A Bird In The Window

I'm casually sat here, reading over notes on social policy..lone parents..child mortality, and i'm disturbed by the shadow of a bird heading straight for me. The window breaks it's flight, and it falls to the roof of our porch. I clamber up on the desk, to peer down at the little bird, hanging upside down, watching it's feathery chest rise and fall. His wings are open full spread, still upside down, and after 3 minutes, i'm beginning to wonder if he's about to die.. My father (the resident Ornithologist) informs me it's a Nut-Hatch, and the poor little bird is in a state of shock. Apparently, this type of species often engage themselves in peculiar positions if they feel they are under attack. Maybe this is why he is still hanging upside down, head facing the ground. He's lost a few feathers, but after 10 minutes, he brushes himself off, and continues his journey.

Personality Profile - based on Myers Briggs Typologies

Isn't It Strange. Thoughts in Head.

Ever been aching to express something that you just can’t show?
Ever wanted to open your heart to a world that you fear?

It’s a numb feeling in the back of your mind and you’re fighting it
Holding it, deceiving it, sometimes even playing it.
It’s when your mind goes and plays tricks – creates things that just don’t exist – so you can believe, and then panic, that you’re seeing something you don’t want to see, that you shouldn’t see.

And when you close your eyes it’s a perfect picture – vivid and vibrant – until you become aware of what’s staring at you right there. Open your eyes and ignore it.

Walk a couple of miles, and feel so much. Write down on paper how you feel tonight – blog it, facebook it, even scribble it in your diary. Blue ink, perfect font.

Isn’t it strange how it’s so hard to say everything you perhaps should say. Everything on your mind, that you hide and say it’s ok, I’ll say it another day.

Hearts buckle under mounting pressure. These are the days you wake to find that everything that has seemed so perfect comes crashing down.
And you want to ask – where did it all go wrong?
Should you have spoken when all was silent? Should you have kept quiet and not opened your scars to the world? An unpleasant truth that haunts you and tracks you down – in your sleep.

And I can write everywhere how I feel. I could write it on the back of this page, I could write it on a receipt in my purse. I could write it on the walls, I could write it with magnets on the fridge. But I can’t say this face to face.

Being Nine.

If you could say that I’m not alone
I’d fight the bullet, I’d throw the gun
Times and times and further in between
The sand in my shoes,
The sun on my skin
Look and deplete,
I don’t want you to see
The darkness it brings me
When all else is free.
So many times behind closed doors
I hide the truth, that everyone ignores
The little girls who cry at night,
Scared by what tomorrow may bring –
I was nine, he was ten,
Misunderstood, afraid of his face
Of everyone who didn’t understand
I grew up to be someone grand
I could breathe, and I could win
And only defeated by my own skin
I wish I could stand and see his face –
Look in his eyes, stand from grace,
And in the heart of my strength – I look away – I stand tall.
But it’s behind closed doors, when little girls,
So young and soft,
Break and fight,
Lose and win,
A battle within their own skin

Oodnadatta

Anyone know what oodnadatta means?!
It comes up on my predictive text all the time when i go to type 'ooo'. I'm curious! Maybe i'll search it. Maybe it's something rude, in which case, i apologise to anyone that can read it.

Anyway. Gosh my head is banging tonight. A dull headache...I've had a busy week this past week - and my muscles ache to prove it! I'm looking for some artwork and a small bookshelf/cabinet for my new house. I decided Ikea would be the place for it. Unfortuanately i didnt find what i was looking for, but i did consume a rather nice Swedish tart. But seriously...that place is a maze. I read in the local newspaper the other day that someone got stuck in the Southampton branch for nearly 2 hours as she couldnt find the exit...and i can see why!! I was in there for a good hour and a half, and by the time i surface to the fresh air and light again i'm exhausted and ready to be pushed along in my own trolley. It's a killer i tell you.

There's so many things i could write here and talk about, but yet, it's not quite as private and as personal as i'd need for me to do that. Apart from my 4 much loved followers (oh, make that 3, one of them is me!) there's an unseen audience to my blog..somewhere..and i don't know if i yet feel comfortable opening my deepest desires, thoughts, needs to the world! Not that my thoughts are at all interesting... It's like my diary (i've kept one for 9 years) and although i do write a lot of personal things in there, i still sort of 'filter' it in a way..just in case it's ever read. So, i guess what i'm trying to say is that although people can get a pretty good idea of who i am through my writing etc, i think a lot comes from one to one interaction. I could speak for ages about this actually. Maybe another night.

You know, there was a beautiful sunset this evening. Havent had one here for a few weeks. I'm a hopeless romantic arent i? Yup. How nice. Is that enough blogging for tonight? I think so. I begin to waffle..

x

Knobbly Knees

- A Summer's Day with Adam x

A Poem for Tonight.

Coffee Beans
Bright Blue Jeans
Hollow Wish
Scented Kiss
Half-full Glass
Time too Fast
Depth of Dream
Too Extreme
Glass of Wine
Singing Rhyme

x

New Poem - UNLOCK.

My latest poem - UNLOCK.

Insist on being - the key to my heart
I’ll let you unlock me
I’m a closed book with an open cover
Let you in,
Let you see beyond the skin
If you insist,
Of being the only one
Then I’ll let you in
If you promise me,
- Promise me
Confide with me
That you can love,
And I’m your drug
I’ll let you unlock me
Breathe me
Feel me and need me
If you could be
Someone to see
I’d open free
I’d let you have me
Hold my hand and kiss my skin
It’s the blood from roses
I might let you in.