The soul is known for it’s actions

This week has seen a complete splurge in my poetry writing, this roll of inspiration seems to be here for the long haul! In some primitive sense of sacrifice, that has meant that work on book three has become stunted as I continue to empty my head of these words. I think I’ve just about got all my collections of poetry in some sort of order, when BOOM! A new player enters the game and throws all my preparation into doubt. Four books are now filled with words. Words which are segregated into loose “themes”. All I need to do is read the first line and I’m instantly transported back to the very day, place, time when I wrote it. I get to re-enact all manner of emotions in a matter of minutes as I’m trawling through my books. This creates a catharsis situation which leaves me feeling like I’ve just dis-embarked from a roller coaster.

The first book of my poetry all relates to the Soul. For me, the soul is the principle of life, feeling, thought. Regarded as a distinct entity separate from the body. It is the spiritual part of us; regarded in its moral aspect, and can transcend time, space and is immune to death. However, the Soul is entirely separate from all manner of materialism and religion. It is what makes us “feel”, it is what evokes all manner of emotions and physical reactions. The Soul is the strongest part of us, if it is allowed to be. The idea of the Soul has always intrigued me, and when I started my degree many moons ago I became interested in Philosophy as well as Literature. The two make perfect companions and the more I read and learnt, the more I wanted to know.

So, I shall continue and see how long it’ll take before my brain is tipped out and empty. I must be careful what I wish for, I asked the moon for inspiration and he came along in abundance! Below is, (as promised) the first of my poems. I hope you enjoy, and see you in a fortnight

I stare out of our window
With emotions I cannot quell,
I knew I could never be happy.
All I could hear was a bell

I’ve searched every inch of my future
Just longing for a comfortable space,
I knew I should never be happy.
Your eyes refuse to look at my face

The sun provides nothing but sadness
I can only hide my tears in the rain,
I knew I would never be happy.
Back on the edge once again

His eyes lure me into the cliff face
Different body; but the soul is the same,
Oh Lord, I do long to be happy and,
loved by he who holds onto my flame


Hope is the thing with feathers….

It’s officially 2015! A New Year brings new possibilities and hope for change. It doesn’t have to be massive, it doesn’t even have to create any impact on anyone but yourself. However, should it be strived for, and subsequently achieved, it could work wonders for your wellbeing. I’m not talking about those resolutions which have now almost become stereotypes. I’m talking about change (not resolution), improvement (not quick fix) which won’t only affect this year, but will continue over all of your years. Re-connecting with your true self, creating happiness and achieving an environment of friendship, love and trust. These changes will then infect all aspects of your life, aspects of your friend’s life and then bleed into your families. You’ll become contagious to all those around you. These changes don’t care whether your single or married, slim or overweight, introvert or extrovert. All it needs to work is you, and there’s nothing better than simply being you.

I’ve written my New Year’s letter to myself again this year, and instead of things I hope to achieve in 2015, I’ve put little monthly objectives which, if completed will lead to the goal. A proactive list of what to do rather than a list of hopes with no direction (although I must admit, there is still a couple of cheeky wishes in there too!) In March my first book of poems is going to be published. The first part of this menagerie is dedicated to the Soul. The most powerful part of our being and the one which defines us as individuals. We may all share a common interest but all our souls are unique. To balance this, it’s the soul which takes the most damage, absorbs the hurt, but equally gives the most to all of us and so should be treasured.

Now, I shall leave you with one of my favourite poems. Have a wonderful new year and I’ll see you in a fortnight.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –
And sore must be the storm –
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –
And on the strangest Sea –
Yet – never – in Extremity,
It asked a crumb – of me.