Monday, 3 December 2012

The World as it Stands!

There are the bleached haired bomb shells
Lime and orange tanned babes
The glued nails and extensions
Tight dresses and 8’inch heels
Glued to their phones not stop
with their inflated tits and their silicone pumped up ass

Mums taken a blast to the past
again started to wear mini skirts and bustiers
threading their hair
drinking champagne until the bloodstream can’t take any more
got into the culture of face lifts and slimming – can’t be out of fashion

Fathers obsessed with the sport hero’s
the wife cheaters, the movies
and have forgotten about the dinner
the roof has started to cave in
and the lights been forgotten

That’s the generation we live in
where tiny girl walk around in heels
and babies drink coke and their teeth get gotten
children sucked into the generation
of fast fooding, bitching, fucking
not stop preoccupied with their facebook

constant buying clothes, shoes, bags
ski gear, bikes, books, board games
stuff that’s put away in the closet
which is brimming – unable to close
over buying of food while some end up dying

growth growth growth
so which growth that houses fight for their corner
windows ending up glancing one another
all the bus passengers look into your house
and they are able to see your dinner

the flying, the jets, the mansion,
the glamour, the cars and the parties
you think you are so special
but your nothing but a commercial
that nobody would remember
the look alike generation

that bright turquoise eye shadow
you slap on
you aiming for the look of a slapper
so that nobody would forget
how you look is a hooker

the written word long forgotten
emptiness of the soul and the brain
and the stomach
unable to locate Asia or Russia

whirling, whirling, whirling of washing machines
the polluting, polluting, polluting of engines
the noises of fighting, of horns, of cranes and smacking
usual sounds are these for the soulless city

expansion into lands that are non existent
profit the driving force of this gold money age
there was boom and there came bust
but humans are to taken with the tide to remember
when they see Kate in her new dress and slippers
and the new Jaguar comes out
they run to the lines to see the show of talking animals
the magician who has forgotten his hat

chocolate, presents, football,
sex, money and cars are all that matter
but that don’t bring the food platter
when you want what’s not ours
and are lead by the government powers
aiming to constantly gain
and that’s when you pass by the mark insane
so when there is nothing in that safe of ours
maybe you will look out the window
realised you have gained your whole life away
or maybe you wouldn’t
and already it’s too late
when Satan’s laughing at you
and you will just worry yourself thinner
so you can go on the catwalk and be a winner!

By Elena Kokonova 

another of my latest poems. it has become another favourite of mine. hope you enjoy it. 

Fortunes of Fortunes

Rows of woman sowing
no time for a breath
not even looking up
the lack of air and the lack of light

piles of rubbish and walls of trees
smoke of cigarettes links in with factory fumes
dusty plains along the horizon
cracked ground and futureless land

red lights of towers ahead
high topped buildings the symbol of our society
constant commuting of buses, trains, trams and cars
non stop renovation and modernisation

children crying along the floors of supermarkets
homeless people living in dim and dirty ally ways
girls kidnapped brothelized for their whole lives
farmers living on a loaf of bread for a month
plants looking for the light but unable to locate

By Elena Kokonova

A Paradise

The sun peep through the boutique of treetops
while the forest bird choir starts their morning practice
right at the alarm of the woodpecker
Now is their time to be jolly and collect nuts for the winter stash
In the winter snow lines the tree formed arches
under which a human may pass and see the beauty
but not through the forest woodland eyes
There are snow bunches in front of doors
Imprinted paws along the snowed in bridges
So much snow on hills that mountains are created
The shadowy tree stumps look like a cloak
There are many seasons yet the inhabitants all the same
and the noises, the landscape yet everything
looks like a different paradise each time.

By Elena Kokonova 

a poem about the beauty of nature. hope you see the beauty :) 

Ye Olde Around Table

Stony grand castle outstretches touching the sky
Throned at the sovereign ground
Wild Waves with their unearthy powers
A conjured feast to suit many delights
Wine a blessing and the food a mercy
In the air spilled laughter, talk and song
Thine mind haunted with our musical embraces
When our bodies perform the rhythmic spectacle
‘The stars are in thou favour. Thou are wholly blessed’ is Arthurs blessing.
Maids wrap, tighten and lace me up
I poised in an amber dress 
Thine sapphire necklace glints at me
Full moon shadow reflected in thine irises
Rain of thine eyelashes
Thine soul honest, faith and brave against the pale moon
I his folklore goddess have courage
Thine soul unstired by the white lighting across the grim sky
Yet thine soul searches for thine brave lovers hand
Angel’s eyes look upon us from above the stars
They see our hands like ivy branches woven together
Thine fingers flow like a river over thou arm wound
I feel the thine branded heart swell
Silent love. Silent armour.
Under sheepskin cover we become valleys
In silence we traces the stars out the window
The power of the waves we feel
So thine heart wrapped in a palm leaf for thou
thine lips printed on thou noble breast
thine lips carved out perfectly amongst the stone
yet the statue can’t carve either the expression of thine love or thine essense
The warmth of our bodies infuse together like a potion of herbs
Our bodies curl up into one ball.
Together our life will be spun. 

this is a poem that has been posted up on here earlier but it has been edited a lot and well i can say that i much prefer the new version. Thank you for reading it. any feedback you can give me is great. thank you again.  


In the light of the moon
I see the beauty of your darkness
I watch the moving curves of your body
How you move across the room with a softness

I see the shadow of you lips on the mirror
The way your shirt hangs around you ridged shoulders
The movement of your chest is deep and heavy

I’m lying in bed –
wanting to make all your anxieties fade
to breath calmness into your eyes

I see your eyelids furiously flicker
and I want to brush them silently
your sanity is precious to me
I would absorb what you tell me
with my soul

your scent would stir me awake
if I knew the intimacy of my body
would give you comfort I would do it

anyway the shadow of you lips is imprinted on me
I imagine having my knee-socked legs around your waist
and how my body would be opposite yours
our lips emerging from a sinking kiss

I’m spread myself along my side of the bed
and you on yours
I would caress your radiating aura
my eyes a painting would be
where you would decipher the elements

the power of your aura I feel against
the lace that is my skin
my skin responds in equal measure

the lightness of my soul
would dissolve your worries away
and the shivers of your soul would evaporate
under the tranquillity of my presence

I invade your conscious realm
but then I extract myself from it footlessly and noiselessly
you don’t notice to remember
you are occupied by the beauty of calmness

my presence is like a dream now
but it will not flee from you
it will be here when your head
touches the pillow of our bed
and it will be here when here when
your eyes respond to the morning light

By Elena Kokonova

this is one of my newish poems and it has been added to my favourites list. hope you enjoy it. Do give me some feedback if you can.

Fragments of Scenes

Running water could be heard inside the foyer of the house
Up the twisting stair case going upwards into the Heavens
The magnificent curtains conceal the light, the room, the future
The scent of incense posses the room and seeps through my very soul
On the davenport the items await for me
The deck of cards on the right side
The runes on the left
The crystal globe in the center
A blank piece of paper, pot of ink by it and a dip pen
My leather gloves I take off
The candles I set alight
The mirror emulates the flame
The pearl rosary beads huddled together
A cutlass upon the embroidered rug
I put down my peppermint leaf tea
The cards I place in a celtic cross
They fall into place
I turn the cards around
See what is my destiny.
The moon, The world, High priestess,
The lovers reversed, The Chariot
Then in a diagonal line right next to them
The queen of wands, strength, The magician, The star
The rune I pick out is the Perth; mystery
I light the candle.
The flame ascends up
the wax drips onto the paper.
I feel like my body is burning at the stake,
but indeed I am not I am waltzing in a ballroom,
in the arms of manly figure – in a tight embrace
I drink my tea witness the transformation
of the leaves from one shape to another
and then the grand finally.
His onyx eyes are upon my diamond features
I see myself upon a stage
in a flash I see myself preform Juliet
then in a blur I am Sybil, then metamorphoses into Mina
He in seated in the Lord’s room at The Globe
Able to audre my dialogue, voice, pause.
He wears a waistcoat and a top hat.
I write meaningless words
creating beautiful art by
my own divine hand
Snapdragon flowers he gives to me
Exquisite and exotic they look, just like me, he says
Everything goes black
My heart drums hard
Then out the darkness images of a majestic estate,
a lush garden, a table set, a fireplace
a corridor, a bedroom race across my sign.
and then a bedroom, his wine coloured lips
contrasted against my opal ones.
He infects me with the desire to undress.
We fall into the well of love. We feast then retire to the bedroom.
My palm I open
follow the estuaries
along my hand
with my finger tip
The headline softly marked
Life line a single line
Heart line hard to trace
The Faith line present on both my palms.
The cutlass I sweep along
my colombino hand
the cardinal blood drips
Another century. Another me.
I am a lover of words. Logophile disease.
Those same onyx eyes and wine lips
He has a Glamorous scent and a novel voice
A passion for dancing, a passion for life
A free spirit in an oppressive world
Dressed in jeans, a loose T-shirt, a wistful smile.
He is in love with her words, her cherub soul,
enticing voice, the power she posses.
The candle blaze reflected in the mirror
Two lively spirits that are destined to end up together
Only he can light my heart up like he does, make my skin break out in flames
Just thinking about his touch flares up me up
The love and desire is raw and my flesh is awaiting for your magnetic touch
We are enchanted not like out of fairy tales, but in real life.
Our very fibers are interlinked. We are woven together since the dawn of time.
You don’t just speechlessly understand the philosophy of my heart, but my soul, the very core of my being.
You make me feel alive every day that I spent with you.
How can our love not be all mighty?

 By Elena Kokonova 

One of my favourite poems i have written. Hope that you enjoy it. Thank you for reading and i would appreciate some feedback :)

Our Bliss



                        Then they are

                        Me (and) my lovers


                                    Bodies (an) atom
                                    the strings of

                                    The heat of

                                    infusing ourbodies
                                    candle light

                                    The satire sounds
                                    out ourlips
                                    words wholeriddles


                                    My sweating bosom
                                    youhold and youwhisper

this is a poem inspired by E.E. Cummings collecton entitled Poetry of the Eye. I thought that would be something fun to try out and it was. hope that you figure out what it says and enjoy it :) thank you for reading.  

Making, Doing, Going

Like a lebkuchen cookie
I’m doughed to love you
and I can’t be re-dough

Learning something new
fascinated me how it comes so

How I would surprise you with
a gift of a scarf on Christmas day
when I’d wake up next to you
and you’d cuddle your snow girl

I would take you down to the country pub
where we would seat next to the fireplace
and gaze at each other through our glasses of ale
and I’d order for you – bangers and mash
a traditional English feast

Santa will bring us a joint gift
of the vampire dairies collection
so that under the rose patterned bed cover
we could lay under, snuggle and watch

Tiredness will overtake you
make you fall asleep
I’d switch it off
and lay my head onto your chest
hearing your body sleep
and listening to your thunder

I wouldn’t know what tomorrow brings
but then again neither do you
Equal grounds
But the thing is I’m not scared
because I believe in you
whole heartily I have no doubts
so I place my faith in you

I know there are many places
and there are many roads
and many paths and many hills
and severe weather and dryness
but I know that it will be two souls
on this openness that is life.

Not knowing, unsure and unguided
Having only the thought of each other
The faith and the fortune of each others presence.

By Elena Kokonova 

the title says it all really - a poem about all those things that you would do with your love. again it has a festive feel and i hope that you have enjoyed it. 

A Love Star

When midnight comes
I'd be your gift, under the Christmas tree
I would be wrapped in tissue, ribbons and bells in my hair.
The morning I would wait for – because you would come to
see the tree at the Rockfeller centre, where the lights would be shining
over your starry face and your coal shining eyes
I would be waiting to be collected, having spend the night alone with the tree
and not knowing when you would come but as always you turn up as you have said

Those beautiful charcoal chunks search and they get darker yet shinier
Before I know it – You are hugging me to your chest
I’m all decorated and festive for the jolly season
You slowly and softly caress my candy-can tissue coat
Your starry love guided you here tonight. It will guide us forever.

By Elena Kokonova

another poem about love - and this love poem is indeed linked to the festive season of Christmas. I had a wonderful time writing it and I hope you have a wonderful time reading it :) thank you 


I don’t obsess over you
because you love is a feeling
one can sink to the bottom and rise to the top
there’s that ecstasy, renewal and revival
this is one of those things that is even more
intimate and intangible because you are
even more powerless over yourself

Like me I’m been obsessing about what give me
I obsess about every crystal element
Obsessing what your hands, your arms and yours lips do
they have that intimacy with my body that is reckless

I don’t know whether it’s our own seduction that seduces us
without the warranty of our minds
as our lips are already a unity
where deep hues mix with lighter ones
and we are guided to the roof top
I want to come against the night
our obsessively raw lust is observed by the night
The stars are amused and delighted!

your feather fingers just collect my buttons
and then the pages flutter against the night
my shirt dress yawns openly and that’s when you
strip it off me freeing me from its confinement
gifting me under your sight a siren

with your eyes you rouse me
but you gaze holds me still yet
but your hands they obsess over me
as they observe my naked glow under the moon light
I with a look turn your clothes into simple rushes of wind

I love the creases of your skin onto the bones
and the fineness of your rippled surface
your wavy lips decide it’s time to devour me
I want to be devoured – every nerve wants it
so your lips they explore the extent of my tranquil body

my body is exhausted by the wait and it’s no longer patient
as my heat guides you over to my swollen orbs
and are ever so tender and your lips position themselves
right on peaks and my breath captures itself in motion
your lips move over my landscape plane and your tongue
traces that journey over me

my pleasure no longer awaits
as my pleasure has drowned me
and you begin to tend to it
with those knowing fingers
and they become glazed
with my desires
it’s no longer enough for your fingers
your lips are on my moist shell
and your lips make slight contact
then it’s a full one
you are against me –
feeling all those things that need to be felt
I ooze delight like a slight spring fountain

then when my whole body is tensed
by that need to be craved
your tongue once again awakens my orbs
and the peaks are hot icicles
my scent is perfection against your nostrils
its your humid tip that’ enjoys my outer shell

a movement, a gliding, a sweet joining
it becomes irreversible deep soulful desire
where you inside my shell
and I invite you to sail further
how can you say no to the arching sea goddess
further you sail into me and I experience
such hot pleasurable waves
that I can’t help but lust more of you
further you venture where I myself get lost
and your fingers come again onto my orbs
with lust you fill them and the tips call to you
as you give them what they want
we both get relief from our obsessions

By Elena Kokonova 

a poem about ones desires and obsessions. hope that you enjoy it :)

Instinct of Love

You probed by love with your words and your wistful eyes
So I wondered if you wanted to probe my love
with your tongue so you could tell me if it tasted sweet
or bitter?

You drank in my beautiful words and my voice bounced off
your petal palms and your eyes they like spectres radiated the different colours of my words, my tone and my lips into the beyond of thoughts

The idea was born in your heart
which beats, beats and beats away into the wind
and then into my eyes and then mouth

You taste the canvas of my body
then you taste the essence of my love
and tell me that my love had the flavour
of a hundred years old reserved wine

While you tasted me while my thoughts bleed
along with my desire
I was afraid it would stain you

When the drop of blood that contained my love
fell upon your breast and did not even cause
a wonder in your thoughts

Yet my thoughts had left me
And there was just the instinct of emotion
that ran into my lips

My eyes inflamed with your words
And my mind haunted with want of you
Your lips carve out your desire onto me
While I bleed onto you

My love murmurs and causes you to have immortal desire
And me what can I say when I am Aphrodite
I wonder how your tongue understood the physiology of my desire
And you would not undress me from it for a long time

The apparition of your lips on me I always have
And then minute you chain your lips with mine
It is no longer an illusion
You not only read my thoughts but you create them

By Elena Kokonova

a poem that intertwines love and desires. hope that you enjoy it. 


It is when we girls go against the stereotype
When a girl picks up a hammer,
doesn’t want to wear pretty frilly dresses,
when she doesn’t aim for the spastic and plastic look.
If she subscribes to playboy and look at girls
It doesn’t make her a lesbian!
If she doesn’t want to wear make up and short skirts
It doesn’t make her a prude
If she choices not to have sex that’s her own choice
And if she wants t have a string of one night stands or sext
It doesn’t make her a slapper
If she doesn’t like flowers and new shoes
It doesn’t make she is ‘less feminine’
When she eats chocolates, cake, ice cream, burgers and pie
If doesn’t make her a pig it just means she is human
When she doesn’t want to go out but wants to read a book
It doesn’t make her unsocial
When she wants to dress up and wants to play tease
It doesn’t make her abnormal
When she gets upset or cries
It doesn’t make her unreasonable,
irrational – it just means she has a heart
When she is honest
It doesn’t make a jealous bitch!
Just think about all those things
Before you start to judge

By Elena Kokonova

a poem about judging and how we have to be more open about new things not just think about people under the light of stereotypes. 

I hope you enjoy it :)


Could it be knitted in our jumpers?
or rather mechanically weaved through our rugs?

Is it coming out the factory chimneys
or in the street lamps that blind our eyes at night
maybe its in the blocks snagged in the pavement
or in the aura of the moon

Is it outside our window or in our lawn?
Maybe it’s in the kitchen in the cookie jar
Or maybe it’s rolled up in your cigges or rather in our lungs

One a penny two penny goes the rhyme
just like the rhyme of the little coins inside our pocket

Wouldn’t you think it’s in the history books
It doesn’t seem to be there, except if, it’s hiding in between the letters
Or maybe it’s trapped in a bottle of sparkling water

Maybe it’s pleated in your little girl’s plats
or written across your sons T-shirt
or rather at the bottom of your shoes?
It is in the beer we drink or lodged in our spine?
Maybe it’s wedged in between our teeth
or it’s invaded our heart

The answer is simple…

It’s always been growing inside our heart
whether we knew it or not
we are simple people
class politics is everything
in this life of ours!

By Elena Kokonova

this is one of my political poems. i hope you have enjoyed it. 

Under the Sky

one of my newest poems about love.  it has a winter feel to it. it borders on pathetic fallacy.

I feel like I'm going to melt

My button eyes can't close
I feel cold and snowy
Under this weather
I want to have a shelter
To be under a roof
And place my scarf aside
with my wooly gloves
Would be lovely to
have somebody to share
my snowy time with
but instead I'm alone
however I know
that you will get here one day
now I just look at the snowed
mountain waiting who are waiting for more
just as I'm waiting for you 
By Elena Kokonova

hope that you enjoy it.

Monday, 8 October 2012

Bleeding - An anti-shark fining poem

This is a poem that deals with the very real and serious issue of shark finning. it's a poem that shows the suffering of the shark and the pointlessness of it's death. It's a sad poem but it's supposed to raise awareness.

 Please make a pledge against this on the following site;



At the bottom of the ocean
Voiceless and defenseless
All of your body is dead weight now
Your just wait for the moment
when the light in your eyes dies away
The pain you want to swim away from
But you can’t!
No scream of hurt can come out your lungs
You drown in your own agony
During your last moments of your life
One of the most sacred part of you, you have lost
Your fins to the fishermen they are a commodity
To you they are your life
There wasn’t much of a life
You against knives
Like from a water fountain your blood gushed out
If you had been able to make tears they would have been endless

In God’s imagination you were created
In freedom born
Dying at the hand of cruelty

– to satisfy some stupid illogical greedy need
Your life is wasted away on a bowl of soup
It’s eaten and it’s gone – just like that!
It’s long forgotten about once the bowl is empty

While you died mangled in blood
White wild eyes open at the sea bed! 

Thursday, 4 October 2012

A poem for the find Ollie campaign - Heartful

This is a poem about Ollie the Chihuahua who has been stolen. His owner Tae was walking him on the 29th August 2012 when he has stolen from her and he is missing. 3 men, who also had a lady, with a small child, took him. They snatched Ollie from Tae and run over Tae’s foot. 

This is Ollie's youtube appeal - . 

I have written this poem to help get Ollie back home to his family.


I might have come in a box
but once the box was opened
so was my heart
Tae was the receiver of the box
and also of my heart

As I grew to know Tae
We became attached
I grew and she grew – we grew together
Not a moment do I like to spend away from her
At the waking minute I look to se if Tae’s awake
She is my sister and my best friend

One day we went on a walk
I was just strolling along
When 3 bad man took me from Tae
They took me away!

I wanted to go back to Tae


Please help find me!
I want to get back to my family!
Tae I know you are worried  I'm worried too!
People please look out for me!
Without your help I may never get home!
Help me get home!

By Elena Kokonova, who owns the copyright.

Thursday, 28 June 2012

Sea Sorcery

His hands go through my river body
and his lips capture the pattern of the water
and he kisses my waterfall neck. 
So effortlessly his seaweed hands are embedded in me
The crystal like deeds on my seabed lips
and he pick out these perils with his tongue.
My eyes tinted by the shadow of the lark’s wings
flapping in the wind and my watery scales he touches with his eyes
that shine like melting dark chocolate solids and the stone becomes colder
shining pearly hair dipped in the worldly mouth of the sea
the sea waves wooed me and that was my world in which I was sea Goddess
and he could definitely not be a mortal with his swooning voice and oyster eyes
that he opened the coffin of my soul and let the stormy love waves lash at him and for a
moment he did not try escape the tide that scooped he in the realm of my love

A Ring

A simple concept yet so complex
somehow a symbol devoid of meaning
just something to show you are owned
It assumedly legitimises your love
yet its not doesn’t create love
When you give you hand it doesn’t mean
that you give your heart
I remain the keeper of the cooper key!

My earthly beauty you can see but my soul you can’t
The soul that when brushed with the nettle ring stings
My pearly face doesn’t show a rose of this even to the artist
Who wants to capture my beauty but can’t!
Simply because he is granted my beauty in those hours
But then my beauty fleets away from him
My beauty belongs to me – a ring can’t change that
Just because I spin my ruffle red coloured gown has no meaning – not to me.

My love could not be jarred because with him I was the jar
I took his signs, bottled them up and threw them into the Thames
it sinks into the river not into my heart
My heart is pressed into the passage of my book
that he can’t touch and it makes me laugh
Because in your eyes I had a lover too
Rubies reflected my expression
My tinted expression is its greatest to me 
Nobody can see it.

My portrait I took down from the wall
as I said my beauty belonged to me
so off it went with my luggage into the cart
and into my very own palace!

The ring was sold and I took the money.
Now it’s laughable that around his grave nettle would grow
as his love ring had sting me
In death he isn’t free because he could never gain me

I hold my tea parties without company
tons of ladies would love to accompany me
yet I rather be alone not with my frocks but
my tittle, my household, my leisure books and my queen Spaniel!

By Elena Kokonova

Monday, 25 June 2012

Soul Sisters Book Review

Light-years better than the Twilight Saga series. Characters with a real personality and not only this but also ones that each of us can relate too. Another thing I must highlight is the fact that Eldridge doesn’t make her characters fit the mould but rather opens up a new realm – coloured characters and this is a new/fresh and fantastic thing to see hero’s and heroine’s with a different backgrounds to the otherwise typical and over-represented characters.

The journey the characters and that we the reader go through isn’t a light everything is going to be alright one. There is a real serious threat at the core of this novel, there is real fear and raw emotions/passions – strain underlining the feelings of the character which very precisely border on what real life emotions are like. Eldridge does don’t shy away from exposing what is at the heart of her characters whether that is their lust/desire, their anger or the everyday battle that takes place within their soul and the transgression between these is an eloquently one.

A novel with a gripping plot and the 2 interlinked time periods create tension and mystery. It stirs up our emotions and really makes us feel. There are moments that parallel with real life situations and emotions throughout this book which will really move you, you have to be a rock for it not to do so! I’d hardly ever cry at a book but there were points I was crying on the inside– I’m not going to include any spoilers. There were moments when my heart panged gleefully with joy and when my heart shrivelled with confusion, pain and anger. Moments of happiness and sadness are mixed together in a blending pot; moments where emotions spill into one another and just like in Shakespeare’s play’s a tense scene is followed by a anti-tension/comic scene – however there is no comedy here!

Let me tell you this before hand readers – you can’t run away from that fact that there is A LOT of tensio in this novel whether it is in that scenario of life vs death, sisterhood or love. I wanted both to get to the end to find out what happens and at the same time I didn’t want it to end because I would have to part with the character which I had become attached to and fallen in love with.  

Furthermore, the bound that exists between the sisters is a powerful one – that really strikes the reader at the core of the heart. I know it did this to me. I was fascinated at how real their relationship was and how the novel reveals to us the very building blocks of this and the way it moves us through their plight/journey as sisters.

The powerful force of conflict that exists is something that I can’t describe to you because it is something you have to personally experience by yourself. Consider yourselves warned when I say that it will consume you – it will split you - on who to root for, who to hate and who to aim your anger/frustration at. You will struggle to pick whose side you will be on! 

If you don’t read this novel then you are missing on a really fantastic read and that’s a real shame because something like this magnificent master piece shouldn’t be ignored/side-lined for the typical, main stream,hyped-up works of vampire fiction like the Twilight Series or The Vampire Dairies – I have read those yet this is simply in a league of its own.

Contemplations: An Anthology of Short Fiction & Poetry

When I got Contemplations I didn’t have any before hand presumption – yes I knew it was a collection of poetry and short fiction but I didn’t know anything beyond that and well I’m not going to reveal any spoilers to all those reading this review because reading without knowing is really a great experience!

L.M. Stull doesn’t shy way from emotion and isn’t afraid to show the darkness that exists in everyday life. Don’t get the impression that this is a pessimistic book because it isn’t – it just reflects those daily struggles that nobody talks about. Stull does talk about those struggles– and this is a truly great thing to see because let’s face it even if those things aren’t talked about those it doesn’t make them any less true or less of a reality and it definitely doesn’t make them any better. Rather we face the reality than ignore it and be un-aware of it.

There were moments when I wanted to cry and moments when I was on the edge of my seat. In ‘A Second Chance’ the tense situation really was on an edge of a knife, things could have gone either away, but it was like walking on a rope to discovere whether there is a resolution or everything crashes in pieces. It’s about that the significance of time and the discovery of ones emotions but also what to do with those emotions as well as how to express them. This isn’t simply a story about a situations and it’s resolution – its much more complex than that its about the people involved, the discovery of what one wants and the journey. The characters made a lasting impression on me and I thought about them after I had finished reading. Another thing is that that there is a moral to the story – not the kind of moral of what is right or wrong but the moral of teaching the reader and making them aware.

I absolutely loved ‘The Bus’ I thought that the contrast of characters was fantastic – I really was attached to the characters and I emphasised with them as well as the situations they were in. There wasn’t a trace of something that I would call hyper-reality. Characterization was just amazing and the characters have real heart. There was such raw intense emotion here my tears where on the brink. There was no cliché ending here and this was also the case with the rest of the short fiction.

The poems are like a small breath of an emotion and we connect it. There is no soppy emotion here and that’s a great thing to see. There is a real essence of emotion/feeling and also realness – it doesn’t present false situations/scenarios but things that we have all experienced at one point in our lives. Stull presents these in a simple way even though they are very complex emotions and by saying simple I don’t mean that they aren’t emotional or powerful just expressed in a very linear straight away. I would love to see some of the short story themes in a poem – it would be interesting to see how Stull would present such themes in a poetic form.

Stull doesn’t judge – she just shows us reality and although there is grimness in the reality she doesn’t make us lose hope in humanity or in life. Even though there may not be happy endings always that’s life and that’s what Stull wants to present us – life isn’t one of those TV comedies. She still manages to present hope and tenderness at the same time. Stull makes us treasure plus value what we have because some people have never known happiness and simply aren’t destined to either.

You potential readers out there I highly recommend Stull work, she isn’t a writer to be overlooked and you are really missing out if you don’t read this collection – the stories will leave you wanting more and wondering about the characters lives. Get the book for yourself and also discover yourself along the way. You wouldn’t be disappointed at all! The price is a mere nothing compared to what an enjoyable experience it is reading this collection. 

I’m now a fan of Stull and will want to get more of her work.