Poem of the Day

Song of the Fairies Robbing an Orchard by James Henry Leigh Hunt

We, the fairies, blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,
Though the mountains mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us.

Stolen sweets are always sweeter,
Stolen kisses much completer,
Stolen looks are nice in chapels,
Stolen, stolen, be your apples.

When to bed the world are bobbing,
Then's the time for orchard robbing;
Yet the fruit were scarce worth peeling,
Were it not for stealing, stealing.

Free Write Prompt - Silence by Thomas Hood

The poem, 'Silence' by Thomas Hood, has been my analysis piece for the last week or so. Hood was a renowned humorist in his time but 'Silence' breaks away from that. It is thought provoking, reflecting the loneliness and isolation that total silence can bring, and just how rare real silence is. Bearing in mind Hood's time was the early half of the 19th century I can't help but wonder if it was so difficult to achieve then without cars, without mechanical industry, without trains and without mobile phones, it must be nigh on bloody impossible now. Does that mean my dream of a small-holding away from any form of civilisation is impossible? Sadly it probably does.

Quote: Remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent ---  Eleanor Roosevelt.

AWAD: span-now (span-noo)

adjective; entirely new; brand new.

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

30 December 2008

30 December 2008

3 minute free write - Prompt: Two fresh sets of footprints.

Two fresh sets of footprints glistening in the mud, leading from nowhere going towards the sea. The mud flaps were deserted, eerie and silent. Someone must have made these tracks but who, where had they gone?
The silence of these shores was overwhelming. Perfect for loner like me. Now someone had invaded my tranquillity, shattered the sense of seclusion I craved. The forgotten memories instantly flashing, the days of torment. degradation and humiliation at the hands of my fellow human beings. The fear started to pulsate inside me as I hurried back to the one room hut I called home. Once more barricading myself from the outside world. Once more my soul was left shaking in the corner much like the rest of me; too scared to breathe, too terrified to think and realise that the footprints were my own.

Quote of the Day:

"To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often." --- Winston Churchill

AWAD:

Pell-mell (pel-mel)

adverb: In a confused, jumbled, or reckless manner.
adjective: Confused, disorderly, or indiscriminate.

Poetry Today:

Silence by Thomas Hood

HERE is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave--under the deep, deep sea,
Or in wide desert where no life is found,
Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;
No voice is hush'd--no life treads silently,
But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free,
That never spoke, over the idle ground:
But in green ruins, in the desolate walls
Of antique palaces, where Man hath been,
Though the dun fox or the wild hyena calls,
And owls, that flit continually between,
Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan--
There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

26 December 2008

Random Quote

"Flying is simple. You just throw yourself at the ground and miss."
~Douglas Adams, So Long, and Thanks for the Fish


A Poem A Day - She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow’d to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair’d the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win. the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Do you like your hair? Is it straight and sleek? Wild and unruly?

I don't like the fact I haven't got a single curl. My hair is horribly straight, nothing I do will make it even wave let alone curl. Naturally I think I am a brunette, but over the years I have been blonde, pink, green, vibrant blue, purple, gothic black and now its a multitude of highlights ranging from white to black. I will go blue or purple again in the New Year. I've always been a bit wild with the colours of my hair just to give it a bit of oomph.

My hairstyle has ranged form mega long down to my ass hippy chick to a 1/2 inch crop and mohawks and spikes. Currently its a Monica bob as I debate whether to go long or get a crop again. Probably will crop it, long hair is such a pain to keep in order.

Random Quote:

Hold a true friend with both hands --- Nigerian Proverb

A Word a Day

tarmarind (TAM-uh-rind)

noun: The pod of the tree Tamarindus indica, the pulp of which is sour in taste and used in preparing food and drinks.

The Lament by Percy Bysshe Shelley

O World! O Life! O Time!
On whose last steps I climb,
Trembling at that where I had stood before;
When will return the glory of your prime?
No more -Oh, never more!

Out of the day and night
A joy has taken flight:
Fresh spring, and summer, and winter hoar
Move my faint heart with grief, but with delight
No more -Oh, never more!


© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.