Static Vision

Random poetry No Comments »

Hi ūüôā

Today I have mostly been procrastinating in a particularly writerly way.

I played this game with the kids, and while they had their turns I was wandering to do little bits of housework; watching this YouTube video with writers talking about how they go about getting¬†their head down and actually writing material, which I have been¬†pausing and revisiting¬†since yesterday.¬†It is¬†over two hours long…Jimpix screenshot for 16.10.17

Soon the kids moved off to do other things, and I read an online bio of Napoleon Hill…I even looked at Mel Robbins’ YouTube stuff on procrastination!!

Over lunch I watched more of the screenplay vid, then jumped onto Life Hacker stuff, where I found this link to a blog post about writing a novel in two months.  I then found this link about the length of time it usually takes to write a novel (I was playing, reading and chatting to the kids, cuddling them, making them food/snacks, stripping beds, catching up with the laundry, finding/fixing toys and cleaning the kitchen in between all this surfing, honest…) and finally got annoyed with myself!

So I wrote the below:

 

 

Above  Fields  Static  Celestial  Squeamish  Chilly  Trekking  Johns  Paranoid

 

Above these fields

Of today’s static vision

Is a celestial realm

I’m just too squeamish to reach for.

written page for 16.10.17

I’d rather stay

A chilly outsider

Instead of doing the necessary trekking

Towards the warmth

Of literary fame.

 

Hanging here with the boring Johns,

Paranoid that all‚Äôs been said before ‚Äď

Hiding in perfectionism

To cover up the fear.

 

It’s all filling the well, no doubt.  My subconscious will make something out of my lazy days in this last week.  I have actually been doing a lot of relevant tapping this October break, and I’ve learned quite a bit more about WordPress and blogging in general, for example. 

A lot of writing has also been done ūüėČ

I’m actually a little swot, honest…

 

Back to the school run tomorrow (thankfully with hubby’s chauffeuring, as he is working from home)

*Sigh*

I’m gonna miss my wee buds, again!

 

 

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Flake Expectations

Random poetry 1 Comment »

*Waves listlessly at you*

 

I am a smidge hungover today.  Screenshot for 15th October 2017

I only went one glass above what I usually allow myself, and even drank water while I was out, but urrrrrgh. 

I had a reeeeeally good laugh with the mum pals I escaped with, however, so swings and roundabouts (spinning, endlessly, in my head…)

Consequently, ¬†I had a ready theme to shoehorn my Random Word Generator words into today¬†ūüėČ ¬†yeah baby!

 

 

 

 

Manager  Expect  Tease  Ancestor  Raise  Profound  Stress  Bitter  Profile

 

What did my manager expect?

Good humour from my furry tongue

While he chose to tease me ‚Äď

Prone as I was

Across piles of files?!

 Written page for 15.10.17

An ancestor or two

May have had reason to raise

An exclamation at my language

(From their dusty graves)

But I was fresh out

Of profound retorts.

 

It’s the stress of being

The ONLY one in the office

With a low alcohol tolerance.

 

YES, I’m bitter about them nagging me

To come out on a Thursday night!!

 Monty scrubbed up ok...

It’s not bloody fair

To stick my drooling profile shot

All around the walls,

Just because I fell asleep

On the photocopier

(Again)

 

That room is so comfy and warm…

 

One of my friends did have to work today.  I feel so sorry for her!!!

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

The Best Pet

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry 3 Comments »

Hey ūüôā

I am going out tonight so, of course, my delightful offspring have decided to enlighten me as to why I shouldn’t leave them before bedtime…! I even got my hair cut and coloured earlier (!), so Eldest rudely told me before I left (in a taxi, as our car had already chosen to have a flat battery this morning) that I wouldn’t be part of the family any more if I got it shaved too short!!Randomlists screen shot for 14th October 2017

RandomLists‚Äô words also seemed to add to the feeling that there was something inherently wrong with me going out with my friends on a Saturday night, while the kids are still young (because a list of words is not a subjective tool, or anything¬†ūüėȬ† ).

I will still venture forth into this night, however.  There is chat to be had and dancing to do!

I’ll be allowed home again, too, cos apparently having blonde/grey and purple hair is cool enough to dodge Eldest’s threat.  Phew.

 

Milky  Tender  Tearful  Pet  Scared  Murder  Dime  Measly  Rough

 

Our milky cuddles,

Tender touch at the beginning of life;

Each of us fearful

That the other may leave.

 

Little fingers and toes curling,

Wee squashed face

Peeking over my nightgown

Like a handbag pet.

 Written page for 14th October 2017

Partly scared,

Immensely proud:

I turn from the world

To the comfort of connection.

(The only murder entertained

Is that of endless cups of tea)

 

My whole life turned on a dime:

A sudden meaning,

Pieces slipping easily together

In the depths of newborn eyes.

Former aspirations

Appearing measly scraps

Against this gifted life.

 

It was a rough few months,

But all is forgiven

In the cocoon of beautiful praise.

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Magnetic

Random poetry 1 Comment »

Hi!

It’s a Textfixer offering today, and another successful male appeared!screenshot from Textfixer

 

 

Magnetic  Formal  Formulation  Honesty  Fibreglass  Patient  Predatory  Belong  Between

 

He just always seemed magnetic.

I used to wonder

If there was a formal formulation

I could buy,

And drink,

To affect his effects.

written page for 13th October 2017

But my honesty would be my undoing.

 

His ego coated in fibreglass;

He wiped off their insults

And was patient with aggressors.

Many a predatory being

Was cowed by his resolve,

Secretly wanting to belong in his team

When they realised the gulf

Between their resourcefulness

And his.

 

He lived into wealthy old age;

Unsullied by newspaper scandal

And survived by a wife half his years.

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

 

My Producer Of Sunshine

Mental Health, Random poetry, Relationships 2 Comments »

Hello ‚ô•

Fittingly, it is a Jimpix day today.  I am experiencing a mish-mash of feelings to go with the jumble of words in this box.

 

Loosen  Palatable  Ringed  Bugger  Caught  Hoops  Bank  Spy  Producer

 

Even with alcohol

To loosen my thoughts

They would not be palatable.

(Least of all to me)

They stay ringed

By an electric fence;

 

It’s been a decade,

But I don’t trust them.

I am such a selfish bugger:

I know you needed out,

That you picked your time precisely ‚Äď

But my understanding

Gets caught up in my emotions,

And my heart leaps

Through torturous, fiery hoops:

 

I just really bloody miss you!!

 

At least I can still bank

On you showing up in my dreams.

 

And those soft white feathers

Appearing by my feet,

That never fail to spark

Eldest’s existential conversations.

 

I know you came to visit –

A ‘spy’ on my wedding day –

And, as your gift,

Became ‚ÄėProducer of Sunshine‚Äô

To make photos bright.

 

I see you smiling from my mirror

(And your daughters’ faces, too)

I catch your echoes here

So many times per week.

 

But it’s not leaving like I thought it would.

This ache keeps gnawing…

As I hug people you didn’t meet,

 

Morph into someone you don’t know.

 

 

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

A Bite From The Centre

Mental Health, Random poetry No Comments »

Hi there

 

 

 

Monkey  Bite  Centre  Drawing  Black  Journal  Posture  Venture  Flash

 

My monkey mind turned

And took a bite

Out of the centre

Of my being;

Drawing black hearts

Across an otherwise peachy day.

A sad journal

Reeled off dates and times –

Counted all the years –

Til my posture sagged

And limbs curled up;

So I could fit inside

The womb-space of my grief.

 

I seldom venture there ‚Äď

Each flash of eternity

Is too impossible to broach.

 

♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥  ♥

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Control Issues

Random poetry No Comments »

Hey ūüôā

It was a Randomlists offering today:

 

Roasted  Discussion  Change  Control  Teeny  Crowded  Pricey  Sick  Rabbit

 

I got absolutely roasted

In our little ‚Äėdiscussion‚Äô,

But it didn’t change my mind.

I have a control problem:

A teeny bit too much

Of a need to face a crowded room

And be righter than anyone else.

 

This gets a bit pricey

In business, sometimes.

I may spend some time

Feeling sick to my stomach

With the backlash,

But I don’t shy away from conflict.

 

Tomorrow I’ll hear myself

Rabbit on about how I’m absolutely correct

To follow a unicorn

Across rainbows.

Luckily, I usually do unearth

An eventual pot of gold…

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Clay

Random poetry 2 Comments »

Hello!

 

It was Textfixer spinning the wheel of randomness today:

 

 

Clay  Apricot  Anxious  Puppet  Biter  Consumer  Fortune  Ghoul  Lizard

 

Is it a cliché

To think of the creator

When in the presence

Of malleable clay?

 

Is it still acceptable

To be affected by those questions

While slowly eating apricot yogurt

In the sunshine,

Mildly anxious about that blog post I’ve not written?

 

I still feel like the puppet

Dancing until she realises

She can be the biter of the greater hand;

 

A hapless consumer

Amassing untold amounts of fortune

In some shady vault

For some ghoul-figure in my head

(Who is probably a nice person,

And will help the world

Much more than I do now)

 

I still look at the sky and don’t trust it.

A giant orb once fell out of it

And obliterated many a great lizard.

 

I’m aware of my being:

A mere dot on the landscape…

 

Why the hell do I worry so much?

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Dream Desiccants

Health, Mental Health, Random poetry No Comments »

Hiya ūüôā

Unfortunately there is a misspelt word in the Jimpix offering today.¬† As I am atrocious at spelling myself, however, I‚Äôll forgive the oversight ūüėČ

I got to revisit my Latin a little for today‚Äôs poem, but I have probably used the wrong ending for ‚Äėincertus‚Äô (so you have permission to roll your eyes, any Latin scholars in my readership!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Medicare   Boundary  Dreams  Desiccants   Timer  Cavus  Quare  Fragment  Gratified

 

They whispered about Medicare

And cast sorry expressions

Down to mine.

 

I could not feel the boundary,

Just their thought-silica:

Everybody near

Tugging at my fluid dreams.

Stripping me.

 

Desiccants, all!

 

Somewhere, off to the side,

A timer ticked down silently;

Demons creeping from underneath my Pes Cavus

(Quare incertus)

 

Barely a fragment

Of my former self left –

And yet

They expect me to be gratified

By their very attempt at action.

 

I am not of this place,

But weighed by it;

Unbalanced on the edges

Of bright, sharp swords.

 

 

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Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved
Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

The Paradox in Puddle City

Childhood, Parenting, Random poetry 3 Comments »

Hiya!

 

It was Eldest‚Äôs turn to hit the ‚Äėhalf birthday‚Äô mark today!¬† I am so glad to be able to report that he has been in good health for the last six months, after him having to miss his seventh birthday for that yucky bug ūüôā

As usual, it has been a fast first term back at school, and we are now embarking on our October holiday week.  Today has been relatively calm, with the kids enjoying the fact that they get to lounge about the house and play with super heroes and cars whenever they like.  No set homework for Eldest to think about for at least two weekends!!  It’s fab!

Eldest has been bringing home a few Horrid Henry books to read to us, and he and his brother have been giggling over them.¬† The boys also loved revisiting T.S. Eliot‚Äôs cat poems for National Poetry Day on the 28th.¬† Eldest could remember that Growltiger had an ear missing, from parent readings over supper when Youngest was still in his high chair ūüėȬ† it‚Äôs lovely to think that the boys can recall snippets of what we spent time doing with them!

Since primary three started, Eldest has been doing some Yoga in his gym lessons with the help of the lady from¬† Cosmic Kids.¬† He was very eager to share the experience with his brother, so requested that I put the YouTube channel on the tablet, and the alphabet mats out¬†in the playroom. I must say that is it quite surreal to watch our lively boys sitting cross-legged on the floor, their hands together, repeating ‚Äúnaaa-maaast-eeeeh‚ÄĚ!¬† Seven and four year olds are ridiculously flexible, and they really enjoy the stories that go with each episode.¬† Hubby and I have snapped a crazy amount of photos ūüėČ

Eldest has been enjoying the football he gets in his P.E lessons, too, and also requests to be allowed to go and climb a tree with his friends, at the back of his school playground, when I come to pick him up.  I don’t always let him (it’s a long walk home, after all!) but when I do, he comes down the hill again full of all the moments he narrowly cheated death by twisting a certain way in the nick of time…with the dirt splatters to prove it.

I have felt a lot calmer, over the years, when he’s tested his balancing skills on the Trim Trail instead! (You can see the small wooded part of the playground behind Eldest, in of some of the photos).

 

Eldest loves writing and drawing, and his desk is often a mass of stray papers (interspersed with plastic knights, and maybe the large castle he has probably played with every day he’s been at home, for several years now).  Since he was first able to communicate with me, he has spun the stories behind his creations.  I get a real kick out of him now being able to write down all the scenarios that are in his head. 

As I think I have said before, it fascinates him that Enid Blyton was able to be so prolific, and he keeps referring back to that and wondering how many books he could manage if he started when he was, say, ten ūüėČ in his head, Enid‚Äôs name is ‚ÄėIan‚Äô, however.¬† I do correct him, but I think he has¬†invented an image¬†he can relate to easily.¬† I am trying not to be too feminist about it‚Ķ

*grumbles to self*

In class this year, Eldest and his peers have been thinking about village life.¬† They have had to draw maps and characters from ‚ÄúThistle Mountain‚ÄĚ as part of their homework.¬† Eldest‚Äôs character is the janitor of the high school.¬† I love this representation of him:

‚ÄúThis is the janitor‚Ķhe is angry because people were throwing mud at his face ‚Äď that‚Äôs why it is so red!‚ÄĚ

 

I am always having to think hard with these sparky fellows under my care.  Eldest is perpetually  fascinated by how things work, and why people are motivated to do the things they do.  Our walks to and from our local school (that incorporates the nursery) have been peppered with interesting theories, misunderstandings, musings and plots for over four years now.  Eldest never got on with a buggy board, so has hoofed up and down those pavements countless times; scanned the changing skies with me; marked each turn of season; thought about the placement of every sign/railing/wall/tree/lamppost/drain cover etc…and marvelled at shadows whenever the sun appears.

It doesn‚Äôt matter how I look at it, I was sent the best little vehicles for creativity I could ever have asked for.¬† I wish I could video every revelation they stumble upon, every thought they tease out so that I could learn from them again and again ‚Äď and maybe write all the works that flood into my brain…which I invariably forget by the time I get home ūüėČ

I chuckled when I saw what words came up today: they are very apt for a poem about our irrepressible seven year old scamp!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fox  Player  Inside  Mud  Paradox  Pluck  City  Ladder  Drama

 

I’ve seen him run

When the fox appears,

But then seem to root

For his dastardly schemes;

Before cheering as the good guys win the day.

He is a dedicated player

Of games I can’t fathom

Where skill and/or speed

Are hard earned ‚Äď

Persistence a huge feature

Of his ‚Äėinside‚Äô pursuits.

 

But this child is also happy

In a bath of mud:

Many’s the time

Our beautiful paradox

Has had me pluck

His soaking self from puddle city!

 

He is a prickly questioner:

Ripping my metaphorical tights

And using the ladder

To climb on my last nerve.

 

He ramps up my drama,

But is also the planner

Of exciting things to do.

A magical mystery tour

With our Eldest at the helm

Will never end in boredom.

 

(And his sense of direction

Is always much keener than mine)

 

There is a video of a three year old Eldest in the puddles here.¬† For some reason it refused to embed in this post, but it plays on (my public) Facebook.¬† Enjoy!¬† ūüėČ

 

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2017  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!