ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
My existance is based around love. And i'm hoping that one day, I will be discovered, like a shooting star, and named after someone before I disappear. [July 2002]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (2) Life's Work (Poetry) This is a collection of poetry which look at different aspects of past relationships. [1,013 words] [Relationships] The Love I Feel For You (Poetry) These are poems I wrote a while ago, when all I could do was sit and watch the one I love and completely at ease. [460 words] [Relationships]
Moving On Elizabeth Jessica Allen
ReQuest
One day I decided to write a book.
A book about love, for the one I love.
I went for a long walk, down through the city
And out into the world – to gather my muse.
I walked to the end of the earth where the land and sky are one.
There, I talked to the sun and the clouds; asking them if
Just for a few days, they could combine to make perfect sunsets
So I could put them in my book and give them to my love.
And so I sat there for days, memorising what I saw.
I then climbed the highest mountain
And called to Shakespeare, Whitman, Aristotle, anyone.
I beseeched them for thoughts that I could place in my book
Which would inspire my love to live.
And so they spoke their wisdom and I listened.
And when it was done I continued on my journey…
There was only one other place for me to go;
One more entity to ask a favour of.
And so I walked to the woods.
The woods were dark and shadows were a vengeful black
But I proceeded to hike through the woods, until
I came to the clearing I had been looking for.
I began to whisper and the wind took my words to the trees.
I told the trees of my plans for the book,
And they thought it was a noble clause.
Train
Lie down. Lie
In the fetal position.
Lie down. Lie, down,
Lie in the fetal position.
I wish mum was here;
I wish he was here;
I wish dad was here;
I wish someone was here;
Someone, here… here to comfort me.
Everything flashing
Going past quickly. Flashing
Speeding past; blurs.
All blurs. Flashing past.
Eyes heavy. Close; Open; Close...
Open! Must keep them open.
Watching. Open. Waiting. Open.
See the flashing and the blurring.
Different colours moving.
Moving at different speeds.
Green, green moves quicker than blue
Browns, browns move slower than greys.
But white moves the fastest.
Blue, practically never moves.
Blue is prime. Never moves
Constant. Constantly there
Makes things, but does not move.
Yellow is a prime too
But it makes everything move.
Growing, moving, living.
Makes everything go past and grow
Red is a prime but there it really
No red in front of me.
Red is an emotion;
Love, Jealousy, Hate.
Moving past, slowly, quickly, never stable
Moving inside rather than outside.
The world moving
Flashing, Blurring past
All I have to do is sit
Sit here and watch
It all passes me
Lie, lie down in the fetal position
Comforted by myself
Mind opened, closed, opened.
Sunset
The sun is now setting as I leave the bus
And the sky is becoming empty.
It’s as though the sky is a sink and the plug has been taken away
And where the sun leaves the sky, the clouds are following.
There is not even a moon in the sky, and it’s too early for stars.
No moon to be seen;
The clouds above me;
The sun in front of me.
The sky looks like the world has turned upside down.
The colours of the pinky-red clouds and the blue sky mix together
To make the appearance of an oasis, with sand and water.
Oh how I wish I could live up there with the clouds
Than live down here among the smoke and smog.
The moon is now in front of me;
The clouds are to the left;
And the sun is hidden below.
I wanted to run home and fetch you, but I knew you weren’t there
I was going to call you, but I was afraid.
Afraid that if I took my eyes off the sky, it would completely disappear.
As silly thought I know, for the moon is starting to appear brightly,
But the clouds are still following the sun, emptying the sky.
The moon is above me;
The cloud are to the left;
The sun is below.
As I walk home I realise that I don’t want to be there
Why go home when you aren’t there
For there is nothing to go home too, and out here
There is plenty of reason to keep walking.
So I turn, and I start to walk towards the clouds.
Moon to my right;
Clouds in front of me;
Sun below my feet.
I wish for so much that you could be walking beside me.
I wish for it so much that I start imagining that you are here.
The thought of your presence starts to fill the sky
Starts to fill my heart with joy, for now I see two wonderful things.
But I turn to face you, and all I see is the moon, looking down on me.
Moon to my right;
Clouds in front of me;
Sun below my feet.
The sky has almost completely disappeared now;
So I turn to go home, but I walk slowly, so I see the last cloud
Disappearing into the darkness. Darkness has fallen;
And I am home, waiting for you to return –
So that I can share my sunset, the beauty, with you,
And you can share your beauty with me.
The moon is behind me;
The clouds are hidden from sight;
The sun is below my feet.
Storage Space
Boxes. Memories packed up as though
They are being gift wrapped for the next place.
Memories thrown out as they have been stored for long enough
In your subconscious, known as a cupboard.
A tear fills your eye as the removalist shatters
One of your most treasured dreams
But once you have picked up the pieces of the crystal ball
You realise that in the next place you will make new dreams
The next place seems as though it is half the world away
Sometimes even another galaxy as you wait,
Wait wait waiting. For some sign that you
May again unpack everything you have strived to obtain.
While unpacking your thoughts and reminiscences
You think about how ironic it is, for memories are meant to be stored
Not usually are they out in the open for the world to see
And yet somehow you feels better that they are being uncovered.
Boxes. Memories being unpacked just like
It was your eighth Birthday all over again.
Boxes thrown away for they have stored items long enough.
Items being placed in your subconscious, known as a cupboard.
READER'S REVIEWS (6) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"Ummmmmm...........HI LIZZIE! HOW R U????These are deeeeep dude....ette...ummmmmmmmmmmm byeeeeeeeeeee:-)PS-Are you okay???!" -- Nicole, Murbah...still., NSW, AUSTRALIA...still..
"Hey Liz, this is good, but really srong work, I think it is showing or saying something which might be wrong, are you okay? Anyway I enjoyed reading them." -- Courteny Broughton, Murwillumbah, NSW, AUSTRALIA.
"ReQuest: Ouch!!! This was completely different to the other set. The emotions seem more frantic? I can understand why people are asking if you are okay. Great work though." -- Your Friend, Brisbane , QLD.
"Nice work. Lots of fans down under huh?" -- R. Bennett Okerstrom.
"wow, I want to know more about what happened. This work shows a depth of sadness far beyond the first collection, yet some thoughts still seem incomplete. I see you searching for your voice, and I can't wait to see how you've grown." -- rane, san jose, ca, usa.
"Hi, I randomly Googled my name in an idle hour between lectures, and it came up with you. I like Train. I like how the rhythm echoes the sound of a train, the hypnotic motion and the blurring colours and the juble of thoughts it can spawn. Nice. Lovely melancholy." -- Jessica Mary Allen, Cambridge, England.
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