Tuesday, 30 June 2009


It creeps from behind and wraps you in its arms
takes you by the soul and pulls you for the ride
makes you think your so far from harm
and when you dance theres no need to hide
sweeping you up in the moment the bass makes sure
your up on your feet and tap or sway
the grinding beat pulses through shoes from the floor
and takes you for the day.
Music is the soul for your life it accompanies your day
it can make you smile or cry and dance
makes you think you can have your way
when your in that crazy chillin trance.

Friday, 26 June 2009

Missing myself

Im not me anymore. Sometimes i catch a glimpse of what i used to be but that sudden rayon of sunshine is soon overcast with the clouds in my eyes. Ive changed so much now that my normal state, my old self, isnt my normal state anymore. Have i changed for good?

Recently, ive noticed more gaps in the grey overcast skies, revealing the soul i was before the ''disaster'' and maybe thats who i am? I have to follow the light, the light at the end of the tunnel to find myself again. I dont know whether, though if i reach the end of the tunnel i will find myself. I will just have to wait and see. But so many pot holes are in there, and its a dark and lonely walk. But if i sprint im bound to fall. Is it him that i need to walk towards?

I feel like im letting people down by being sad, i feel like i will ruin their day or they will mock my mourning, so i paste my china doll quick fix no nails smile on. That way no one will ask questions. Or say anything mean. Or feel the need to go out of their way and make me smile for real.

Thursday, 25 June 2009

Great men to fall in love with in literature, are phonies.

Mr Darcy. Edward Cullen. Romeo Montague. Mr Knightly. Heathcliff. Jack Dawson. Tarzan.

Great fictional men. Whatever floats your boat I guess. Those that are opened to the wonders of literature will have noticed the great span of men that seem too perfect to be true. Reading about their brooding personalities or their rock hard chests that the heroine gasps and holds onto on those cold nights. And what do us readers get? A good book to fantasize over and ruin our chance of finding our very own Mr Darcy or Romeo. The fact is for us romantics, and those girls that try to deny it are lieing to themselves, the men in these books and plays are written to be perfect. And i for one am very upset about this. For we set the bar too high for the nomad boys and men to match up too, therefore letting us women down. an we please be taunted and ravashed by a man that isnt perfect but is irrisistable. hmm thats maybe what attracts us then eh?

But then again would we really want to fantasize over a guy that shags his best mates girl and cocks up all the time? i Guess not. But its what we will have to live with until one guy gives us rose colored glasses again.

Love to my Literature Lovers.

By Casper. The Original.


Tuesday, 23 June 2009

country laze, sunny daze.

She walked along the road with her school bag slung over her shoulder as she struggled with her new gigantic art folder. To the side of the road her sight was diverted to a mushroom circle of poppies. Bending over to pick one up, her folder bent and slipped from her grasp. This is when she decided to talk a gander off route home.
Along the side of the golf course the grass grew high, high enough to engulf her knees and lower. Randomly to the edge of the course a long knobly log was drawn up to mark the edge. Slinging her folder to the floor, where the grass was freshly cut to keep up appearences. You could still smell the fresh spiring smell that wafts over after a cut. She reached in to her bag for her bottle of water and takes a swig. She felt for the flower blazeing contrast in her mass of blonde loose curls that she had put for safe keeping, leaving the lid to her water she popped the poppy in with the head poking out.
Lying face down with her head leaning to the side against her arms she watched the ant walk up and down her arm dazily in circles as if on drugs.
A cheer from a putt in one woke her from her country laze, more like sunny daze. Swiftly she heaped her belongings and set off for home.

Monday, 22 June 2009

What would you do ?

I've never had to think of today being my last day, however reading this book i have stumbled across this topic. What would i miss the most, or who, more importantly? What would you do if you found out that this was your last day on earth? Last chance to walk bare foot across the grass. Taste the chocolate linger on your tongue after that chocolate bar that you consumed so fast that you dont even notice. Would you tell the people who meant the most, how much you loved them. Tell them that its your last day, or simple let them know you love, loved and will always love them.

From the way i interpret life, you only get one, so live it as if its your last day. Leave behind no what if's with your footprints in the sand that will soon be washed away with the tide. If i knew, heaven forbid that i were today this time tomorow, i dont know how i would react. No one does. But i know that i would not let fear swim in my veins and do the unimaginable. I would walk up to the one regret that hosts a seed of doubt in my mind and tell him the insides and outs of my heart. Selfish i know to think of tht at a time like that but hey i cant help it.

I saw the poppies growing and springing up everywhere on the way home, but i didnt automatically think of bloodshed that we are brainwashed to do at school. I thought of how beautiful they were. Are. How something so pretty can be linked with something so unGodly is beyond me. Most things are, but i was born to question, as we all are. I looked up to the sky and then down to my hands. I placed my hands upon the walls that make my house. Everything has material worth. I want to be one of those poppies blowing in the wind signifing somemthing. They are important, because no matter what they link back to the dead, and then the soldiers are remebered. I wonder if there is something for every dead person, something i mean that reminds the living of them. I hope there is. For me i would hope it would be clouds, because i see my self as a cloud i guess, forever drifting like the tide.

Memories are like streams of thoughts, they pop up everywhere. But they hurt, alot. They can make you laugh so much you actually pee yourself, or your stomache hurts real bad. If today was my last day, i would have called up all my family, take a camera and go to the field and wait for them to turn up an hour late. Time for me to look at the world. The trees, the flowers the bees, the birds, the litter, the ineveitable litter cast in the gutters and ocacionally strewn in the flower beds. Then they would turn up and i would tell each and everyone how much i love them, without them knowing the truth, and have a good old knees up, record the whole day on camera. I want to be remebered. For the good. I dont want people to think of all the selfish things i have done, said or thought. And that in itself is a selfish thing.

If i could miss something when i go i dont know what i would miss the most, surprising my dad with a cuppa tea whilst he is working and see his smile. Hugging him and feel his akwardness but knowing that he still loves me. Reading my book in the prescence of my closest and dearest most treasured friend whilst she is on her laptop, feelilgn so comfortable knowing she is there 3 metres away yet so close to my heart i could burst. The Christmas mornings when both my brother and sister lived with me and we would cuddle together in one of our beds and open our stockings together, them knowing what i got and smiling at my belief in Santa. Shoutinng with my mum at how im not a kid anymore yet both of us knowing this argument would be over within a couple of hours and we wouldnt stay mad at each other. All these memories i will hold in my heart, with many many more. That is what i would miss. My memories, because without them i am nothing.

Saturday, 20 June 2009

Far too short

There are some people in the world you know you can count on. Not just to be there, but to understand when you don't want them there and totally understand it. I have a friend like this. And i'm sure that when she reads this she knows its her. We arn't exactly two peas in a pod when it comes to personality but with friends you don;t always have to be. You can become friends with someone totally opposite and thats what makes it the most bizzare relationship. My friend, i love her to bits, is there for me, always, i accept all the things that annoy me about her but they are what come with the package anyway. And to be honest they aren't bad, the things that annoy me, just pet peeves, like always saying she isn't good at something when i think the total oposite. She means the world to me and i wouldn't change her or swap her for anything in the world. We have been friends for so long now that it seems almost wrong to call her my best friend. She most definatly is a part of the family. Most definatly. My soul sister. I only hope that i can be there like she is for me.

Friends are something you cant take for granted. When they are gone, boy do you feel like a plank. Its like haveing to live without an arm, well for me anyway. Real, true friends don't come along that often, so you have to treaure them. Let them know that you are there for them too. They are the angels on earth for you. They are there to wipe your tears when the bastards in your life break your heart. And when they cant be there for you in form, they are there for you in spirit. I have experienced this, and i love her so much more for this. Just being there talking to her helped me through it. Do you have a friend like this? You may not know it but there is probably someone in your life that is there for you too. And you have to find them and make them know that you love them for it. Because life is far too short. Far too short.

Thursday, 18 June 2009

you'll see.

kill me now.
it seems that when the topic of my future pops up, we all go into a frenzy.
i know i dont know what i want to do.
but at least im ok with that.
i have time to sort my life out.
and whats wrong with having a dream?
whats wrong with not wanting to be in it for the money?
why cant i have a dream of having a job i love?
oh yeah cos my parents say so.
its ridiculous.


its my life not yours.
i am the one that is going to have to live it.
not you.
so bug out.
leave me to my own mistakes.
at least ill learn from them.
im sitting there in the room full of people shouting at me what i should do.
what i shouldnt.
what ive done wrong.
all telling me what path i should follow.
because secretly deep down that what they wanted to do.
but didnt.
but couldnt.

well shouldnt i be the judge of whether i do or not?
it will be my money after all.
you'll all see.
when im there.
older with a career i love.
and sufficiently.
and content.
then you'll see.

Wednesday, 17 June 2009

of the day

hello. welcome to my blog of the day. 17.06.09. 16.45.
thought of the day. ''why cant i grant my conciousness peace.''
colour of the day. grey. a grey cloudy day for the pathetic falousy of my mood.
number of the day. 3. number of times i have wanted to gouge my eyes and memory out.
song of the day. ''full moon'' the blach ghosts.
i hate this enternal system, where i cant escape myself of these stupid thoughts. stupid girl. i can sit in a room, like a tin of sardines, brimming with people, and yet i will sit there, looking straight ahead, thoughts spinning this way and that. I like not being noticed, and i hate it when people ask if your ok. ofcorse im not ok! would a normal person truly trusting in themselves with nothing to worry about sit ice cold in a room of friends? no. that is your answer. but i know you will never leave me if i give you the real answer will you? so i lie. its only a white lie. it wont ever affect YOUR life. its like acid on my skin, burning away all the fences i ever put up, those eyes that look apon me. and when you ask whats wrong. how can i tell you when there is no end to that question. just an eternal system of wrong doings in my life. so next time you see me ask me only this.... .
Blameing myslef seems to be the only answer to the question of my life.
By casper. the original.

Monday, 15 June 2009

back paddling.

Dont want to forget
dont want to remember either
going out of my mind
and i just want to find her
that girl with blonde hair
back before all the drama
would never have cared
or let anyone harm her
i want to be strong
and want to forget
but i can live just as long
i never remember
it hurts to think
it hurts to feel
i want to take this stupid heart and rip it from my chest
because all i seem to do is hurt
why cant i live with out a heart huh ?
cant i live with a pump instead one that doesnt have feelings
i cried today.
i fucking cried over a fucking boy. a BOY !?
i know !
and oh no this isnt recent. after all this time im still hung.
hand me a noose and let me get it over with.
im definatly sure its more humaine than letting me live like this.
GOD ! oh damn even that makes me think and then makes me hurt.

Tuesday, 9 June 2009

a wish for a love for a man, like no so.

oh greek Adonis with your olive tanned skin.
whisk me from my bed and take me from my dreams.
shake me from my nightmares and hold me by your chest.
i'll soon forget about the rest.
Adonis or shall i call you Edward.
with your billowing open white shirt.
craddle me in thou strong tensed arms.
where i'd never feel alarmed.
Oh be still heart. you shall meet him someday.
You have not meet him, you know of him not yet.
no need for your turbulance in that cage of yours.
when your like that. i'll not open the doors.
you know not of this feeling called love.
infactuation and lust and desire.
but along he will come call Darcy if so care.
Make love with his fingers entwined in your hair.
Edmund or Edward, Darcy, Adonis.
handsome and trusting and truthful and honest.
loyal and brave, sweet and attentive.
trates of a man who needs no insentive.

Sunday, 7 June 2009

run home

spinning, twisting, fighting for freedom
looking, listening, longing for hope
i keep waiting to find somewhere i can go
to be me
running home, with the blood in my veins
wind in my hair, ridding the guilt
somethings telling me this is not my place to be
to be me
this body is mine, the way the skin on my bones
reaching and pulling my soul back and forth
from here to there, out then in
never know where to begin. being me.

Friday, 5 June 2009

I know you may never read this.
but i need to say it anyway.
i love you.
i need you on earth but if your needed elsewhere, go.
she may be waiting to hold your hand again.
to smile at you and ask you what took you so long?
to kiss you and still feel her cheeks go red and the flutter in her stomach.
we all love you. we do. we give you all
you need. our Angels too. xoxo


somedays are just a waste of emotion.
a wate of time.
a waste of tears.
i look out side and see cat in the greenhouse. she will die too.
i think of jasmin. how will she cope.
at the moment i want to be a writer.
i want to spend my time writing from the heart as i do for you here.
can i do that for a living?
i dont know.
the mist that clouds my future will someday lift.
and it will be clear.
i like grass. the plant. or weed. what ever it is.
i like it.
its fresh and clear. especially when it rains.
i like standing in the rain with my face to the heavens and smile.
its a good way to waste such time.


How can we tell if its your time or not?
is this a part of what God has planned?
all we can hope is that your Angel looks down
wipe away your tears and flip your frown

we will be waiting our hope united
strenght is shared between our hearts
take our hope and fearlessness
and return with glowing healthiness.

a Prayer for light.

Angels above we need your light
we need your strength to help him fight
he says hes fine, but his eyes say not
to help him we've not an awful lot
their emblem is a small red cross
to show the illness just whos boss
give them all they need to cure
theres not much more one can endure
i know nans waiting to join hands
and even if it's not God's plans
we want his health to treasure here
with all the people he claims dear
help those who hurt from his pain
turn all their tears away from rain
show them your light in times of need
and cast it to earth with heavenly speed.

Dear readers,

i'm sorry.i'm trying to be more possitive.
but that same old darkness wraps me in its arms.
and those arms are the most comforting i've known.
i hate the feeling of being trapped.
i hate when someone pulls me close and tries to make me feel better
through an embrace.i know of no-one who could make me feel the oposite.
i can.i lie.he can hold me and i want to stay there forever.he doesnt know this.
he doesnt know this.
but i'm losing him.
God is sweeping him in the northern winds.
to get that chance to tell him how much he means,
would that not seem morbid?
i want so much to emit the hope i need to have,
but once again this darkness craddles me once more.craving my fear.


casper - the friendly ghost of your imagination.


Thursday, 4 June 2009

Sordid tales of Human Nature #6 Jack and the beanstalk

He left his house, daisy in tale
to the market where he would sell
buisness was slow, buyers rare
till came a hag with wiry grey hair

Ill give three beans for the cow
the're magic, but cant tell you how
but precious are these so dismay
and she took the cow at the end of the day

Beaming smile jack walked back quick
to show his mum the deal he made
''you stupid boy your suck a dick
their mearly beans to eat.''

scared alone tends to his wounds
his mother gave as punnishment
he never knew her swinging moods
and threw the window the magic beans went

he woke up slow his prick in hand
a great way to forget the night
but there was something he didnt understand
what blocked the sun from his face?

A giant stalk, big and green
past his window through the clouds
he new it was the magic beans
yeah fuck you, narrow minded bitch

he cleaned his hands and donned his jeans
not beliving whart he had seen
up and up the winding ladder
it seemed to go on for ever and ever

to the top with sweat and tears
a land so great beyond his fears
girl apon girl like fantasies
a dream he thought of what he sees

he walked around, a new love intrest
they soon flocked over to check him out
and soon enough he was undressed
''i love this place'' out he would shout

but soon enough it got too much
he couldnt take the constant need
constant sex, breakast, dinner and lunch
softer harder slower and the need for speed

jack needed rest couldnt take much more
as he and three girls slept on the floor
he wondered what his mother would do
if she saw this life, would she join it too ?

but in the night after a midnight shag
he set off down the plant
remenising of the great time he had
and stroled on in to his room

the morning came and he got up for brunch
his mother was angry at his leave
she swung her hand and heard a crunch
jacks adventure was no more

not great i must admit ): sorry guys

black room

i'm walking down this hallway
and the walls are dark and black
i'm fighting for an ending
know there's no turning back

The floors seems closer
than it first seemed
i'm on my knees
can i be redeemed?

I'm sweating 'cos its draining
my knees are turning black
the scratches mark my journey
prove i can't go back.

My eyes they sting
the rain drys down
my cheeks are damp
and cloud my frown.

I'm crawling to the corner
where the walls are slightly white
my knees i draw them closer
but with my feelings i still fight.

To think of peace
and act all calm
folds the worries
into my palm

i'm opening my eyelids
to the dark and dingy wall
i shake of the remains
of my faithless hurtfull fall.

''dear readers, i spun this poem a long time ago, sorry for the darkness. Hang on you should be used to it by now, right?'' - casper xoxo


have you ever thought that your happiness could pop
that if you got too happy God would snatch it back
sqeeze it till it burstcrack it like an iceberg
and if i stop try to please them all at once
maybe my happiness would shine on selfishly
desicions i can not make promises i can not break
Looking for guidence on a petit filous pot
for wisdom the back of crisp packet
they dont know i seek for more im the seeker of the law
What is right to do in places where silence is required
but all your conscience tells you to do is scream to break the ice
the little man that sits on my shoulder in red he tells me the selfish
and the little in white sits on the other and directs me to whats right
signs and directions i can not followbe it a rabbit with a clock or a umpa hobbit fellow
im alice in a world where i dont know what to do where i dont know where to go what door to open what window to climb out of
whom can i trust
when my heart is full of lust.

Wednesday, 3 June 2009

Moon of night, stars so bright
help me shine the torch of light
guide my hands, through these lands
help me grow to understand
Give me power, as i flower
under the moonlight dont let me cower.

Angel of the north, sun, sea and souls
Guide us lost ones through the cold.

See it my way

Theres a blue haze apon all you see
The sunlight is that little bit dimmer
And the rays that used to burn just sizzle
Seeing isnt just seeing, its looking and understanding
Annalysing and interpreting
Through the dusty blue eyes is a glimmer
A porthole to the soul
The soul is screaming, but the sounds reverberate
Bouncing of the walls im bound to survive in
As if the glass i peer through is not the same as others
They look through opaque plastic
Matching their skin
Im bound with steel