Sandy

Hello readers

Temporary hiatus has been taken off by a stab of inspiration of being trapped indoors at New York due to the hurricane Sandy

Feedback welcome, I did this rather quickly.

What was that saying?

I want to scream

Wailing wandering words

No one knows what they mean

Or why

I want to cry

Weeping tears of ancient woe

Pounding one by one

But why?

I want to wander

They all fear my wrath

Hide away, cowering

Wondering why

Why so sad?

Why so angry?

That’s what they said

But they still don’t know why

What do they think of me?

Where do they go?

Why do they fear me?

What do they wonder?

I remember now

What they say

That Hell hath no fury

Like a woman scorned

Notice

Hello readers

As you may have noticed, this blog hasn't been updated in a while, I feel I need to take time to read books related to my project (namely 1984 by George Orwell)  and develop this further, so as a result, this blog will be on hiatus until further notice.

I return to Uni very soon, this will unfortunately take up my spare time and I will hopefully be doing some more shorter pieces of work that I will hopefully post on here soon, I will of course be working on this project and I will post updates but it needs more time than I currently have.

To all that have read my blog over the summer, thank you very much and I hope to post new pieces soon. :)

Tom

Uprising (Part 1): The Working Man

Here is the first monologue to this story, there will be a number of these overall with a final conclusion to the first part. There may be some delay in between all, but I will attempt to get them up on time.

The events happening in the first part of this story take place twelve months after the speech was made…

6:30am

The alarm goes off

‘Good Morning All, this is your leader speaking, it is the start of a brand new day, and with every day comes one day you’ll never see again, so make the most of it, live life to the fullest and have a wonderful-

BAM!

It breaks with a swing of my hammer. It had to happen eventually. There was only so much more of his shit I could take every morning.

I get out of my bed, the damaged alarm clock lying in pieces on the floor.

I open the curtains.

A grey, clouded day. Like every other day here. Although I felt a period of heavy rain coming on, something this town hasn’t seen in a while.

A raven sitting on the branch outside my house turns and looks at me for a while, before flying away into the distance.

The town looked bleak. The dark buildings stood  like statues. Black trails of steam coming out from the top, adding further darkness to the already grey sky. I hear the faint sound of car horns being beeped. Every day, I see this colourless town, I wonder if this will ever change.

I go and have a shower, bathrooms are the one place in which none of their so called ‘technology revelations’, and even this was 'under review' by the government.

Three years on since his rousing speech, the nation of Great Britain had become anything but great. There was virtually nowhere that weren’t dominated by cameras of all shapes and sizes everywhere. Every house had to have at least five, and if you didn’t have this amount, you would get a visit from Syron’s 'little friends', who would enter and put a camera up without hesitation, whatever the circumstances. Many protestors to this had ended up injured.

I come out of the shower, and go into my room.I look into my wardrobe and see the queue of blue shirts, with black trousers hanging underneath.  I put on one of each and take my black dusty shoes from the wardrobe floor, I then take my jacket from the hanger on my door. Branded or labelled clothes of any sort are no longer allowed as Syron wanted us to ‘sell ourselves as the world’s main brand' so everyone walks around in plain colours .

I head downstairs and put my coat on and remember my keys, which have a tiny sensor inside of it so it can recognise which house someone’s going into, it works to prevent burglary but can also be used to work out who’s going into their house during ‘work hours’ and are promptly paid a visit and ousted.

As I pass the installed camera on the way to the door, the temptation to say what I’m thinking is unbearable.

Locking the door behind me, I reach my car and step inside, I put my keys in the ignition hastily, the car started. All cars had been fitted with the customary camera and all run on an automatic, electric system, Syron had always made being green one of his prime concerns when running for his campaign and his first step was to eliminate all non electric cars, it seemed a good idea to us all at first, as climate change was looking like more of a threat than ever, with the previous winter never exceeding below 9 degrees centigrade and the summer exceeding thirty two degrees, we were currently in the spring which has remained stable around sixteen degrees centigrade.

But what seemed a good idea was thrown by Syron’s incompetence, electric cars were underdeveloped and could not travel long distances before breaking down and were untested and sometimes dangerous. Syron claimed that further developments would be ‘imminent once current plans have been tended to’, these ‘plans’ have been forbidden to all but those very close to Syron’s command. But it resulted in packed motorways and many accidents, where of course blame was shifted to the drivers and never once on the cars.

I was very lucky I lived just thirty minutes away from where I worked, the car could just about handle that amount of driving, but for all else, public transport had to do, and it had become increasingly packed and subjected to severe delays.

It had been just five minutes when I'd got to the end of the residential road when I see a breakdown ahead, and the driver was standing outside of the car. I see them everyday so I'm used to them, but this was different. It was Ahmar Kareem, a friend of mine who had been a noted opposer of the government from the day they started campaigning, he was clear in his views and didn’t hold back with them, and although certain severe punishment awaits anyone who opposes the government in this day and age, he still held his secret views, for he claimed, for all they owned, they could not steal his thoughts. A number of passers by are standing, watching, they seem helpless, as if they were scared to approach him. 

As he turns, I see his face. He looked livid, and all of a sudden, it all came out:

'I’m no puppet, I’m no pawn. Syron, you are SCUM! You outlaw what people say because you can’t see how incompetent a leader you are, a totalitarian government is outdated and always leads to trouble, and I hope all of you SHEEP (he points at all the passers by around him now) realise what you’ve done to this country. This is not Great Britain, this is greedy, grotesque & GHASTLY Britain and it’s your fault Syron. 'I’m sick of electric cars, I’m sick of breaking down and being late for work, I’m sick of cameras watching my every move, I’m sick of YOU, Syron, DAMN YOU! Damn you to HELL!’

His breakdown had attracted a number of passers by, and his rant had further attracted more. The looks reflected shock, but also fear. They knew what was coming.

Two full minutes pass in silence. Even Ahmar starts to look slightly concerned over what he just said.

And sure enough, two police cars roar down the road (these were the only cars that weren’t running on electricity) and out of them step two sargeants, they weren’t particularly massively built, but looked so intimidating that one glance would have you backing off. They approach Ahmar silently like wolves moving in for the kill. I’m not sure what’s going through Ahmar’s mind but his face becomes a sheet of regret and as they approach, slowly turns to desperation. And he lashes out, blindly throwing his fist at the officers and screaming, but all his might was wasted. The sergeant easily grabbed his fist before twisting it behind his back,  and dragging him to the car bonnet to throw him down. As he screams out in agony, they handcuff him, thrust him up and hurdle him into the back seat of the car. Throughout it all, their expressions did not change and though they had picked up many shocked bystanders in their brawl, they calmly stepped into the car, as if they’d just dropped off a parcel at someone’s house.

The car drives away. Silence follows. Then the pedestrians carry on as normal, going day to day

I think to myself: Where is he going? What are they going to do to him? There have been many rumours that have spread about the punishments received, none of them pleasant, some say a simple night in an enclosed jail cell, but some have said much worse, the judicial system has naturally gotten far more firm. – the government have recently announced that they were ‘considering’ instating the electric chair as capital punishment. It has not been officially confirmed, but the vicious rumours have spread with more coming out every day.

I'm sad. Not just for Ahmar, but this country. Every word Ahmar has said is right, this leader has truly led us to despair. And his desires are some that I share. Its time something was done about this, but what and who can stop this menace on our country? How can we express this other than in our private thoughts, which is the only place he can’t access. God, how I'd like to attack him, make him feel the suffering that we had, just to hit him where it hurts. To get all the suffering and pain out of him before I dispose of him. Its my one desire. But I am but one person and these are but wishful thoughts.

And as I drive on, and enter the busy main road and notice another traffic jam ahead which is most likely another breakdown, I look at my watch and realise that I'm going to be late for work. And the wishful thoughts intensify...

Uprising (Part 1): The Speech of Lord Syron

Hello, so I have started my next official project, this will be slightly longer and will be split into two parts. I will be posting part 1 of this story over the summer period, postings may not be as frequent  as I have a job that starts soon so may not have as much time for writing and need to sort of know more what I'm writing. this will reassure you that I am still working on it. Hope you enjoy it =)

There are various perspectives in the first half of the story, this first one is consisted of dialogue alone.

This is the speech following the election of Thomas Syron as leader of Great Britain. He is the leader of the totalitarian government, Redbreak:

‘Ladies & Gentlemen of Great Britain. today is a landmark day for you, me and future generations. It is not just the day in which that you have picked Redbreak as your leaders of the country. The start of a new age.

‘The recession has plunged us into dark times; we’ve been disorganised, panicking and led by an incompetent force. With Redbreak, the decisions that will be led by myself and my comrades will only be in the interests of you, the public. For you are what spurs me on, you are the catalysts. You are that slight spark which never fades, and with us, it will grow into a huge flame.

‘All the decisions that I will make will be made with you in mind, with no hesitations, debates, growing fears. I will despatch of whatever pathetic laws the previous government had in mind, to get what’s right for you, my children.

‘And we will be a stable government. Your hard earned money will be very much safe with us. I’m sure many of us are pet owners like myself, we all know that a pet is for life and not just for Christmas, and that should be the same for your government.

‘However, for us to become a force to be reckoned with, we must move forward. Because, my comrades, it is with great misfortune that I say, that we are stuck in the past. We are too centred on these old ways that have kept us in neutral for so long. We are a stalled car. But with my help, we can move this car into the highest possible gear and have it speeding along in no time, where all the rest of the World’s cars can just sit and watch as it moves so fast.

‘We believe that we must make changes, and the prime suspect is that of technology. We are in advancing times, we are not in the stone age and we, as a country, should represent that. I am sure everyone here has a mobile phone and some of you may indeed be tweeting or facebooking this speech as you type, and go ahead with that, I’d say. You are the ones embracing the technological age and you should be proud of yourselves, but we must advance this further.

‘Technology must become part of our everyday lives, we must move forward, we can’t just follow trends, but create them, and watch as other countries struggle to keep up.

‘With the creation of new technology, will come more jobs and an easier way of life for us all. An advanced, unique way of living. We will be a fully up to date and efficient country.

‘This is the start of something new, you are the generation that fought for change and succeeded. You will feel honoured to be the starters of what will be an oncoming freight train which will run way beyond where it was supposed to run and your children and your children’s children will continue to keep this train moving.

‘Now, I’m being very vague about what it is exactly I’ll be doing, but the artist must take time to construct the sculpture, the writer must take time to compose the novella, before they want the public to see him, it will all come in due course.

‘We will do all this for you, all that we ask of you is to honour us and follow our rules, for good leading can never not come at a price, and all we ask is your patience, respect and clarity in return for what we promise to be a massive step forward for this country. And we know that you will abide by us and respect us, for what reason would there be not to for a nation as ambitious and dedicated as you are?

‘So my fellow minions….Mark this day in your calendars, for This is a day to celebrate, cherish and remember for years to come.

For This is the day in which endless fighting for change paid off.

This is the day where a new beginning is formed.

This is the day where this small spark became a blazing flame.

This is the day where we stand tall, proud and honoured when we…are called GREAT BRITAIN!!!

A Secret In The Forest

Apologies for the gap, this is one of my writing exercises that I submitted for another of my assignments, I attempted to use a setting to form a story. I also have another piece relating to trees that I should post shortly.

Before me stands the great forest. Those mighty trees that have stood tall for generations, the setting sun drains them of colour and make their giant shadows shade down on me from a great height. The forest is quiet, the low cheeping sound of a cricket and the shrill call from a jay.

The forest has been abandoned for years. No one dares come here any more. I’ve heard the stories, the myths, strange occurrences have been reported in this forest and there are rumours that the lost souls that are buried here rest in the trees and take their revenge on any of the living. They are all false and you know it, just stupid myths. You know very well that when someone dies, they are gone.

As the light begins to fade away, I realise that time is running out. I step forward into the undergrowth.

It starts to rain. Light rain, nothing more. But later, the wind starts to howl, getting stronger and stronger in screeching gusts, hurling itself at me in anger. As I plod on, the leaves crackle beneath my feet; it gets deeper and deeper as I go along, eventually; my feet sink below the leaves and I can feel them sinking into soft water, I fight against the grip of the water but its putting up a good fight. The rain soon starts to pound down harder, followed by fierce hailstones.

 Its just the poor weather. its late November, of course the weather would be bad.

Anyway, its time to stop soon.

Up ahead I see a clearing and the mud starts to get shallower until I can move my feet above ground. 

I approach carefully, but there on the branch I notice I'm not alone. An owl sits on the branch, its two big yellow globes stare down at me, but in them were not the look of anger or lust towards its prey, they were the look of surprise and discovery.

I couldn't take any chances, I pulled up my gun and shot the bird square between the eyes, it fell backwards and out of view. I heard a soft thump a few seconds later and then nothing. I can't have any witnesses here.

You know you just shot an owl? what exactly is that gonna do? how would that spread the word exactly. Idiot. Just get on with it.

The skeletal trees surround me as if I'm in a boxing ring. I hear a deep rumbling of thunder and a sharp flash of lightning close to me. I get to work. I take my shovel and start digging. My clothes absorb the water like a flannel and my skin is soon freezing. I can’t give up. I eventually dig deep enough. My hands are bleeding. In agony, I take the body out of the bag, and fling it in. I take one last look at his motionless face. No one would find him here. How could I lose. There’s no way I can lose. No one can see me here.

Without further ado, I step back into the dark forest, I hear something behind me and I turn back. I really wish I hadn't.

 .

Flash fiction

In some cases, less is more and Ernest Hemingway originally wrote a story which is considered one of his best works, with the words just being: 'for sale, baby shoes, never used' the emotional power that it generates just couldn't have been emphasised with further words

Here is my first take on flash fiction, in just six words:

Why so sad there, my son?

Fire In Your Eyes

Continuing with the poetry theme, this is a sestina which involves you using six stanzas consisting of six lines each, and the same six end words for each one. Summed up in three final lines at the end. This is my first attempt, its certainly not perfect but its a start

Picture comes courtesy of psd.tuts, which has some beautiful pictures of eyes which is definitely worth a look

I see the fire in your eyes

A flame still ignited after many years.

A blazing desire of hate.

A murderous passion of a thousand lies.

A storm that centres around your heart.

All the fires of hell cannot come close to the fury of you    

Yet, I still remember you

as a bright cheerful soul with shining blue eyes.

Only sweetness and love occupied your heart,

and your intelligence strayed beyond your years, 

you were hurt by the mere thought of hate.

Dead and buried is where that person now lies.

It was when you uncovered the bed of lies

that ate away at you

until it would turn your sweet love to savage hate.

tears came streaming from your eyes

for days, weeks, months, years

it was only sadness that occupied your broken heart.

But now black is the only colour of your heart

you would avenge all those lies,

wait for if you must, thousand years

to kill your fiend that killed you.

You could strike them dead before your eyes,

but you know that they are not the only one you hate.

It is also the World that you hate.

The wide, whirling world in which you are right at the heart.

Within it, you can see nothing but scorn through your eyes,

for your life has been filled with this World's lies.

All the glory that was promised you

and the many happy years.

So here you stand after all these years

Your face drawn with hate.

Now I see that I barely recognise you.

You hold your hand to your heart, 

drop to the floor to lie

and look at me directly in the eyes

In your heart, you see after many years

That it was not the lies that sparked your hate,

it was but You that lit the fire in your eyes.

(not sure why the first few lines are highlighted, sorry!)