Said the thief

The secret life of life (working title)

You hate thieves and spit at their feet.
But I have swum in the bay of Bengal.
I am not seen when I walk down the street.
Though I will be the only one who helps your mother when she falls.

Disgusted faces will be worn by your friends,
when I clear the table of your cold money.
You can't know me because you are not me.
You have learned to read words, not people.

Lightness of foot carries me on and off trains
We are both at the top of our game.
Yet still you try to pity me, so I steal
from your deep and stupid pocket

Because you too are too ignorant to
recognise that I have lived
and seen far more of the world than you.

My First Sonnet (shakespearian style)

2nd Version; almost the same, but it makes a bit more sense now and I have punctuated it - 24/02/12

The lake freezes over fragility,
as innocence dies, water has no shade.
The old elm sheds leaves from reality
little time in which a dryad can fade.
The seasonal anger is clock work true.
Though no one knew she was going to bloom.
The icicles appeared leaving all blue
will Apollo help break into her tomb?
A tight little place between roots and shore.
Dear elm, why did you wait so long this year?
A princess must be a queen to the core
day break sparkle brings us the face of fear.
Our fragile spirit knows not our time
Even though the frost strikes, committing crime.


1st version (as of 23/02/12)

The lake freezes over fragility.
As innocence dies water has no shade.
The old elm sheds leaves from reality.
There is little time in which it can fade.
The seasonal anger is clock work true.
Though no one knew she was going to bloom.
The icicles appeared leaving all blue.
Will Apollo help break into her tomb?
A tight little place between roots and shore.
Dear elm, why did you wait so long this year?
A princess must be a queen to the core.
Day break sparkle brings us the face of fear.
Our fragile tree adheres to our time not
Even when the lake strikes to take her lot.

Re - the old Renault Poem

This started out as a freewrite from an exercise. I was writing about driving from Edinburgh to Norwich, a journey I did a lot when I was younger.

In writing I realised that one particular journey stood out in my mind and it was travelling past Norwich to London. It also started out as a happy memory, but in further drafts I found I split my lines to make them seem a little more sinister... not sure this is the right word, perhaps because they raise questions for the reader.

'He was not my father he said'


I became confused when I was splitting the free write up. I think because I was trying to put it into the form of a poem I thought I needed to use metre and rhyme. I had made a rhyme well with 'Norwich' as my central word and I still used the Norwich/Norway rhyme line to add more of a beat and beef up the stanzas. As this is a free verse poem do I need to comment on this if I used something simillar in my TMA?

I have shyed away from using a particular scheme. I think I might go and try my hand at a sonnet though. I have written on and off for such a long time that I felt I wrote farily intuitively . What I have never done before is share my work. I am trying very hard to follow the BRB and learn the 'habit' along with the exercises. I think when I come to write something within the TMA outline I find it hard to put my process into words that fit within the language we use at the OU. I can only put this down to the fact that I don't fully understand the process which causes me to write what I do.

When I read this poem aloud I know why I want to change words, but I do not know if it is because of their position in metre, if they rhyme and with what word. SO I end up feeling like i have clutched at straws rather than sculpted a poem by means a poet should or would.

Thank you for your time this is really helping to place my thoughts.