About Me

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Self-published author with 3 books out there dealing with the darker side of life through poetry, short stories, observations and sketches. 'Love or Suicide and the Life In-between', 'this heat, it's hell closing in on me' and 'Words to be performed from under a table by the last of us'. Can't live without music (heavy metal and soundtrack's especially), film buff (sci-fi floats my boat), anime watcher (old school mainly), book reader (anything that captures my interest), gamer (PS4/Xbox-One), gym pumper and all round geek.

Monday 15 August 2011

I finally did it...

...after entering many competitions and being shortlisted in the top 5 twice, I have finally won a writing competition.

My poem entitled 'She' has won first prize for The Writers News magazine.  To say I was happy was an understatement!!  I was over the moon; I had finally won a writing competition!!  Even though I was becoming a little frustrated and feeling I was never going to win, I continued to enter these writing competitions and continued to write my best regardless of subject or rules.  And it finally happened!  I now await my prize and publication of the poem in The Writers News magazine which I intend to frame when I receive!!

I have also put into plans the self publication of my first book, 'Love or Suicide and the life inbetween' aiming for it to be done and out by the end of September, whilst beginning my second book which be a collection of poetry on the subject of Life...exciting times!!  So below is a poem which will be included in said book...hope you enjoy...back to it!!


A crack in the ice

Amongst the angst of life and stone,
we struggle and question each decision,
our brave façade a crack in the ice,
our brave façade a false reality.

Surrounded by our hot water and bed linen,
comforted by the bricks that lock us in.
Proud of the fancy floors we walk upon,
our arrogance keeping us afloat any-ways.

The lure and pull of the cardboard office,
an excuse to ignore the family life.
The higher we climb up the corporate ladder,
a reason to look down on the empty spaces.

The fancy car, the crazy nights, the young lust,
the wife left at home nothing more than scum.
Kids, mere objects that get in the way,
their tears twisted, their blame reversed.

And as we pretend it's alright,
we pretend we can change.
And as we pretend it's normal,
we pretend we can stop.

Then before you know it, its too late,
your past a sludge of unimportance,
your future limited to piss and wine,
and that crack in the ice now a hole.