Drunk in the Amber Moonlight

I sit here in the amber darkness, pleasantly drunk on fruity toxins that tug on my thoughts like children on their mother’s skirts. Two decades and more have not immunised me of that harsh orange glow that outlines my midnight world.

I stare from my window, my portal from comfort to the outside world. All that I am rests at my back while nature’s shaded husk greets me through the glass. There are no stars, only an indistinct blur of civilisation that consumes the heavens like oil on water. What was once fields, woods and marshes now stand in regimented rows of brick and plastic watched over by tall guardians of fluorescent light. Darkness is but a ghoulish shade of our minds.

Before me, blocking my view and blinding my jaded eyes like God upon Mount Sinai stands one such guardian. It fills my mind and my world with amber imaginings even through closed curtains and eyelids. All that it truly protects is my insomnia. My insanity. This beacon of society surveying my sovereign kingdom, as foreign as the square sun that rises in my dreams, as familiar as the eyes that have looked upon it their every damned day.

Winter Night

It is a winter’s night

cold is thick in the air

and my covers do nothing to protect me

from the icy fingers that claw

across my skin.

0

The wind howls outside

rattling the doors

sending a ghostly draft

through the house like the malign

breath of a sleeping god.

0

I shiver and bury myself

deeper into the confines

of my cotton prison

seeking the warmth

that my soul has lost.

0

Had the world always been so cold

or has the heat faded

alongside my life

or maybe all is still warm

and I am simply dead.


This is the last poem I have from uni that I feel is remotely worth sharing. It was written during a bout of depression and could do with being more subtle I think. I wanted to capture the bleakness of how the world can feel when the darkness is washing over you mind and soul. Those times where you lay in bed on a cold night and contemplate the world.

City Gods.

margaret-bourke-white-05

Steely eyes gaze over clustered concrete flowers

A god of man-made nature looking down upon creation

Always alone except for now

As he stands humbled beneath the female form.

Hello

Sat high, higher than beast, God or man

Fearless and majestic, an eagle in her own right

The phallic power beneath her

And the eternal memories of humanity held loosely in her hands.

    Can anyone hear me?

Primal winds whip past as though in flight

But neither woman nor eagle stirs

Both ignore the signs of life

And focus only on the unreal.

     Love you all 

Oh but to fly through the smog-cloaked sky

Dodging mountains and buildings with equal contempt

To soar up to Heaven on winds of change

But man has chained them down, always as forever.


This was a poem I wrote in my poetry lecture back at uni. It was nothing but a warm up task where we were each given a random picture as a prompt to write about. I was given this captivating photograph of the photographer Margaret Bourke-White.

The language might be a bit pompous. Any English based subject feels like you need to mention Freud and phallic themes at least once every day. As such I started to use those sorts of language and themes more to meet my tutor’s standards. I found it all a bit bullshit really. I write fantasy and my poetry was simple. It was either dark expressions of dark emotions or happy musings on my lovely dog. This was an attempt to be more academic. I actually quite like it.

Tell me what you think.

Minas Tirith is the kind of creative thinking that we need.

Some of you may have already seen the crowd-funding campaign set up buy a group of ambitious architects to construct a habitable replica of Peter Jackson’s representation of the city of Minas Tirith from J.R.R. Tolkien’s masterpiece, The Lord of the Rings. If you haven’t heard anything about it yet then check out their page here: www.indiegogo.com/projects/realise-minas-tirith. Continue reading

The Witcher 3 Let’s Play and Story Analysis

Hi guys. Something different today. After playing through The Witcher 3 and realising just how great the game was, I wanted to play it through again on the hardest difficulty. I also wanted to give my thoughts about what the game did right and why I believe it to be best.

The result of that is this 40min first part of a let’s play type video. My voice is terrible, I don’t talk much aloud and am very socially awkward and that really shows in the video. I’ve never done anything like this before so any feedback is welcome.

I hope that if I keep this up it will help me to overcome my inability to speak and improve my confidence.