Autumn Storm

Dirt flecks spew the ground as I
dash through the puddles
like rivers that seep on tarmac,
water moulds my skin;
a black lava
mirroring the growling sky above.

My limbs flail through
a moment of stillness
as raindrops shudder,
waiting for that beam
of sunlight to illuminate
all in sparkling white and gold.

Dissolving into grey,
raining dust
as the heavens split their seams
humouring the belly
of a carnivorous beast
as the light fades.

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Copyright © 2014 by Kate W J White (All Rights Reserved)

Inspiration #8

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© Adriana Varela Photography

“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”

~G.K Chesterton

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The Parcel

4311804508_5e3cc7f43bI believe people are like parcels.

They start off nicely wrapped and taped

stamped with fresh ink;

destination marked in black biro.

Some are dropped from the van

others get crushed

as they leave the sorting office.

Scuffed on the floor

kicked and dented as their tape unravels;

words smudged

lying in a pool of rainwater.

Some don’t reach their destination

and countless are lost in transit.

The parcel that arrives at the end of its journey

is stronger;

branded with battle scars.

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Copyright © 2014 by Kate W J White (All Rights Reserved)

Clarity

girl-lake-nature-painting-wallpaper-1920x1080Her face was like Athens.

It was Rome, Alexandria, London.

It was the changing seasons, flashing amber, scarlet;

the colour of the sun.

Fluttering;

like the moth eaten pages of a journal

faded, yellowed; long exposed,

yearning for clarity.

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Copyright © 2014 by Kate W J White (All Rights Reserved)

Inspiration #6

swirl-divider4Going Home

They say there’s a place where dreams have all gone
They never said where but I think I know
It’s miles through the night just over the dawn
On the road that will take me home

I know in my bones, I’ve been here before
The ground feels the same though the land’s been torn
I’ve a long way to go the stars tell me so
On this road that will take me home

Love waits for me ’round the bend, leads me endlessly on
Surely sorrows shall find their end and all our troubles will be gone
And I’ll know what I’ve lost and all that I’ve won
When the road finally takes me home

And when I pass by, don’t lead me astray
Don’t try to stop me, don’t stand in my way
I’m bound for the hills where cool waters flow
On this road that will take me home

~ Mary Fahl 

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All through my life these words have followed me, and sometimes I find myself repeating them due to the comfort they bring. Hopefully we will find this place, or at least have something closest to it, that we can call home.

“Martin Chuzzlewit”- The Dark Horse of Dickens?

swirl-divider4Described by Dickens as “in a hundred points immeasurably the best of my stories”, we come to the 7th of his novels, “Martin Chuzzlewit.” Unfortunately, the general public didn’t seem to agree about it being the best, so it has always remained low profile.

You can argue it’s  natural and typical-an author’s pride, joy and dear baby never seems to be appreciated by others quite as much as they themselves do. So we can feel for Dickens.

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Mr Pecksniff and old Mr Chuzzlewit

1) The themes explored in the novel include murder, satire, deception, selfishness, selfishness and more selfishness. (some are not very nice people).

2) The protagonist Martin travels to America to a colony situated in a swamp, he becomes very ill,  is at the brink of death and sinks into a period of ruin and despair. Despite his hardships, he becomes much improved by the time he returns to Britain, with the aid of his very optimistic and jolly friend Mark Tapley.

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3) It illustrates Dickens’s turning point towards the darker threads of human nature and refinement of his writing style, comparing the satire and humour of “Nicholas Nickleby” against his later novels such as “Tale of Two Cities”, “Our Mutual Friend”, “Great Expectations” and “Bleak House”. 

4) Dickens portrays America in a poor light; “deface the banner of the nation for an idle rag, pollute it star by star, and cut our stripe by stripe as from the arm of a degraded soldier.” Offensive to many of his American readers? It seems the novel and its characters are quite biased in regards to Dickens’s first visit to the country. He must have had a really bad experience….

Our Mentionable Characters:

  • Mr Pecksniff and his hypocrisy. He is a character you are itching to strangle. Even the online dictionary has an entry in his honour. Pecksniffery/Pecksniffian: adj- affecting benevolence or high moral principles.
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Martin, Mr Pecksniff with his two daughters and Tom Pinch

  • The admirable Tom Pinch who puts others needs before his, humble and loyal. Everyone’s friend. You want to wrap him up in cotton wool and keep him safe. But without the juxtaposition of other villains and the unfair trials Tom must bear, his positive qualities cannot shine through.
  •  Martin is not the focus. He is weak minded, sometimes fickle and lacks a commanding personality despite his improvement later in the novel. An interesting question is how he is comparable to Dickens’s other protagonists?? Oliver Twist, David Copperfield, even Nicholas. (yes it has come to a point where I am on a first name basis with him)
  • Mrs Gamp. Described as a “drunken and verbose” nurse, she provides much comedic relief to the story. Honestly, the things she says hardly makes sense, but she is reliable and does her job well. That’s all we need to know.
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Mrs Gamp immortalised on a stamp

5) Perhaps you need to be a die-hard fan to be motivated to finish this novel. It is quite wordy and so dedicated reading is a must, to pick up from where you left off. Maybe one day I will give it another chance from the beginning! Though it took me a lot longer to complete, nevertheless- I did enjoy it and will be sad when my collection of Dickens is finished! I console myself that there is yet “A Tale of Two Cities” to go…

Inspiration #4

il_570xN.495878438_nf94“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore –
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door –
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door –
Only this and nothing more.”

*

“Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the lost Lenore –
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Nameless here for evermore.”

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~Stanza 1&2, from The RavenEdgar Allen Poe