prose – A Wyld And Untamed Production

When fever strikes in the middle of a heatwave

It’s 3 am, a solitary figure in the warm embrace of lamplight, I listen to the persistent hum of the fan waging war against the oppressive Queensland heat.

Even the cats seek refuge on the cool bathroom tiles.

And as the arrow flies

The arrow flies, fills me in my heart, the sorrow dies, each time we part.
Samira Wyld

NEW POETRY UP NOW. Click here to read ARROW

With love from my 💜 to yours

Samira xo

Stay seXy, Stay wYld, Be free

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How do you like to read?

Hi lovers and wanderlusters

I have some exciting news to share with you about my upcoming short story ‘THE RED COAT’.

In these busy days of social media, work, home, life etc, how many of us find time to read?

My short story ‘THE RED COAT’ will be published online over the coming weeks, but before it is, I will feature it here as a serial for you, my loyal reader. Post in bite size chunks that you can read over your morning coffee.

However, this will mean you will have to tune in each week to find out what happens next 🙂 How does that sound to you?

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BTW… the artwork is just a mock up until I find the right design for the finished story 🙂

Let’s get started with an intro

‘Death comes up from behind you when you’re not looking, or you try to pretend it’s not happening as icy tendrils grip your breath choking you until there’s nothing left to breathe. Until your life gently, or violently slips away as you gasp your final breath. That white icy haze that escapes your mouth is not your last breath at all – it’s death sucking the last of your breath from your lungs like a deflated balloon.

And as the icy tendril escapes into the ether, your lips turn a shade of blue that can only be described as the blue lips of death, the paling colour of lifelessness.

How do I know all of this? I shouldn’t know any of this. I’m only eight years old.’

Please leave a comment below and let me know:

if you like this idea of serialising a short story in the written word, and possibly audio?
and will you be keen to tune in each week?

Stay seXy, Stay wYld, Be free

Peace out ☮

Samira xo

Your feedback is ALWAYS welcome, please share by leaving a comment below.

Please share on social media, and/or forward to a friend if you think this might serve them, or be something they will enjoy.

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Between two worlds

I’m sitting here sipping Green tea (well do I sip?) that sounds a bit too lady-like for me, so I guess I’m drinking green tea, while feeling somewhere stuck between two worlds.
The world that used to be…{read more}

Hi lovers and wanderlusters

I’m sitting here sipping Green tea (well do I sip?) that sounds a bit too lady-like for me, so I guess I’m drinking green tea, while feeling somewhere stuck between two worlds.

The world that used to be real, and the world that is now a dream, or some type of dystopian future, or simply as it should be. Does that sentence even make sense? I think not.

Who has read the book ‘The Talisman’ ~ Stephen King & Peter Straub? Let me know in the comments below.

If you have then you’ll understand the concept of parallel worlds, and dreams being our reality, and our reality being a dream. Which one are we living in now? I have no fucking idea, I just know I’m somewhere between this world, and that, and who knows what the End Game will be.

It could be a game changer or game over! Time will tell, but let’s not rest on our laurels. Stay alert. Stay informed, and stay awake.

….In the meantime, enjoy some scribblings 🙂

Scribbling #3102

Taken from A Collection of Poetry: A Wyld Love Note

I’m sitting on a park bench looking out to sea when I glance a tin dingy buried heavy into the mangroves, overgrown by grass and looking like its expiry date was long past. I took to pen and paper and began to write, and the following was what turned up on the page.

The very next day, I visited the same park and the tin dingy wasn’t there, as though it never existed. I wonder did it exist? I know what I saw inspired me to write the ‘Broken Canoe’ and I wonder if giving the tin dingy some life is all it needed to leave the tangled marsh and rebirth it somewhere new.

These are my random ‘muse-lings’ this word does not exist. I made it up 🙂

BROKEN CANOE

The broken canoe
Sits alone
Harboured by the old ravished mangroves,
Entangled into the vessel
That once was home,
To the bay,
Soft coloured sky of grey,
Rocking its life,
Back into the new,
Of a time when tales
at sea were true.

The broken canoe,
Abandoned,
Ripped inside the seams of grass,
That hold and pull,
Drawing down into the earth,
Trapped,
Broken and torn,
Weathered storms,
have changed its form
Once belonging to the sea,
Holding passengers that were free,
As they searched for life,
Rowing forward,
Forward and forward,
Rocking into waters,
Into Mother Nature,
and her daughters.

Its purpose all encompassing,
Not quite as magnificent
as the ship to shore,
But less is often more,
Its timber carved with intricate design
Of the indigenous artisans,
Who blessed it with love
For all that made the journey into the
heart of the kind.

The broken canoe,
Earth bound,
To nothing new,
adventurous or free,
Digs itself deeper,
Like the roots of the nearby tree,
Its ancestry lost,
Unnoticed,
Unloved and forgot,
Its timber slowly cracking
into a slow painful rot.

Now an artistic masterpiece,
The water coloured painting
Admired by many,
Not just a few,
brings life back to the broken canoe.

© 2020 Samira Wyld
#AWyldLoveNote

Scribbling #1035

THE MUSIC

Time claps
At the hands
Of an ace upon the stack
Of lack,
Being born and torn,
Into a number
An aggregate of foregoing’s
That permeate,
And irritate,
Between the houses,
Far beyond the sea,
I’m sure we’ll dance to the music,
That only belongs to you and me.

© 2020 Samira Wyld
#AWyldLoveNote

If you would like to revisit any of the poetry within these blog posts please click here

IN OTHER NEWS:

There is a NEW DJ mix up on mixcloud ‘The Hottest Aussie Mix 207’ for you all to enjoy.

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Remember to have notifications on because there is a blog post coming to Mixcloud very soon that you will not want to miss.

Stay seXy, Stay wYld, Be free

Peace out✌🏼

Samira xo

Remember to subscribe… to be notified of new content direct to your inbox

Your feedback is ALWAYS welcome, please share by leaving a comment below.

Please share on social media, and/or forward to a friend if you think this might serve them, or be something they will enjoy.

NEW album | Instagram | Twitter | Books | Youtube | Mixcloud

I’ve put my friends through hell

How many times have you believed you’ve lost friends because you’re going through a tough time and pushed them away?

Hi lovers and wanderlusters,

How many times have you believed you’ve lost friends because you’re going through a tough time and pushed them away?

I say I’ve put my friends through hell because conditioning has taught me by being vulnerable, open, raw and honest is WRONG and often punished, either through the silent treatment or rejection.

How many of your friends say they are there for you, but when push comes to shove, they aren’t? They don’t really want to know. Let’s keep smiling, be positive no matter what, whatever spin they need to justify why they are not there for you in your hour of need.

But that aside I think I’ve lost the aRt of communication, or perhaps I never had it. Maybe words are all I have, in the form of poetry, short fiction and songwriting. I cannot seem to be able to articulate accurately what I am feeling to anyone anymore, especially my friends. Some have turned their backs on me, and walked away, some say they understand, and then go distant and leave me alone.

And…

A few stay. They stick with me. They check in with me every day just to see how I am. In times of need is truly when you do find out who your friends are, and I’ve always believed if you can count on one hand how many true friends you have, then we are blessed. It’s those friends that matter.

And for those who have listened to me cry, rant and felt my turmoil and anguish and just listened without judgement or trying to fix me, I thank you. I love you. If you are reading this, YOU know who you are 💜

Since, somewhere along the way I’ve forgotten how to communicate, it seems storytelling is still my strongest asset in communicating, so I will not waffle on anymore about the ins and outs of what has, and is going on for me, you can read my song|poem below instead.

I originally wrote this piece at 4am in a lovely apartment in St Albans, England three years ago, but that’s another story. I am now going to rewrite most of it, right here, right now to fit the current situation.

This is the first ‘freestyle’, ‘draft’ whatever you want to call it, I’m just getting it out, and then calling it a day.

Thank you for listening 🙏🏼

With love from my heart to yours 💜

I’M NOT OKAY

I'm not okay
Are you okay?

Down the gravel road
of cobblestones unturned.
Laying heavy against my chest
thoughts obscure,
mangled,
between sheds of skin,
ripping at the seams,
of regret,
of resentments,
filled with languished hopes,
and how our hearts and minds tease us 
at the hands of society,
that strangle our throats.

I'm not okay.
Are you okay?

Inside the wet down
of blankets,
of rain,
droplets upon
faces of brown,
of black,
of white,
And red,
ruddied with tears,
bloodied from the chain
that strikes,
gouges my eyes,
again,
and again,
living inside the prison of pain.

I'm not okay.
Are you okay?

Received upon the altar of despair
Leave me here,
Inside the blanket
of memories,
inside trees of hope,
whispering,
taunting me,
brushing me,
touching me,
entangling and weaving the willows
of green inside my hair,
tying me to the
shame so common,
yet so rare,
we speak not of it
for fear,
of judgment,
of fix its,
of brokenness,
of life lost,
inside the abyss.

I'm not okay
Are you okay?

Been down this road before
locked into a train
with no escape,
except for the small moments of 
human touch,
of distant memories,
that torment,
and dance with demons,
lurking inside the
squared shape, 
that has now become my heart,
A box inside itself,
within itself,
twice over,
engraved upon stone,
Upon cement,
A cold, concrete space
of the dark kiss of lament.

I'm not okay.
Are you okay?

Received upon the altar of despair,
Leave me here,
Inside the blanket of decay.
I'm not okay.

© Samira Wyld 2020
#AWyldLoveNote

If you’d like to come back to any of my poetry within these blog posts click here

Stay seXy, Stay wYld, Be free

Peace out ☮

Samira xo

Remember to subscribe… to be notified of new content direct to your inbox

Your feedback is ALWAYS welcome, please share by leaving a comment below.

Please share on social media, and/or forward to a friend if you think this might serve them, or be something they will enjoy.

NEW album | Instagram | Twitter | Books | Youtube | Mixcloud Periscope