An Ode to Yesterday – Part 2

Written by Scarlet Hardy

A two-part journey into the poet’s world. The first part was published as part of our July “Tipping the Scales” content, which can be read here


What I would give to be young without a single care,
To once more experience being a girl with long golden hair.
Able to live without worries and forever young,
If only I could turn back time to where my travels begun.
See those friendly old faces that I once kissed,
Visit historic friends that I have often missed.
Looking back at ancient history to see where my journey started,
Returning to the distant place from where I once departed.

Enjoy my heroic offering of the simple written word,
I truly hope and pray that my humble voice will be heard.
I still remember the days of my distant fanciful youth,
I will never feel too distant, remote, or aloof.
Memories once shared might just live on,
Friendships enjoyed are perhaps not all gone.
Close your eyes and try to remember an old close friend,
A prayer for your missing loved ones you could still send.

After reversing the sands of time I saw an old school yard,
I truly felt that the gods had dealt me a winning card.
At four years old I often wanted to dance and sing,
I should have sung about the joy that youth does bring.
Who knows how their destiny will finally fall,
Does anyone hear fate when it comes to call?
If you get the urge to follow my initial lead,
Share your inner wisdom whenever you feel the need.

History rushes by, though my sands of time are not wasted,
A taste of love and devotion I have often tasted.
Memories do live on, long after any important event,
Perhaps a few letters to your old mates could still be sent.
Do you remember how things were when you were young,
Were songs of praise duly sung?
Life moves at such a rapid pace it just drags us along,
Precious memories will indeed last your whole life long.

The street where I once lived no longer exists,
The old ways of living may or may not be missed.
One small street looked just like a million others,
Princess Street had no twin but perhaps a few brothers.
Our true destiny was written in the stars long before we were born,
Between ambitious dreams and innate ability, we all get a little bit torn.
I always wanted to write an intensely riveting book,
When it came to dreaming up new ideas I never got stuck.

Terrace houses used to stand neatly all in a row,
Unfortunately, none of them are left now you know.
Enjoy a moment lost in times long since gone past,
Re-experience moments that you once hoped would last.
Remember catastrophic mistakes that we have all made,
I wonder if I will make even the lowest possible grade?
Stop and consider those who are dead and gone,
Who is your truly beloved long lost number one?

Try reading this astounding tale of both surprise and wonder,
Run for cover if you hear any loud claps of thunder.
We can keep very little from our vast historic past,
Yet precious memories we keep just seem to last and last.
The sands of time shall never stop still,
Passages of time are impossible to stop even if you had the will.
Our lives take many twists and the odd unexpected turn,
I still seem to spend my whole life just trying to learn.

Where will all that specialist knowledge eventually go?
Will anyone remember any of my achievements, I do not know.
The highlights of my life and times are all just passing me by,
I cannot stop the clock no matter how hard I try.
Tonight history is about to be recorded as I duly sit and write,
Indeed I could well be working rather late tonight.
Few lucky people enjoy a stress-free life – this I know to be true,
Obviously, I am no longer a small baby all tiny and new.

I used to have a future date with destiny but not anymore,
Once I was tempted to go in search of a nice sandy shore.
I still worship awesome gods as my love for them keeps growing,
But will they ever love me back? I still have no way of knowing.
This bizarrely enduring tale may well live always and forever,
People will not forget about my peculiar troubles ever.
All I wish to do is to tell my strangely twisted tale,
Straight through my life and times you may ever so gently sail.

I am now a mature woman standing steadfast yet alone,
You may find me lingering somewhere in the twilight zone.
I would like to become a highly articulate and forthright woman,
However, immense energy and emotional drive I still need to summon.
Now I will return to Princess Street where I once so happily used to play,
Once again, I shall re-visit many a wonderful hot summers’ day.
One small ambitious little girl indeed I used to be,
When I was still ever so young, wild, and my childish spirits still ran free.


New contributor Scarlet Hardy’s wonderfully woven and nostalgic tale comes to its conclusion in the second part. Looking back on the days of childhood, when full streets of houses still existed and old friends from the past still kept in touch, An Ode to Yesterday spans a lifetime of memories. If you’ve read the first part and been captivated by Scarlet’s words, you’ll know this narrative tale was partly inspired by falling in love and those memories associated with it. Again, if you enjoyed this piece, please consider leaving a like or a comment in the section below. 

Featured Image CC // Duarte JH

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An Ode to Yesterday

Written by Scarlet Hardy

A two-part journey into the poet’s world. The second part will be published on July 25th.


I often think about yesterday,
When I miss young friends with whom I used to play.
The innocence of youth has long since gone,
Of opportunities to turn back time, I have had not one.
This poem is an ode to my youth that I have long since lost,
Exactly how much does the process of growing up cost?
This story is a truly long and twisted tale,
It is fresh and inviting, without being boring or stale.

I was born in a distant northern English city,
I was never rich and that is such a terrible pity.
I was the youngest of three little girls,
I had a few cute kiss curls.
I was born with the capacity for thought and wonder,
Through the first stages of growing up I did blunder.
I was quite a happy child of no great talent or ability,
I longed to have some true financial stability.

Due to my endless curiosity I asked questions all day long,
And when I felt happy I would burst into song.
Of the tiny cobbled street from where I once came,
One day that place would achieve its fair share of fame.
My memories stretch back to the tender age of just three,
I still remember being nursed upon my mother’s knee.
I knew nothing of dire poverty, I did not quite understand,
My untimely birth had not been planned.

I thanked awesome gods for my unexpected creation,
At that time I had no known position or power within any nation
Many mistakes I made; they fill me with such deep regret,
No way was I ever likely to become a teacher’s pet.
With limited finance and rather plain looks,
My life has proved to be a strange blend of change and flux.
Trapped inside my own world as a lonesome child,
While reading precious fairytales I felt quite beguiled.

Imagination was the only true gift that I ever possessed,
Where my thoughts would lead me I could not have guessed.
Personal desires and wants seem to come last,
Relief from financial desperation does not always arrive fast.
All the days of my life I have seriously struggled,
With truly horrendous bills I jiggled and juggled.

This book contains the details of my life and times,
And explain why I might be accused of committing treasonous crimes.
I am a humble servant of awesome gods,
However, they may prove to be highly contrary bods.
If only I knew where I first went wrong,
Maybe roads that I chose to travel might not seem so terribly long.
Read my tale and digest the meaningful words,
I have omitted all curses and four-letter verbs.
In my strangely wondrous books, I choose to fondly remember and reminisce,
This tale is about my youth that I still do miss.

Decades passed before I undertook the business of writing,
My life and times have proved to be ever so exciting.
Errors I made go on seemingly forever,
I will not stop trying to learn new things all together.
If it is money that makes this big old world go around,
I would be happy to own the odd bar of gold weighing a pound.
My newfound wealth I shall gladly share,
If I were rich, I would not have a single care.

This book speaks volumes about my great love of life,
I attempt to explain my ambition to overcome trouble and strife.
I grew up and I made more than just the odd mistake,
I was unlucky to meet the world’s biggest rake.
A spectator of my highly exciting life and times you could easily be,
Yet I am unable to give away precious books for free.
I hope that my poems inspire you in a variety of ways,
I would very much like to entertain people for the rest of my days.

It may be possible to encourage another to reach their full potential,
I would like others to expand their own imaginative deferential.
Should you reach for beautiful distant stars residing above,
It may be then possible to share respect and true love.
Nothing in life is more important than giving affection deep and true,
The powers above are watching me; they are also watching you.
I sincerely hope that you enjoy my enduring tale,
Straight through my never-ending fantasy you shall ever so gently sail.

Twisted tales come from deep within my peculiar imagination,
Writing often proves to be a highly pleasurable form of recreation.
I sometimes wonder where all of my treasured memories will go,
How this intrepid tale will end I still do not know.
These books are the result of an intensive labour of true love,
One day I hope to please awesome gods above.
I also would like to please the occasional passing stranger,
Reading rhyming novels is unlikely to put anyone in danger.


An Ode to Yesterday is the first of its kind here on Inkblots. A beautiful and lengthy narrative poem, we’ve split Scarlet’s work into two posts. Heavy in nostalgia, her work reaches afar with emotion and spirit. The tight rhythm and rhyme scheme used within shows Scarlet’s unwavering dedication to form. For new contributor Scarlet, her inspiration came from falling in love. So much so, her written work now spans across nine novels and a collection of short poems. An Ode to Yesterday is just a snippet of the labour of her love. If you enjoyed Scarlet’s poetry, feel free to leave a like or a comment below. 

Featured Image CC // Cross Duck

Psychosis

Written by Lost in a Dream


I.
The buzz of everyday trifles
Swallowed by the sea.

The giddy heights had endowed me with perspective:
I read the black abyss with maddening clarity.

II.
Master of my demons at last.
Or did I realise I was so small too?

III.
I stayed long enough to catch a chill—
A sobering breeze breaking the intense still.

IV.
While the views were sublime,
The very essence of truth,
It is impossible to live here.

A dark and brooding hermit
In a drunk, informed solitude.

Too powerful. Too weak.


The beauty of simplicity resides in this poem from Lost in a Dream. It’s, perhaps, a stark contrast to what she’s written in the past for our publication, but her words are still as piercing and on point as ever before. A battle of the mind, Psychosis, brings forth human emotion, pain and the act of being at one’s end. Completely at a loss, the poet appears transfixed by their own mentality, their own psychosis. We love this piece, so if you enjoyed it as well feel free to leave a like or a comment below. Lost in a Dream has written many other works for Inkblots, including her gorgeous poem “Star Talk ii” and short fiction “Man’s Crisis”.

Featured Image CC // Justcallme_Bethy

Busted Trust

Written by Awokunle Toyin Sheriff


Trust not the trust!
As credence SEEMS promising?
To the core and psyche of might…

Wish. Muse. Aroma. Touch.

On the trek!
Where swear tears fears to pairs?
With commode et credenza-seem promises…

Seen. Felt. Spelt. Keen.

On the voyage!
Of which red beam
musics no caveat but freedom…

Sent. Bent. Dent. Meant.

On a thrust of…!
Where promise is…?
And swears are the…

To… for… of… by…

Promises and swears of the darkness!
seems to be illuminated?
by dark and blind bloke…
Obdurate aide mémoire!
Of trusts and swears?
seems darkly lit and…

Promises held!
of never, ever and forever?
found shivering by the fevered river…

Promises of kings and queen!
kings and queen like rocks

Surfing horny morning-must!
seemingly, of great loving lust?
all not found yet but loving lost…

Dubaic life cagely monumented!
like pyramids of Egypt
and the lies of flies; documented…

Checking those portraits for better!
a language of ease together?
a tribe of grade point defender and…

Alas, ever seems ever ever!
but never, here is never never?
and shivering head feverish with fever…

Alone now, I am, solely


New contributor Awokunle’s poem showcases intrigue and wonder like we’ve never had before here on Inkblots. Themed around betrayal, Busted Trust was submitted to us and really caught our eye. Perhaps it’s the striking words used throughout the poem to display the poet’s abandonment, or maybe it’s the overall sense of adventure. Try reading Nigerian-born Awokunle’s poem aloud, too, we guarantee it will tingle on your tongue, so make sure you soak it in. As a published poet and a firm believer in the power of the pen to express the mind, you may have seen Awokunle’s name across a variety of online magazines. If you enjoyed his poetry, please consider leaving a like or comment below.

Featured Image CC // Geraint Rowland

Lost Love

Written by Kvothe


Glittering jewels scattered across a black abyss,
Darkness consuming the edges of light, stealing warmth,
Cold biting bone deep, despair folds around me.
Empty space of the only one I have ever loved,
Heart bleeds. Remembers the gentle safety of her arms.

Then, as if answering my harboring call,
A graceful beauty wanders in, filling the room with joy.
But my heart falters, while blood runs cold with loneliness.
I can’t find those perfect words. I want to tell you how I feel,
All past hurts lost, with only a mind for you.

As the bravest of warriors, I smile on seeing you,
Heart melting, happiness burning, cheeks flush.
But another takes your hand and kisses your neck,
Territorial and yet tender he claims you. Forbidden fruit.
I walk away leaving my lonely heart on the floor by your feet.

Time passes and wounds heal but the hurts stay the same.


Having written this piece largely to pass the time while on holiday, Kvothe’s poem hits us where it most hurts. Losing a loved one to another can be torturous, particularly if the one you love doesn’t know your true feelings. Kvothe captures those truly dark and lonely moments, wraps it up in a box of heartache, and leaves. We can’t help but feel for the poet here. If you enjoyed Kvothe’s work, make sure to read his lyrical beauty, “Tinker’s Tale“. 

Featured Image CC // JLS Photography

 

Short Poetry Spotlight – Strength in Mind, Body & Spirit

Written by Katie Allen


Menkind

Society embracing the fast-paced life,

Although immersed in conflict and strife

Without time to marvel at wonders of the earth,

We grow either optimistic or cynical since our birth.

 

Multi-tasking is the norm,

Constantly busy even after we are worn

Developing competitive streaks, cut-throat and ruthless

These minutes flash by, let alone the weeks.

 

Craving love, acceptance and security,

Instead we may receive hurt, mockery and pity

Despite this we are strong and able to cope,

Only by believing in true faith and hope.

 

Clichés although they may conquer,

While the superficial and material consumption is paramount…

Empty disposable gratifications – our world is crying out

Gaining no internal satisfaction, are we becoming crazy?

Yes is fact – plus slightly stoic, complacent and lazy.

 

So in the midst of personal turmoil and chaos

Stay true to yourself, be authentic otherwise you are truly lost!


Tiger

The Tiger may be beautiful and mysterious

But his huge sharp teeth are certain to make you nervous,

As he communicates while stretching his paws

You mustn’t make a single sound otherwise he’ll open his claws,

Towards doing something extremely notorious!

 

He releases an enormous roar making everything rumble

His almighty power can make anything crumble,

Able to prance up and down to the pulsating beat

Although when he’s camouflaged he ducks low to his feet,

In this humid psychedelic kaleidoscope jungle.

 

He cunningly scours in search for distant prey

As he reaches in for the kill – he targets those that lay,

The sleuth carnivore is still on the prowl

To discover and catch a meal using his dark nose to smell,

Patience is virtue, he instinctively thinks.

 

The tiger’s pride, dignity and reputation

Make all the other creatures have a scary sensation,

Just gaze at him cutting through the foliage

As sharp and deep like the blade of a knife,

Causing no end of chaos and strife

Especially when this ferocious figure is hunting for a female!


Our Short Poetry spotlight this month twins two extraordinary poems written by returning contributor Katie Allen. Blending together seamlessly despite their stark subject differences, both works of poetry take on strength of the mind, body and spirit. While Tiger was inspired by a trip to the zoo, Menkind was written by Katie as a way to explore the often cut-throat state of our world and, in particular, how people feel, consume and behave within it. Sometimes strength can take the shape of the tiger, seeking out its prey, but we also harbour it within ourselves. If you enjoyed Katie’s poetry, feel free to view her superb poetry published last month, “L.O.V.E“. 

Featured Image CC // Frank

Waterworks

Written by Ashcloud


It starts as a trickle, deep within the ground,
One day bursting from dark caverns, moaning silent sounds.
The water erodes the toughened ground and carves wrinkles in its face.
Flowing wild, furrowing down, to find a new hiding place.

It gushes down the mountain, with speed and power as a guide.
It begins to slow and mellow coming nearer to the tide.
From waterfall to river, from river to gentle stream,
As quiet as it came to be, the water vanishes under the evening beam.


Ashcloud’s beautiful poetry gives us a sense of strength and salvation through powerful emotion. Water works in wondrous ways, twisting and turning, filling up holes, eroding rock, and then submitting to the powerful sun rays. But water is also in our tears, and sometimes we need them, particularly to combat the darkest of days. If you enjoyed Ashcloud’s poetry, you can view some of her other superb work such as, “Is it Wrong?” and “A New Star is Born“.

Featured Image CC // Kim Seng