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head's in the clouds

Canada

Hello, fellow writer, My name is Zee. I haven't always been as crazy as I am now about writing but I'm glad it found me. I'm a huge geek (hehe) from Doctor Who to The Lord of The Rings. I'm friendly and I swear I'm not scary. Don't be shy and say hi.

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Every single one of you on here is an amazing writer and have such great potential.This is our year to shine. If there is any work you want reviewed or just read, just ask. I'll try my hardest to make sure I do it as quickly as possible. I hope everyone is having a great day, wherever you are. : )

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head's in the clouds (Canada) published:

Wild "Wild World" - Bastille Album Review

PROMPT: Album Review Competition

As the new year has rolled in, we often take to looking back the previous year. More often than not these days we tend to find many things we wish we could ignore, that we want to ignore. From the media to the emotions and losses we experience; the world is truly wild. Bastille's album, Wild World, is a reflection of the past, present and future. Many of us often turn to music as an escape, however while listening to...

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Published Work

Album Review Competition

Wild "Wild World" - Bastille Album Review

As the new year has rolled in, we often take to looking back the previous year. More often than not these days we tend to find many things we wish we could ignore, that we want to ignore. From the media to the emotions and losses we experience; the world is truly wild. Bastille's album, Wild World, is a reflection of the past, present and future. Many of us often turn to music as an escape, however while listening to each song on this album I find myself having to face the reality of our world. Each song shifts in genre from rock to soul and hip-hop however what makes each song more powerful is the ranging vocals of the frontman, Dan Smith. What I admire most about the bands new album is how they blanket each song, each story behind beautiful music. In the first track on their new album, Good Grief, we first hear a women's voice, sampled...

Ambiguity

“Your word is ambiguity.”

A deep gulp was echoed through the theatre,

“Please state the origin and use it in a sentence.” 

“The origin is from latin, first being used in the 15th century. An example of a sentence would be , I am not sure where I stand, but I know I am anxious to shake this ambiguity.” 

The boy huffed into the microphone, his eyes closed 

scanning, analyzing 

For the spelling 

He stumbled upon something else 

A memory..

“Jeez,” Micheal, his brother huffed, but his tone seems different,

“you’re so annoying.”

He was confused, Micheal didn’t sound annoyed and his smile didn’t seem to replicate his words

Was he really annoyed or simply being playful
The boy smiled, 

Micheal was just being ambiguous

“Ambiguity,  a m b i,” he paused unsure of himself.

He looked up, and saw his brother Micheal , his tongue stuck out and thumbs facing downwards

The boy almost frowned but he noticed Micheals...

Ten Words to You

Home

where the winds, crashing waves, and shining stars leads me.

Seasonal Lover

Snow flakes fall onto your eyelashes 

They resemble stars sleeping on a deep lovely night 

Melting into the heat of your body

Water sleeps on your eyelashes 

The morning dew after a spring rain 

Your eyes open

Warmth courses through 

My bones no longer ache

Summer had come

Burning up the pain

You twirl in a small circle 

The water falls

It flutters to the ground

Like leaves in autumn 

You smile 

I am blinded

It’s okay

I’ve already seen the world 

Novel Writing Competition

The Wishmaker And The Dreamer Excerpt: The Reaper's Door


The day had begun as always; my father, a short man, who look as if he was made of only skin and bone, had woken us up with a hoarse shout. 

“Wake, you ungrateful swines.”

As always I had groaned, silently cursing him and the floor I slept on. It left my bones aching. It was common for us, me, my father and my brother, Tito, to try our hardest to make the rags we called clothes look appealing. We would head out to the Aswad markets. There we would sell “ancient” stones, trinkets and weapons. I was ashamed to say the least. But to survive the harsh heat of the sun and the dryness of our desert land, one had to do whatever it took to live. But how badly would one want to live, if it meant living like a coward? I threw my head back, hitting the floorboards with a large thud. It was a question I did...

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Imaginary Friend

Wonder sparked curious eyes
searching for treasure
fighting off bandits
In the backyard
they were always together 

Hand in hand they ran 
Narrowly escaping  
A man with a gruff beard 
yet he still caught them 
“Grow up young man, grow up”

Silence washed over
They could not speak 
So they took to playing cards 
In the closet
Till it became too small

The days were no longer measured in hours
They only had minutes 
But the deck of cards seemed to be lost 
Or hidden 
And their hope with it

They sat on the deck 
Watching the rain fall 
Pitter patter, pitter patter 
Till the rain stopped
They only had seconds

A man sat on the steps
Watching the rain fall, a deck of cards in his hands 
When he looked to his left 
There was no one there 
“Why do I feel so sad?”

Novel Writing Competition

The Wishmaker And The Dreamer Excerpt: The Reaper's Door


The day had begun as always; my father, a short man, who look as if he was made of only skin and bone, had woken us up with a hoarse shout.

“Wake you ungrateful swines.”

As always I had groaned, silently cursing him and the floor I slept on for leaving my bones aching. It was common for us, me, my father and my brother, Tota, to try our hardest to make the rags we called clothes look appealing. We would head out to the Aswad (black) markets. There we would sell “ancient” stones, trinkets and weapons. I was ashamed to say the least. But to survive the harsh heat of the sun and the dryness of our desert land, one had to do whatever it took to live. But how badly would one want to live, if it meant living like a coward? I threw my head back, hitting the floor boards with a large thud. It wasn’t...

Colours of The World


souls are 
the turquoise skies 

souls are
the green of the spring grass 

souls are
the vibrant purples of lavender flowers

souls are
the velvet blue that blankets the deep dark night

souls are
the gravity that pull the tides, gentle soft waves, to raging storms

souls are 
the pavement of stars in the night, the ones we look up with heartfelt, tear stained eyes.

souls are 
the beauty of our waking days, a constant reminder that they are never lost​, each one so different, so important 

souls are 
me and you,
we'll paint the universe as they did, one day

Ghost

She's in my dreams 
Her silent laughs 
throwing her head back  
A bright smile  
Lighting up the stars 
 
My heart rips at the seams just at the thought  
I'll never see her again 
If so 
Only through screens  
If so  
Only through miles  
 
I told her that I loved her  
A little too late 
I told her that I'll miss her  
But she had already gone away 
 
I hear her voice in the wind 
I see her hazelnut eyes in the twirling of autumn leaves  
as they fall to the ground 
I haven't come to terms 
I'm still holding on to hope 
 
The hope that maybe  
She misses me just as I do her 
That she loves me with every inch of her bones 
That she sees me as more than a friend 
A stranger, she might just see again 
 
She haunts my days
Peppermint burns my nostrils  
Piercing yet soft eyes tear my heart 
It's not real 
I say  
And I'm right 
She is only but a memory 
A memory of what had been  
A hope of what will never be 

I'm holding...

Truths and Untruths

Impractical Wishes by an Impractical Person

I wish 
That my voice was loud 
so that I could be heard 
Through the screaming 
and the shouting 
in my head

I could be strong 
like you 
like the world 
and hold on 

I could ignore 
the constant pang of worry 
in my chest 
the tears that threaten to fall
and the
beating of my heart

I was loved by 
the one i fell in love with 
that i had more than 
a single phone call 
and 
miles of straight road


I was invisible 
so that 
i wouldn't feel 
so bad
when the world ignores 
me

that i gain 
more than 
i lose
 

Colours of The World

souls are
trapped in a cage 

souls are 
the turquoise skies 

souls are
the green of the spring grass 

souls are
the vibrant purples of lavender flowers

souls are
the velvet blue that blankets the deep dark night

souls are 
the beauty of our waking days, a constant reminder that they are never lost
 

A Wallet, A Photograph and An Empty Shoebox


Looking at the monochrome photograph, usually kept neatly tucked in a wallet, she could feel tears threatening to spill. A dilapidated wallet, a ruined photograph, and an empty shoebox tucked beneath her bed; those are all that she has left.

The wallet made her feel as if she had a physical part of him with her, like he never left. He used to carry it everywhere he went and it meant so much to him. His father had given it to him, before he had gone to war himself. And now her husband had left it to her, before he went to war. Just like his father he never came back. She screamed for him to keep it, wanting nothing more than him home. Other women would call her lucky, her husband was allowed peace, while the others spent their waking day tormented by what they saw, by what they had done. She didn’t feel so lucky. 

The photo...

Melancholy Ink

The pages were
blank  
so
the pen wept
tears of
black
ribbon 
ink
 

Hollow Tune

The steady beat of my heart
the pitter patter of rain as if falls
short breaths 
heavy sighs 
humming bird songs
echoing winds 
these are
the
hollow tunes 
that remind me of you

On the Last Day of the World

With My Last Breath

On the last day of the world 
I will walk 
till my feet ache
I  will fall
to the shaking ground 
only then will i look up 
at the stars
their gentle light 
pulsing goodbye 
and with my last breath 
I whisper 
thank you


 

Why I Write

I Write

I write to save myself from drowning in a sea of thoughts. To save my soul from restlessness. To give myself what I believe I don't deserve. Peace. Maybe that's why I don't do it so much anymore.

Names for Nature

The Place The World Stands Still

The day stretched long and miserable. The world was beginning to fade into darkness and the sky was colored in a soothing orange that dimmed into a deep purple. School had ended hours before but only now was I walking back home. My eyes landed on the sidewalk, wanting nothing more than to pretend I couldn't hear the heavy beat of my heart, that I couldn't feel my eyes burning. The gray concrete made me feel dull, numbing the world around me. I hadn't seemed to notice that I had stopped walking. The burning sensation in my neck forced me to recline my head. I looked up and hidden behind leafless trees was a pavilion. It was cracked and dwindled, like me. 

I had climbed up the forgotten pathway, my breath quickening. I knew that I would be more than late coming home but I felt inclined to explore. The pathway began to fade and I was left with large...

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17 Likes from Others

Seasonal Lover

Liked by 6 people

Reviews!!

Liked by 5 people

Ambiguity

Liked by 1 person

Home

Liked by 1 person

With My Last Breath

Liked by 2 people

Ghost

Liked by 3 people

Colours of The World

Liked by 4 people

Imaginary Friend

Liked by 3 people

Melancholy Ink

Liked by 4 people

Colours of The World

Liked by 2 people

Hollow Tune

Liked by 1 person

I Write

Liked by 1 person

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