Bob Hood

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Old age pensioner who now has the time to devote to getting the stories out of my head and onto the page.

Bob Hood Discussions
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Hello,Can anyone tell me which site they find is the best to use for obtaining feedback about their …
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  •  · Hi Bob. The defunct Wordcloud (the Townhouse in a previous life) was the best place I found to excha…

I wish I could write as well as that. No wasted words, and very strong emotional imagery. Very Well Done! 

My feeble efforts seem totally amateur by comparison.

Added a post  to  , Bob Hood

Here's a poem I just wrote. It's from my book The Xyancy Generation.

Entitled: Kabric's Escape

The world is dark

There is no light

I close my eyes

This weary night

I go to sleep

And dream the day

When I myself

Will shine the way

For I'm a star

The world's a stage

My spirit breaks

Out of its cage

I bend myself

In every shape

They'll stand in awe

Of my escape

As I blaze across the sky

Remember this lullaby


You can count on me 

Lazy eyes

One two three


Amazing guy 

Blazing by

Cage free 

Late one tonight, and not at all well thought out either. It's all I had time to do as I've got lots of other stuff going on right now.


The Adventure


I'm getting tired and need to sleep
but never mind I'm sure it'll keep
the story I was going to tell you
that if you heard you might enjoy

still, I'm sure you can wait till tomorrow
there's no rush I'm sure that you'll agree
the story's really not much of a tale
it's just another adventure you see
about a boy and a girl who meet
and how they eventually become free

free from oppression, free from anger
free from depression and free to roam
across the open plains and steppes
to somewhere they can choose as home

so join with me and hold my hand
I'll show you how it all pans out
as we go exploring through this land
and I'll explain what it's all about

there was a boy and he had a dream
to meet a girl to call his own
but though he searched he could never seem
to find her, she remained unkown

and so he went on his great journey
searching every town and city
talking to everyone he met
hoping that he'd find the one
the one he's meant for in his dreams
but somehow though he went for miles
he couldn't find her so it seemed

instead all he found was heartache
loneliness that filled his soul
an emptiness a migraine headache
a painfulness that took its toll

but one day when all hope was gone
he sadly sat and in despair
then happened to look up and there
she was the girl with eyes that shone

she smiled and sat down next to him
as though she'd known him all his life
he looked agog and wondered then
if she would one day be his wife

so hand in hand and side by side
they walked on out to seek their fate
taking on the world together
a new life to investigate

but as it's late I won't continue
I'm too tired to carry on
perhaps I'll tell you more tomorrow
if by then I haven't forgotten


Well, so far I've managed to put out some form of words as a sort of poem every day now since Jan 1st. It was on this forum that I committed to writing a poem a day from Jan 1st to June 30th. I've kept up the output, but for the first month or so they were very dire, so I didn't put any of them up here. However, I think they've improved a bit, although not by much, and I started posting them up here on the poetry forum from sometime in February if I remember. 

Anyway, I'm still plugging on and trying to think of a new subject each day (that's the hardest part!) but once I put fingers to keyboard the words start to flow, albeit hesitantly, onto the screen. 

I've recently got hold of a book by Stephen Fry called "The Ode Less Travelled" which is teaching me all about the different poetic forms that have been set up by people over the centuries, and it's been a good read. Although I don't think it's made much difference to my own output, other than to let me know that the poem I've just written is of a particular type that was invented by so and so in the twelfth century.

Ho hum, it's been a good exercise in time management if nothing else, and I do enjoy a good poem. Currently trying to read my way through Paradise Lost by Milton. It's heavy going and my eyelids get very heavy after a page or two as well.

One other thing as well regarding moons. As the planet in your book is your own invention, you could have it that the moons go the opposite way to the sun, or one of them could go one way and one the other if they have different orbits.

Regarding whether moons move from left to right or right to left. That depends on whether the person seeing them is in the northern or southern hemisphere. In the northern hemisphere they always go left to right, the same as the sun. In the southern hemisphere it's the opposite, they all go right to left.

It's something worth remembering for any historical fiction too. Sundials as we know them in the northern hemisphere won't work unless redesigned to show the time the other way, i.e. anti-clockwise instead of clockwise as the ones in the northern hemisphere work.

Due to problems with my right hip I didn't get much sleep last night. However, I've slept half the day away, and with what's left I've spent a few minutes putting together today's ode.




"I'll rise to the occasion!" he said looking at the mountain
but being only ten years old it wasn't such a boast 
however, over the next few years he shot up like a fountain
puberty came and puberty went
exams were passed and then at last
to university he was sent

and now he could really stretch himself to rise above his peers
he studied hard to gain his grades and did so without fear
of ever being beaten or gainsaid in his subjects
until at last his finals passed 
his race was won and clear

a bright career now beckoned for this first class man of letters
he'd done his best to show the rest that he was blessed and better
and interviews now followed from requests by this go-getter
but here he found he hit a snag no-one wanted a trend setter

his bold ideas were anathema to those whom he'd applied to
they only needed clay from which to mold the candidate who
fitted in with their ideas and then ticked all the boxes
so bright as buttons geniuses weren't hunted down like foxes
but instead were turned away to go and seek out other means
to earn a crust and gain the trust
of those who must employ them 
and just give orders to their teams

so at last he found a niche, it wasn't what he wanted
instead he had to knuckle down and not be the exhalted one
but with a frown 
he kept his head down
working like a beaver
to build the dream as one of a team 
in time he became their leader

and so he found his childhood boast had really come to pass
he'd risen to the occasion and recognition followed on at last
now he could hold his head up high 
when he saw how far he'd climbed for
to reach the highest grade in whatever he'd applied for

"I think I've risen far enough" he whispered to himself
then slowly easing, quietly teasing 
his career he was silently freezing
till in its place was an empty space
he turned his face away with grace
to seek another goal to chase and mountains to attempt
for the saying really is true that; 'familiarity breeds contempt'


Early one today. As it's sunny outside (but not for long according to the forecast!) I was inspired to write about a sunny day.


Decisions decisions


The morning sun shone through the curtains
"It's a lovely day outside" he said
then rolling from his bed he reached across
and pulled the curtains far apart to let more sunlight in
the warmth and brightness lifted up his heart

"It does me good to see the sun" he muttered to himself
then turned to wake his partner soundly sleeping
she hid her face behind her hand to shield her hurting eyes
then smiled at the new day now appearing

so up they got and breakfasted and then the man declared
"I think it's time we moved along my dear!"
"Why?" she said, "What's wrong with this place?" nodding with her head
and pointed through the door to what was near

for they were next to a silver stream that bubbled as it ran
through meadows lush with grass of vivid green
"There's nothing wrong with here" he said as the scenery he scanned
"but we've seen all there is that can be seen"

"So where do you think we should go?" she asked him with a frown
"We might have seen the sights, but that's not all,
the people of the village are so friendly I have found,
much more than any others I recall"

"Yes I agree they are quite friendly, generous too it seems,
I've found both work and comradeship, and that is what I mean,
it soon would be a prison, with ever open doors,
and us unable to go through for fear of what we'd lose"

"It's true it would a prison make, a life long one at that,
we'd leave it in a pine box come the day,
so I agree you're right to say it's time that we moved on,
let's gather up our things and be away"

and so they hitched the horse and cleared the fire of its embers
then packed away their precious pots and pans
and soon were once more on the road and no-one now remembers
the travellers in the gypsy caravan


Oh you naughty girl! :-)

I remember in an episode of the Simpsons Mr Burns' sidekick Smithers saying, "In my experience women and seamen never mix!" But then again, he was rather a 'gay' blade.

Perhaps show her fear through darting eyes, sudden shakes, furtive moves, walking quickly (if it's dark), constantly looking around to see if she's being followed, keeping one hand in her pocket on a heavy spanner or a screwdriver, or small hammer? All these things are indicative of fear, extreme fear of being attacked.

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