She waits.

She waits for a pledge of redemption

Her sins require such secular attention

with soulful sad eyes forever cast down

so there would be no-one to see the frown

That disolves away into broken tears

Merely an echoing throughout her years

So she sits, just patiently yearning

All the while knowing her soul is burning

in the making of her own personal hell

But there would be no-one to tell

If you look close the story rests her eyes

past the carefully made up lies

As she waits for her redemption

For her there is no ascension

thought of the day

So as a writer I tend to read a lot of literary articles  and I came across this one today.

The author could have a point but within two minutes of reading, I as person who writes poetry and studies it, was completely lost.

Why are so many people literary snobs?

If you want to read erotic fiction that’s cool. If you want to read sweet romance or hardcore sci-fi go right ahead.

If you want to read (or write) bad poetry then do it.

The author interviewed in the piece I posted the above link for states:

It’s like Pound in his “Notes for Canto CXX”: “Do not move / Let the wind speak / that is paradise.” I’m pretty suspicious though of the grandiosity and fatalism of the valorization of silence. I don’t valorize it.

Er, talk about grandiose.

Poetry is interpretive by the reader. As an author you have an idea in your head but as a reader that idea is dependant on your own circumstances. A poem I wrote that touched upon suicide had readers thinking it was about a break up.  That’s cool.  They related it to something in their lives.

Poetry is expressionism.  Its raw.  It’s emotive. It lives.

I don’t write in meters generally.  The stressed and unstressed consonants make me cross my eyes and get a headache. I write flowing verse. Sometimes it rhymes. Sometimes I use slant rhyme. Sometimes I struggle to get a rhyme in there and the line just doesn’t work.  (That’s when I make scribbling out into a piece of impressionist artwork!) But there is nothing better than writing something down that creates a picture in my head. That leaves its own memory.  That’s what writing poetry is about.

I’m working on a collection of my poetry at the moment.  I want to get my words out there and if people read them great. If they like them, even better.

So yeah, you know. Don’t be a snob about what people like.  Don’t judge.


Poet Voice

I actually find myself doing this when I’m reading my own poetry and I have no idea why. I suddenly lurch into Captain Kirk when I’m reading and insert random pauses and commas/breaks at any point in the sentence.

I struggle enough when I’m writing to ensure that the poems rhythm is correct (or nearly correct)  and the rise and fall of the words in the sentence draw the reader in and lead them to the conclusion.

It is almost as if when I’m reading I have to be more ‘arty’ than the next person, as though I feel a need to demonstrate just how clever I am to string words together in a poem.

We’ve all got a little bit of a poet in us, from appreciating the naughty limerick to loving the classics we avoided in school, to secretly writing our own work.

Regular readers will know that I am published,  what they will not know is that despite sending my manuscript out time and time again, I have a collection of rejection slips. Poetry is subjective.  Poetry is only poetry if someone can appreciate it, not publishers (although that would be nice) but the people who read poetry for love.

Which is of course, amazing,  but it’s time to bring poetry into the light because if you don’t then more of us will just adopt a ‘poet voice’ and no-one really wants that.   😉

A is for All the A’s.

Attitude, Arrangement, Alliteration, Allegory, Ambiguity!



Writers have to live with a certain attitude. Their own and that of others.   ‘Oh you’re a writer,’ we often hear as though being a writer denotes us as having something wrong with us.  Sometimes when we admit this we get bombarded with references to other writers as though we should follow their example as though we can never amount to anything without following the herd.

Writing takes attitude. We have to have a certain amount of self-belief because not only are we our own harshest critics we also have to put up with everyone else pouring scorn over our work. Especially other authors!  Now that we are in the digital age, (okay we’ve been here a while!) the internet is the breeding ground for bullies and fake friends and… all manner of people.  I am of the opinion that people believe what they do and how they act on the internet is separate to how they are in real life.  Be prepared because when you do put your work out there people will tear it to shreds. There are  a couple of well known websites where one star reviews are common and you know what, in most cases the reviewer hasn’t even read the book.

So if you think that writing is easy, it’s not.  You have to have attitude.  (along with discipline, courage, and self-belief but they don’t start with A.)


Take a line,

Now put it in order,

Remove a comma

Does that make it shorter?

Poetry is all about the arrangement of words.  For years I’ve struggled with the question of whether I’m a poet or a writer.  If I was doing well with my writing chances were that I wasn’t penning poems or if all I was doing was poetry then I wasn’t “writing”.  Now I have balance and I know that I can do both.

Poetry for me is take pure forms of emotion and trapping them in verse.  It’s about arranging words until they feel right. It’s magical when it goes well and hell when it doesn’t. I love developing new rhythms and twisting meanings.  One of my recent works was about suicide and trying to explain (to self or others) why that was an option.  Most people that read it believed that it was about a relationship that was ending. A poet can use AMBIGUITY to twist inflictions within a poem.


As per above, you can think it means one thing and instead they were writing about something else.  Some poets using vagueness in their work deliberately to add ambiguity.  Do you ever read something and ask ‘but what did they mean?’.  A good poet does it to make you think, to keep you interested and a bad poet does it because they are unsure or they want to hide their flaws behind it.

Early on in my writing life I adored using ambiguity in my work.   It was easy to pen something that could be read with a number of meanings.  But poetry requires a certain dedication if it is going to flourish past the fledging  stage. Now if you find ambiguity in my work it is not deliberate to hook or trick the reader but more because of your own interpretations because quite often you relate it to your experiences and emotions.

The strength of a poem relies upon your relationship with it not any tricks we poets put into it.


This is one of my favourite tricks in poetry, using the same letter sound on a line within a rhyme or verse, traditionally it was used on consonants but recently I’ve seen poets use it for vowels too.  I try not to use it often because  it can become stale sounding and tie you into formulaic style of writing.   It’s a good tool for teaching poetry or word sounds to children.

The cold can of coke cools Colin considerably.

As the cotton-like contoured clouds clash

Like passionate pumped up powder puffs

before shielding the sunburst of the sun

For our  Colin, he  with the cold  coke-a-cola can!



Is another of my favourite tricks, not just in poetry but in my other writing too. When writing flash fiction (short stories of limited words) I enjoy leading you down to a conclusion and just as you get there you discover that underneath it all there was another motive, another definition, a different interpretation.  The definition is as follows:

ˈalɪɡ(ə)ri/ noun
  1. a story, poem, or picture which can be interpreted to reveal a hidden meaning, typically a moral or political one.
    (From Wikiepedia)
  Just when you think you have it worked out  there is more below the surface.  Like life, poetry and writing is complex and full of depth.  Always look beyond what you can see.
So this is my first post in the A to Z challenge.  I hope you enjoyed it and tomorrow you’ll tune in to find out what  ‘B’ is!
Love Tele x



When and Can’t.

When you see the pain we have hidden inside,
When you see the fears that we can’t hide.
When you see the horror of all that we know,
Can’t you understand our longing to go?

When you see just what it is to be me?
Can’t you just let me be free?

When you think you can understand,
Can’t you let go of my hand?

When you see that I can’t go on
Can’t you just let me be gone?

When you see
Can I be free?

100 years on…

The 4th August 2014 marked the centenary of the start of the First World War. Some of you may be familiar with my ‘war’ poetry, pieces I’ve written inspired by WW1 poets, my favourite being Wilfred Owen. From WW1 we get a sense of waste of life but because it was so many years ago and the generation that experienced that time are gone we do not get the feeling of loss that people must have endured during that time.

WW1 marked a turning point in military history, the Royal Airforce (RAF) was formed in April 1918, amalgamating the Royal Flying Corps (RFC) and the Royal Naval Air Squadron (RNAS) into one and marking the success of the aerial battles and the use of aerial reconnaissance. Tanks were first used as was chemical warfare. This was not like the battles of the past, WW1 marked war on an industrial scale.

But from the horror of this global conflict there were some remarkable steps forward in human history. The League of Nations was formed, the forerunner to United Nations. The Geneva Convention, although already in existence made further conventions, “rules that apply in times of armed conflict and seek to protect people who are not or are no longer taking part in hostilities, these include the sick and wounded of armed forces on the field, wounded, sick, and shipwrecked members of armed forces at sea, prisoners of war, and civilians.” to which most nations signed up to and agreed. Further to this they also agreed to the Geneva Protocol that outlawed the use of chemical weapons.

Back on home soil the British Legion was formed in 1921 to help those servicemen who were struggling to find employment, who were disabled along with the wives and families of those who did not come back. It was in 1922 that red poppies were used as a form of remembrance. The first shipments were made in France by war widows and they sold out quickly. From there disabled veterans took over making them and as the British Legion took on charity status they poppy became something you had if you made a donation.

As a writer I have been fascinated by the history of that conflict amongst other periods in our history and as a former Civil Servant I fully appreciate the sacrifice that some people can make when they put on a uniform. I will be forever humbly grateful for those that sacrifice so that I can have the lifestyle I do

I conclude with a link to a story I posted on a fansite.