This Is Me

With white ribbons in her hair And black shoes upon her feet, She danced to love graceful Under masculine heat.   Being one lost in love, And love lost in one, She nuzzled his neck and  Kissed him to belong…   With bracelets so bright Under disco light shine, Scarlet spotted him close, Her heart out of time.   Falling then hard, Then Falling so strong… She found that love witnessed Was love once then gone.   Then after a moment, She saw a lifetime Realisation a thief, Love being the crime.   She found sooner then, how Love lingers in time, She stole him in life But she lost him In rhyme.   Boneata Bell

Can you risk losing Something so beautiful? When beauty is the Ruler of the world? When a face depicting many fears Can portray so many Delicate lines? And time With no other option Can steel it so easily Away from you? So as you love her, not enough, Can you really risk Losing something so beautiful? Written for #WW Boneata Bell

Your embrace Sends me to the moon. Your stare transfixes me To the stars. And your kiss releases The gravity Beneath My Feet. Your smile Is the shining sun. Your scent Makes my heartbeat run. And your love releases The black Within My Dreams. Boneata Bell Written for WW 27/11/2013

If now you wonder what You meant to me, You meant nothing. If you now wonder what we Had between us then, It was nothing. If now you wonder what it Was that kept me crawling back To the devil? It was terror. If now you wonder what We had then I'm telling You that we had nothing. If now you wonder where I am, I'm nowhere. And you are nothing. Boneata Bell Written for #WW

I met you Too late, after Many nights crying And wrists left bleeding, I met You too late before I Realised the real Image of love And hate. I met you, Too late, after Meeting her, Too soon. Boneata Bell Written for #WW November 13th 2013

It fizzed with a sparkle as bright as Christmas night. And a flare so spectacular the sky looked alight. And it rose to an elegant glitter and shimmer- With a scent of roasted chestnuts Dazzle and dimmer! Between one hand in mine - One heart - Now entwined! Under blankets of silk, Under stars resting still. The firework, Took flight. It shone with a glow as delicate as Falling snow. And a breath so deadly the Sound stole the night. And it screamed to a tearful hymn Almost king, With a scent of burning wood beams, Crackle and sing! Between two eyes in meeting, One pulse - Still beating! Under colours of dream, Under flames flying high, The firework, Took flight. It flew with a weight as unsteady as Volcanic eruption. And a shimmer so addictive the sight scarred the mind. And it swam to a dive entwined Within sea- With a life so metallic the sight Now bothering me! Between palm to palm - Two hearts sweet calm! Under blankets of black, Under ink dri...

'My pumpkin!' He howled with an elegant smirk, 'Come trespass my graveyard and there we shall lurk, With darkness upon us we're bound to see light, From children with tea lights, we'll give them a fright! My face with its smile of razor sharp teeth- Is bound to make mortals wither and weep'. 'Come now, my pumpkin', he spoke without sound, Causing blood to start pulsing and head now to pound, To a rhythm that Casper once dared to achieve That a non believing dreamer now then will believe! ''My eyes now so hollow and brain on the floor, Not in one piece but I've seen you before!' 'Dear pumpkin', he screamed with a voice of sweet calm, 'Be my accomplish, you'll come to no harm!' With a tear so hesitant, head ready to protest, He squealed with delight that I'd just passed his test. My own eyes now hollow and blood bleeding dry, A tear now marking my very last cry. 'My pumpkin,' he laughed ...

The chapter began, As any chapter be. A lava dipped in purple silk, And angels wrapped in diamond thread. The circle pulled me downwards then, For that, I blame the nightingale. The story played, With intricate detail, A liquid floating bubble high, And glass pupils glazed into her head Deep within her tale, she said; 'For that, I thank the nightingale'. The middle scene, And smile bright. A cut between both reality And two swans of silver taking flight. The lake then forced their fatal parting For that, I blame the bird of song. For that, I blame my nightingale. The end announced, With tears bleeding, A black petrol scene of pain proceeding, And sickness is a form of love. In which I take the blame. Silence is abusing me. My heartbreak is amusing me. For that, I kill the music beat, For that, I miss my nightingale. The end unknown, With time so quick and heaving in my chest So sick,  I stand with extra carefree strength, And fall wi...

WARNING: [This is not about what you think it is about!] Fun little piece. He caught my eye because he wore this shining green coat of armour. He stood like a gentleman, or suited security guard, and there within that spontaneous moment, he stole my virgin heart. I hit his breaks and we paused momentarily in the September early darkness. He took the whip and obediently there we sat in eerie peace, Almost as if he could feel my needs. Speed now, to the scent of a perfumed masculinity with an extra passenger, and loving kiss. He saw it all and heard my wish, First man growled a hesitant roar, Second graced a smile I had Never Seen Before. On route with nervous disposition linked To my challenging blacked Out back glasses and elegant teddy bear carrying the trace Of such good girl behaviour. In all honesty, I'd never seen a man like him before. And I didn't think we'd get very far, Until we did. He was my first. Christopher-Jay - My very...

It took me over a year to pass my driving test. In between I failed a good three too. I never really thought that I would be able to drive; I wanted to do it, for the freedom to let go and venture into the world that we live in, but I didn't think it would happen. So when I passed a few months ago, it took me weeks before it sunk in. I remember looking at my pass certificate several times, putting it away, getting it back out - it was a dream. Driving is easy for some people, they fly through it, pass and never look back, but for me it was a tough, long, emotional and tiring road. But I did it. I bought my first car a couple of weeks ago. With so many months off the road I was terrified about getting back in the car, but I forced myself - I knew that I had to do it, I mean, it took me so much effort to pass, I couldn't let it all go. So on the Thursday I bought the car, on the Saturday morning I insured the car and on the Saturday afternoon I was out driving the car, with ...

I observed the conversation between two women regarding their friend, they planned to leave the nightclub before she returned from the toilet. I saw her crying alone, an hour later. I observed the fighting between two men, one said the other was giving him ‘funny looks’ and later he laid almost lifeless on the floor with a skull so caved in that he looked like he had been hit by a car, whilst women screamed in front of him. I finally observed one family split in two between misunderstandings with children’s heads turning from one to the other. And then I noticed the family pet; Sat silently in the corner. Betraying none. And trusting all. With this picture running through my mind and a beautiful puppy playing carelessly by my feet and brightening my darkest days, I wonder only how anybody could receive only a minimum sentence for harming such a beautiful creature. Before brushing away the tears in my eyes I decide that abusers should receive the same trea...

You could see blades deep Inside my eyes, as my memories Stained the scales of my heart. You did not part With a smile of syrup gold instead You lingered to observe My tired mind. You could see the forbidden Glitter falling with the strong Desire of a marriage bed, Deep inside my desperate head, Then sunk your fingers in, My skin, you watched me lose and watched me win. You were aware of my Longing for commitment between Knives and swords You did ignore, my only dream, And gave me everything. Until you gave me then your core, I gave up then in Fairy tales. And learnt then, not a lesson more. By Boneata Bell Written for #WW. Wednesday 25th September 2013 ©

Good morning, my darling, Will you be my mockingbird tonight? And leave me not with Darkened sight. Stay with me until I fly, Fly into your ocean eyes. Dear my darling, Will you today be my morning call, And let me rise to Heaven's stare, Place your hands within my heart, And palms between my curling hair. Sweet darling, Will you be my eagle tonight? And glide with not a Single fight. No goodbyes I accept tonight - Let me into your ocean eyes. For eternity, my darling, Will you be my goodnight kiss, And let me dream, To rainbow flames, Place your lips between my lips, And watch then how my heartbeat skips. So sweet dreams, darling, Will you be my shooting star? And leave me not And never far, Stay with me until I die, In heaven in your ocean eyes. Boneata Bell 2013

If you kiss me Glitter will miss Not a scrap of your heart. I'll draw you a map - A map of the stars. As long as you'll kiss me. With the ocean so blue And fish swimming deep, I'd promise to leap. To the mermaids' lair, And there I shall be. If you now will kiss me. With electric alive And a dream to describe, Fire is dead in the mind wide awake. In her wake she will fall, In her dreams he will be and Right there you will see, You will find, You will kiss me. Boneata Bell Written as he slept. On the 31st August 2013.  

Towards the light it flew With gentle pace. Towards the light it soared With complete grace. Towards the light it aimed, With silent sound, Towards the light it flung, And heartbeat pound. Towards the light it danced, With fluffy skin, Towards the light it bounced, Without sin. Towards the light it swung, With careless thought. Towards the light it dived, Only light it sought. Towards the light it swam, With ocean need, Towards the light it darted, With one seed. Towards my light it hit me, With no fear, Towards my beating heart, I observed the little dear. Towards the light it ventured, With no dark, Towards the light it brightened, The dark seed within my heart. Towards the window then she hit, The moth she fell, no obvious pain, I realised then that we should play A very similar game. And fly towards the light with aim, And never see the dark again. Boneata Bell.  

When I met you I looked at you, I never Really thought that you would be Mine. But I saw my baby in your eyes, And your fingers Entwined Between mine. And knew I had to Love you. I knew I’d have to make You mine. By Boneata Bell

If you measure it in seconds, Remember it in dream. If you have to shut your eyes, Remember then, to scream. If you measure it with magic, Remember then to speak. You are only at your strongest when you Think your feeling weak. 💕 Boneata Bell

If you count the leaves falling from a tree, that   then my dear is how much I shall love you. For    every year the leaves will return, and every year   they shall fall again. & my love will always return    to you, no matter how harsh the weather be, or   how pleasantly sun kissed it shall glow. Through   good and through torment. The roots   are strong, if you outwait the circumstances.        

One day you will know that the love I have given to you won’t be given away. The love I have given you has not been given easily, previously before. The love you see is burdened, It worries and ponders, It cries and it smiles. One day you will know that if you have it, You have it all. - Boneata Bell

Something different in you.    I won’t tell you any secrets, just a mass of facts, making you feel as if I am telling you something that nobody else knows. I will take you into my heart and my home, let you feel as if you are something else to me other than somebody that I just want to help. I will pick on your every movement, you cannot really do anything right because you are not the way I designed you. You buy me something and for a little while I am content. You can meet my family, but the moment they start praising you up, you are out. My life is different to yours, my job is to help you and to help others and to gain more qualifications than anybody else I know. If it doesn’t happen I will cry like a child in a locked room. Because I am the person who you never see. I am the person who pretends they like you to make you happy. And I am jealousy. The sick emotional response triggered by every little thing. And I am jealousy. And I will haunt you.

Close your eyes and see what could be, Feel each breath before it's set free. Whisper the truth if you mean it to be, A delicate whisper, between you and me. Close your eyes now, and see what is, Give then your heart, before you take his. Step strongly but faintly, before you fly. You need to glide low, before you glide high. Now open your eyes, and reach for his wings, Swim through blood with both your fins. Remember to see with two blind eyes, What you missed when magnified. Blink but don't miss, the moment you need, The flower needs water, To grow the seed.                                                -  Written by Boneata Bell  

Power. You either have it, or you don't. And that's the way it will always be. So, I'm sitting in my garden in England, it's a tourist area.            I'm imagining the beach to be over crowded so apt for the comfort of the garden. The back garden. It's private. The garden itself isn't small. Or large. It just, is. Just average. I've noticed the flowers my step-father planted last year have suddenly come to life given the glorious heat. Notice the emphasis here. Glorious . I am a sun worshiper. So, all sorts of colours line the garden, oranges and reds, separated by standing solar lights. This is my mother's little piece of involvement regarding the garden. My step-father is a gardener you see, so it's our job to stay away from it. They change colour, the solar lights that is. She likes colours, all sorts of colours bright beautiful colours, but if I had it my way they would be plain white. White is a classy colour and wouldn't cont...

Thirteen yards from destiny. Thirteen dreams stand tall. Thirteen years to seek a dream,  and watch it simply fall. Thirteen years for sun to set, upon a skin so white. Thirteen critics hold me up with thirteen wings of flight. I look upon a darkened hall,  my heartstring filled by doom. Thirteen tiny angels stand,  observing writing room. Thirteen hours away from death,  with velvet liquid by my bed Setting my mould by ten, I catch my desperate breath again. I drop onto my bedspread gold. And watch my thirteen dreams unfold. By Boneata (Rebecca) Bell. 2013  

She began to carve it, Like it would be the last one she Ever created. She began to love it, As if she would never, Love again. With silver strapped upon her back, She gave a noise of only calm, Inside she worked from dust 'till dawn, For future home as Eggs she held, Within her heart with mother's features, No smiles only instinct teacher. From the start, And from the heart. With strength they pushed inside her skin, But yet still she, Continued to spin. The rain fell then, with sound so known, An echo in her hole such home, Wooden shelter in the rain, She trembled then with desperate pain. As silver structure came to blow, The wind was bringing in the snow. All but watch was what she did, As deep inside she ran and hid. Unaware, yet unafraid, They sat there, so untouched- unscathed. A tear formed inside her brain, She shuddered but remained  still sane, For animal strength is nothing but stone, The stitches were ripped but mind was sewn. Sh...

One picture, keeps me alive. One life between The Dream And time. One step between both you And me. One life before you Set me free. One skin-to-skin Of desperate pose, You came then to my Solitude world. And that's then when you waved goodbye. And left me then, Alone to cry. Boneata Bell 2013 - It is just a quick thought, Before you kill me.

FIRST: the clothing. Twenty minutes later I have managed to pick the strangest combination of clothing available in my wardrobe. Next: the fight with the hair. I'll make it as high as I can, because I can. I am smiling at this. Finally: the make-up. A simple line won't do – I'll add some swirls and abstract colours. Then, I am ready. There is a fine line between admiration and disgust; a fine line between bullying and acceptance. I am happy to admit that my vintage-rock-chick-casual style creates some talk, but I am not happy to witness the number of young adults now too quiet to take the lead, because of the judgmental eyes of other people. Too many people play it safe and follow fashion. I would encourage something else completely. What you look like, the style you set, defines the person that you are. Appearance will always be a first impression. You cannot avoid this. Stand out. You should never be afraid to be who you are. On occasions I have noticed ...

I saw him hover then. With cautious footsteps By the stream.           ** I saw him learn With restless heart. To spread his wings, And catch his spark.          ** I saw him flee, Into the sky, I saw him weave And saw him fly.         ** Mother close Under the sun. His body rose And power spun.           ** With wings of grace, He then turned, And pulled me back, Into his world.         ** With seconds still, I saw his eyes, A bird of prey Take to the skies.          ** - Beyond the landscape portrait paint, I see the life  That we create.  - Beyond the charcoal pallet stain, He falters, but begins again.                                                  ...

'She looked then only at perfection sitting before her.                       She listened to his words, and almost believed them.                                   She listened to his heart, and almost felt it...                                          But then she remembered.                                          ...

What Makes Me You. I don't often explain my titles, they are a little mysterious piece of my work that allow the imagination to wonder, but I'll explain this one to you. People question how sometimes I dare to put such words to paper. I dare because I can. Although a lot of controversy may surround the issues I speak of, I may leave them dwindling in the air, allowing you to ask a question - and this is my aim. To leave you asking questions. What makes me you is that I too, am human. I can be a very naive human, and I am the first to admit this, my opinions will not always be correct. My work not always in perfect rhyme or be grammatically accurate, but I do my best. I was recently asked how it feels to place my life on the Internet for the world to see. My answer? It is a cylinder of continuously turning match-boxed woven replica of Hell. I hurt when you criticise me, yet I appreciate it too. My work consists of two different shelves, one fiction. One non-fiction. You wil...

I listened to the beat of notes And frankly kicked my feet To Jive. Only yesterday I sat in bed, Yet today I came, again, alive. I moved then to another tone, And swung across the ballroom floor. A thousand times I've moved this way, Yet never seen this life before. I rocked then to a rumba kiss, Closed my eyes and dreamt Of this. Pace increased and motion flared The Tango taught my soul to care. Full-sprint headfirst with nose so high, Quickstep so light that I Can fly. I head straight for the stars so red, And fall to natural rhythm instead. The final dance and I here I glide, With slower pace and Smile of pride Here and now I dance the Waltz, Exam conditions and confidence false. Ballroom and Latin beat my Brain. I stumble yet I start again. The music stops and then I see, The music lives Inside Of Me. By Boneata Bell 11/04/2013 You may or may not know that I am a Ballroom and Latin American dancer. I began dancing when I was about six ...

Picture This. There is you and me, standing still as strangers on a division so deadly to cross. There are electric flames running through it, but it is safe. To to touch it, we'll probably spark little ripples of static through our skin but you'll kiss me and it will feel like power running through our veins... Picture this. The drinks are pouring down our throats like the good-girl-bad-girl dreamy image you can place within your mind, because you are a man. 'Cos she can be that too, you see. You can do both when your heart beats faster. Picture this because the music is so loud you cannot hear my voice. I hate my voice. We could communicate, technology is a dream these days. Yet I wold rather stare up at you, you're taller than me and that. Is. perfect.... It is possible if I cannot hear what you are thinking. Picture this again. A swap of contact and the division snaps in two with only me and you. Alive in this all so crowded scenario. Picture this if you wa...

It would be something significant To live off the memory Of happiness. It would ease the strength From the happy heart, And in one stance, it then would part- Protection with a flame. It would allow something invisible Yet present dust, to slowly form - Barricade then, this fence of wire Call my love and be my squire! A clutch of angry tears form Without such fear - I then would Fall... away from Lower ground. It would distinguish both The metal guard and useless heart, With sentimental touch and soul. The highs and lows of Value dreams. I want much more, Than I have seen! Sometimes I wish I only could, Be satisfied with just memories. To meet someone and to smile, to have a perfect time and perfect rhythm. To want more of them, to want more of a gift to ask for more, you risk ruining perfection. But we'll always crave more. - Boneata Bell

SOCIETY has a problem . Children are waking up to newspapers open on the table baring breasts. The All Seeing Eye is certainly seeing all. Children and teenagers are growing up surrounded by "the perfect body". It is degrading and generally just unnecessary. I was thrilled recently to hear of the No More Page Three campaign regarding and surrounding a large national newspaper. The portrayed use of the female body is wrong. Women are not objects, and we certainly do not wish to be regarded in such a way. Newspapers have been producing texts for as long as we can remember. They circulate news and provide us with necessary information. Though why, I wonder, do perfectly wonderful admirable newspapers and magazines find the need to cheapen their product with "free breasts and eye candy"? A newspaper is for providing news, not for bringing children up in a world obsessed with the human body. The body is personal. We cannot avoid sharing our beliefs...

                         - Music Notes   You can enter a world of music. Let it become a part of your blood, let the lyrics overtake your soul and tie them delicately with spider silk around your heart. Or, you can let them drift through with nothing of a second thought. You can enter the atmosphere of a bar or a club, feel the magic of alcohol consuming the energy of your body, feel the heat of the moment and allow the treasures of instrumental and perfect voice rummage through your deepest memories, or you can let the moment pass you by.   Music is a magic within a dream. I have a particular love for local music though, and unusual music. It seems such a regular time-consuming task looking for such unique qualities. I admit I have a love of R’N’B. A love of rap. A love even of the ridiculous lyrics that somehow make a song popular – a natural ...

This is a piece of my own reporting. Events and names have been changed, and events are NOT true to life. This was purely a reporting exercise. Charles Francosa began the day by drinking alcohol as he always would. Since becoming an alcoholic three years ago his violence had increased and he began to feel violently angry towards his ex-girlfriend whom he had been separated from for only a short period of time. Francosa, currently living in the Grimsby area of North East Lincolnshire, had only that morning entered his local supermarket and purchased a knife, with what he claims to be ‘for only cooking intent’. That morning Charles Francosa purchased extra belongings including a packet of cigarettes and a bottle of vodka, as well as other violent weaponry, before sending his ex-girlfriend a number of abusive text messages. When he did not receive a response, he began to consume excessive amounts of alcohol and became apparently ‘un-responsive’ to the advice of family and frie...

I watched with every piece of my heart, Two world colliding to Create a piece Of Earth. The sun began shinning The rain fell and With it came a stench Of purity. So forth he placed then, The figure upon the sand - Gave it a breath in order of Speech and meaning. It was here I saw a loss. A gain, And a creation of absolute Insanity.                                                                    - Boneata Bell  

She is a memory to me. Alive with time, Rhythm and rhyme. Decoration in this bubble, Of mine.   She is creative. Her gold hands speak, Of meaning so deep. In a practical dream. She is to keep.   She is lightweight, feather-effect, With personal thought. A present bought. A gift sent. A message lent. Not borrowed.   She is vinyl, to all ages. And all times. She will not fall or knock, Down. She is strong in soul. She is the clock. Containing ‘timeless memories’.                                                                          ...

= + = If somebody decides they do not want to be with you, you are left facing two options. ONE: You can chase them. The consequence of this being either that they a) Finally understand the depth of your feelings for them and you 'get the guy', as it were or b) They feel that you are slightly obsessive and that you do not understand the meaning of the 'killer word', leave - further decreasing any chance of becoming a part of their life. ... And just as exciting as this option is, TWO: Accepting their decision and moving on. By taking this road they can then assume that either you are mature enough to accept defeat and accept that despite your pain you have strength enough to continue with your journey through the depths of Hell, whilst respecting their wishes... Or they will simply feel that you never really cared if you can disappear out of their life as quickly (or slowly) as you entered it. You are therefore not worth their time. You never really loved them. If ...