Sunday 28 March 2010

Updates

Have published an old piece of course work on a short story fiction sight check it out :) http://www.short-fiction.co.uk/newstories/show_story.php?story_id=4929

Saturday 27 March 2010

Poems

These are the poems I am thinking of submitting at the end of term let me know what you think.

Timelines.
By Daniel Eastwood.

The Noughties.

A new blazer, a new start
Choices to make, paths to choose
Friends have chosen, I simply follow
Stage 3 complete, advancing to stage 4
New house, same house mates
New shenanigans, re-examinations
Smooth sailing, graduation on the horizon
Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

6.08am.

Laughter shatters a cold silence.
Smiles dance form face to face,
as hands clasp and corks pop.

Her final breath leaves her body.
Floating towards an endless grey sky,
as tears assault the dusty earth.

An endless day begins.
Trudging on sleeplessly, selfishly,
as the clock refuses to turn back.

Balancing on the edge of time.
Candle light lead the riots,
as neon lights out burn the sun.

Oceans rise into the atmosphere.
No longer able to glisten under the sun,
as the finale awaits.

The End.

She demanded an apology for what I had done
I refused and turned her pale face pink
apologies do not come in my line of work
she screamed at me, reaching into her bag
she gave me one last chance
with a shake of my head
she shot me dead.

Photographs 122, 85, 42 and 9.

Lord Wellington resides over the white room
framed for eternality by golden timber.
Gemini vases stand guard upon the mantle
protecting the ancient castle.
Two windows into a secret world are obscured
by twin lights.
Men in suits sit uncomfortably waiting, debating
crossed arms contradict the smiles on their faces.
A foreign correspondent sits relaxed in his robes of white
winning the intellectual fight.
Parallel sofas house more men and women
All in fine black, blue, brown and white.
Each wait for the golden handshake
some nervous others calm.
A varnished table takes precedence of the room, perfectly placed
to offer a sweet sent from its luscious red flowers.
Confused stars decorate the floor, waiting for time
to move on once more.

Lord Wellington resides the watcher
framed for eternity by golden timber.
Gemini vases stand guard on the mantle
giving life to a room otherwise so dull.
Windows to other realms are obscured by light
offering a dash of colour to the chamber of white.
Men in suits sit unaffordable waiting
for robed men to finish debating.
A varnished table sits in the centre of the room
offering flowers and their sweet perfume.
Confused stars lay scattered upon the floor
praying for time to continue once more.

Wellington resides waiting
framed eternally by golden timber.
Vases stand upon the mantle
inside a dull room.
Paintings obscured by light
brighten the endless white.
Men sit waiting.
Debating.
Flowers upon a table
stars upon the floor
Waiting for time to continue.

Wellington watches
Men sit waiting, debating
Wanting to finish.

6 Sentences

Not been active for a while here are some of my 6 sentences pieces, enjoy:

Time line.

Laughter shatters a cold silence. Smiles dance from face to face. Hands clasp and champagne corks pop. Her final breath leaves her body. Floating towards an endless grey sky. Tears assault the dusty earth.

Avoidance

I avoid talking for several minutes pretending to really love the Panini when in fact I would rather eat dirt. I didn’t know ham could be this chewy. I forcefully swallow the last bite, I’m gonna have to make a choice. I open my mouth to speak but then decide against it and fumble to pick up my coffee cup. The fresh coffee scorches the inside of my mouth and my tongue goes numb I keep drinking until I need to inhale cold air to try and sooth the burning sensation running through my upper body. There are no more options I have to speak to her, she is still silently staring, pen at the ready I open my mouth to speak.

Blind date
She is late. The door to the coffee shop rattles open and a youngish woman walked in, mid thirties I guessed. She look around and saw me sat facing out of the window simply watching people go by. She probably thought it was artistic. She walked over and I turned to face her with a smile, which she enthusiastically returned. She placed a large binder on the table in front of an empty chair as I slid over a cup of tea, her name was Cathy.