Time for sleep in Chateau Rogers but I thought I’d share this piece I found in my odds and ends files from 2009. I’d forgotten about this and even put it under ‘unfinished’.
I kinda like it.
Castles in the Sky.
Sometimes I sit outside on warm summer evenings
And I think such thoughts
Such sad painful thoughts
But I look above to heaven.
There are no gods there, but I see
Great castles in a pink puffed sky.
Figures in clouds
Those dragons. They burn. They hurl fire but they fade.
And I see your face
Feel your fingers in mine
Just history now but I feel them still
And yes… tears come. Sobs from my heart.
At things lost. At memories.
An orange sun sinks in the sky
And I know you feel its warmth too
I feel it touching your skin, I touched it too
And a breeze gently stirs. Bending flowers before it
I feel it on my face, drying tears
Touching my lips, lips that kissed yours.
But I sit here in this sadness
And I wring my hands in hope
That those days will come again
That my exile, my solitude will end
But for now. I will go. Try to forget.
But I feel that one day …
…one day I will return.
When dragon fire no longer
…. Will burn.
Copyright Stan Rogers 2009.
Today I am entering a new relationship. About time I hear you say. But I do enter this relationship with great joy, hoping it will be a great pleasure to me over the coming years. She arrives this afternoon and is moving in with me right away.
I am so looking forward to becoming close to her straight away. I will learn very quickly what turns her on… and off. I will caress her lovely face with tenderness and appreciate the lovely contours of her slim shapely body, which I aim to explore shortly after during our evenings and nights together.
I know that the early stages of any relationship can be testing and no doubt we will have many disagreements as we learn about each other. Yes, she will be stubborn and yes, I will get angry and shout at her frequently as I get frustrated with her ways. But I will learn and soon we will be as old friends.
And until then I can hardly wait till DPD drop her off. My new Razer Phone. 😊
Between the years of 2007 and probably 2010, I reached the peak of writing creativity. I was always more of a poet, a troubadour of this modern age rather than a novelist I felt, but I did turn out Love Sex and Time Travel in 2007 which is still my biggest seller by far. It is also my favourite novel. I actually cried as I wrote parts of it such was the emotion I put into it, which came from my poetry.
In those heady four years, my brain positively crackled with new ideas. I didn’t write because I wanted to make money from it. I wrote because I had to. I didn’t have a future … I had a NOW. If I hadn’t have written my words down, I felt that my mind would explode, and so most days I would just write. I would write more and then more. Beautiful poetry, wonderful words seemed to cascade from my mind continuously it seemed.
Also, during those four years, my life changed totally. It was all down to my words. I gave up the rat race in 2008, taking redundancy, and vowing to never return to 9 to 5 slavery, I left the UK to be with my Sandra in the Seychelles. Ideas as usual poured from me spurred on by Sandra and her love of my words. But it was not to be, the Seychelles was not for me and I unhappily returned to the UK a few months later. But my words never stopped and in 2009 I wrote some of my finest work. I also started the Seer Of Albion, which believe it or not started its life as a simple Facebook status, then a very short piece of philosophy about reading people’s faces for emotions. Then it became my project for NaNoWriMo that year. That is a competition held every year to write a 50,000-word novel during the 30 days of November. I succeeded and won my certificate.
I was inspired in my writing of it and even parts of the story by my Raven who I had first talked to in late August 2009. We became online lovers and then real lovers in December 2009 and then she became my wife in 2012. I thought that my life was complete. My writing did continue into 2010 but something was different. My mind stopped crackling. Writing became something of a chore. I missed daily targets that I set myself. My inspiration faltered and instead of a natural flow it became a chore to try to find it. I had lost the plot. My writing became contrived and forced and so the flow slowed to a trickle. I put that down to being so very much in love with Raven. I was happy and very content and I suppose the need to write diminished because of that contentment. From then until now, apart from a few shining exceptions, I feel my work has been second class and pedestrian.
Yes through these years I did produce some wonderful poetry but it was the exception amongst a sea of dross. My follow ups to Love Sex and Time Travel and The Seer of Albion ground to a virtual halt over those years and that is where they pretty much stand now, along with The Anonymous Poet another novel started in 2014 which I felt had the potential to be my strangest but greatest novel yet. All lay, stuck between about 10 and 20 thousand words. I wouldn’t admit to it but my inspiration had just totally dried up. I became dead inside, mundanity bit, and my inspiration followed it. I had found love but had lost my words.
And now? Well a wonderful thing has happened to me but at a terrible cost to myself personally. The unthinkable, for me, happened and I lost my dearest love. But slowly my mind has started to function again. I wrote Three Castles, I rewrote Until the End of Time, I rewrote Beautiful Brown Eyes. Not by far my greatest work, they still lacked some of my previous fire, but they were a turning point. For 8 years my follow up to Love Sex and Time Travel has lacked direction. I could not see where it was going, I could not imagine the ending, until a couple of days ago. The ending had been there all the time. I had written it already a few years ago and not known that it could be the ending, a wonderful inspired ending that explains both books and will lead to another follow up. Now it will be. I have a direction at last. My end has a start…. I am a writer and a poet once more, if a very lonely and heartbroken one although as she knows, she is always welcome to call me at any time.
© 2018 Stan M Rogers. All rights reserved.
I thought I would finish by posting a piece of poetry from about March 2009. I do admit it was inspired by my very dear friend, Donna Marcozzi. It wasn’t the piece I originally looked for but it does show the emotional depth of feeling I felt back in 2009. Here is, ‘If I Were To Feel Anger.’ It is the past, the present, and the future…….
If I were to feel anger. Tears of rage
Loss of innocence even at my age
Would it be at losing you…before I knew you?
Feel your soul dissipating through my outstretched fingers
Like mist on a summer morning. Dew dissolving under hot morning sun
And a breaking heart in my chest. Feeling your sighs
Touching your face across a void, and mutual highs
But I am me. The guru of love lost.
I find it so hard to be…happy?
So hard…just so hard. Life gives me that as interest.
And I am never ready. Always behind
And where’s the sense in that?
Can I help this feeling of self imposed loss?
Going down with all hands baling
Angry with failing, and fighting my own devils
Punishing myself for imagined future crimes
And past indulgences….back to haunt me
And people feeling anger at me
And I wonder why. Because I dare to be happy?
Because I stepped into their lives?
I hate these feelings of trying to balance
Not to hurt and think of others feelings.
Guilty I suppose… I always am. Perhaps trying
Isn’t really enough.
Should I just lie down? Fulfil my own collapse.
Give up at all that lies before
And any anger I feel is at myself
Audacity at my own hope of being
Temerity at daring to think I could ever possibly be happy.
At daring to think that love isn’t possession
Not control…I want to give. But that isn’t right
Anger at inner turmoil. At trying so hard
At being the person I aspire to be
Anger at the insults I receive?
No not really…just sadness at negativity and pain
And spite, the worst of human sins.
©2009 Stan Rogers
When the world was still, young, so young,
We were in love.
Lips touching, latte frothed and smiling
And in morning’s first grey of dawn
In love warmed sheets, we would wake
And I yearn for those times… those precious days
Such love we shared, for us, no other.
There could never be any other …
There never has been for me.
Leystan, just born then, Matt in his prime.
But Maven, my perfect image of you.
Was my dream, my hope, and I remember
How you saved her from the certain death I had condemned her to
And Maven lived on, for you. For she was you.
When the world was still young. And we were in love.
And I kept that dream… from when our world was still young.
But that raven black moved to your heart
Now cold, now hurtful, now hard… like jet.
Set on hurting the one that you love.
And those lips are still sweet. I know.
But gentle kisses turned to honeyed lies
My sheets are so cold with my lonely pain.
My loss burns into my brain …
No more sunshine smiles … just pain, such awful pain.
As alone I face this loss, this grief
Chilled with my rejection. Hurting. Alone.
But I share this awful guilt with you … equally
For I too, lost sight of our dreams for a time
But I kept the one dream always, I kept faith
And my hand will always be there… reaching for yours.
Yes, I faltered, but my dreams of us never died
They were my one constant, through bad times and good.
My love never faded. How could it?
Nor my love of your sleepy face.
And my memories will never fade
From when the world was still young … and we were in love.
© 2018 Stan M Rogers. All rights reserved.
The night is late, the streetlight glows softly orange
Through the slats of the apartment blinds
An old movie, black and white, plays softly
One she loves. Adding a gentle silver glow to the room
And in my lap, she lays sleeping, sharing our blanket
Sharing our life, sharing a heartbeat
… and sharing a dream
I love to watch her sleep
Gentle breathing, occasional snores
The odd sleep twitch and mumbled word
And I gaze at the one I know I love above all else
The only woman I know I can ever love
Over the years we have been apart many times
But we always find our way home to our love
… to each other
The only love we can know or desire
I feel my leg begin to tingle, pins and needles tingle
But I cannot move it, I cannot
To do so would spoil this perfect moment in time
And I won’t do that
All my love I see before me in this beautiful lady
Complete contentment and happiness
Wrapped in a huddle of blankets and in my arms
… as they gently encircle her warm shoulders
And although I know it can’t,
… I want this moment in time,
To never end, to last forever
Because I love her
I feel her gently stir, and I bend forward to kiss her cheek
A yawn, a smile on that sleepy face I know so well
A look of love in her eyes, such beautiful brown eyes
And that love is mirrored in mine
I love her
And in my love for her
… I am home.
© 2017 Stan M Rogers. All rights reserved.
I am a strong man. I must be, especially right now, and today I was thinking about promises made. I have always set high store on the promises I have made.
To make a promise to a person involves that a promise cannot be made without knowing you have the strength to keep it. It is no good just giving up on that vow. That is why I do consider myself strong. I always keep a personal promise made to a person. For instance, I made a promise to my mother, several years ago before she had a serious stroke that has wreaked havoc on her brain, destroyed it in fact.
We had talked many times pre-stroke, and I knew of her great fear of living her life in a nursing home due to how badly her parents had been treated in one. I made her a promise that she would never be put in one unless there was no other option.
And people say that she is incapable of knowing now if I break that promise, that I should. But a promise made to a person doesn’t just end because that person is mentally handicapped to my mother’s extent. Yes, I could break that promise, but I made that promise and I would know that I had broken it. That is why I cannot.
And it is the same with a promise of undying love for a person. They may not care now if I didn’t follow that promise, they may believe that I should consider finishing that love, but I can’t. I made it in good faith and I thought that another person felt the same. But that promise was made because I meant to keep it. I never considered it a temporary promise. I hoped that person would see that. And it does require from me a lot of faith in that person, even now. It does require a lot of strength from me. But as I said at the beginning of this piece.
I am a strong man.
© 2018 Stan M Rogers. All rights reserved.