On The Road with Vicky Lamburn

A piece of prose…

In Suburbia

In suburbia the mind restlessly wrestles with paved inertia and the beat of life passes by on a horizon distant and forgotten, nothing left in the heart to feel and nothing left to jump at with zeal; so passion and a little life has flown away across the roof tops and gone away into the miasma of haste and mortar. In suburbia she raises her head a little from the passenger seat and peers through the triplex, eyes as glazed as the pane she looks through, distant and longing for something that fell from her grasp so long ago. And he walks with solemn purpose but with no purpose all at the same time in a semi-detached nation of indifference, indecision and inaction. There is a job and a duty but no longer love nor zest to spring forth the dreams that a long forgotten youth once hinted at with an eye’s caressing glint of eagerness. And the drum goes on, the tarmac marches on, the streetlights turn from blank to sodium orange and the sky turns turtle on the mark with racing headlights searching out a lifetime’s journey of déjà vu. In suburbia he longs for the day to break free and make good on the grand promise of travel and writing the book; but turns to the Valium provided for the masses to sedate any hope of breaking from that nine to five he once swore never to be part of. In suburbia she peers into the mirror hanging jewellery from her neck and bunching her hair back waiting for a day to parade in grandeur and pride; But nothing, but nothing. Not even the clarion call to action or the faint sound of a song seeping through that was once felt so deeply inside. And so it goes in suburbia: the pavement cracks and the creeping cats, the windswept parades and vaunted charade of breaking loose. But in suburbia the ring road has you encircled, with your hard-shouldered love waning and verge-side passion wilting before an ever darkening horizon over suburbia.

This is a ‘little’ something that I have been working on for a little while now. It’s not finished but I decided to post it here hopefully to spur me on to finish it…

Purpose by Victoria JK Lamburn

Your glistening eyes are the very eyes that my mother would have said, “Step away!” are drawing me in, luring me deep into your uncharted territory that swims beneath the piercing blue. And what lurks beyond the iris’ ocean? Do you even know yourself in your quieter pensive moments reserved for only you within the four walls of ticking clocks? Seldom does a thought fuse and the moment then snaps and clicks and suddenly it becomes sense itself…

Only for brevity to snatch it away, and then your ocean of thought and emotion is occluded by mist at the shores; riddled as the tide, ceaselessly, rhyming an eternal paean for time and confusion. What is the purpose of you and those devious eyes, the purpose of you and your thoughts? The purpose of me drawn to those eyes and your soft delicate face around, what purpose does it serve us to be locked with our shy little stares and quiet little lost moments at sea?

Then there is your hands drumming towards my beating heart, a delicate flick of the small hand to sweep that lone lost lock of long blonde hair from the left, dazzling me with a sapphire’s glare full beam ahead of me. Your nails, though not manicured look nervously bitten but neat and clipped. Here I am on your deserted shores that, beckoning me towards the rocky isle that screams with echoing fate of others who’ve struggled towards pleasure.

And your eyes haunt me when I close my own to chase away the fear of a heart’s aching love. I’m trying to hide behind my veil, rummaging through my soul to find the deep and burning fear that reminds me of the last call from a fanciful voice and alluring eyes that whipped me with sharp black lashes. Maybe there is nothing more than to submit myself to your enticing shores and in wild abandon plunge uncertainly into the ether of fate.

Copyright ©2009 Victoria JK Lamburn

In those hidden twisting Westways of your mind
Under the arches of your pure and shadowed passions
Are the calculated and optimised rational desires
Where lay the the fires of the lovers you’ve left behind

Grey clouds to oppress and depress tired city eyes
Locked in mindscapes peering out over the balustrade
And nothing over there is what you want to see
Nothing over there springs with youth’s verdant dreams

Your eyes write a song — a poem of your time past
Muddied by a sodium glare in a wet November night
Never sure whether you have won or have lost in your blues
All that is sure is a paean of loss you have tried to hide

In the sinister glare of red light and steaming fumes
It is never clear when you will ever get going
When that light will be green and you will be free
Trapped in a shadowed mania of concrete thunder

Bird trapped in the net flapping for its freedom right
Trying to dilute your emotions in your saline wells
But you can’t fake that love you once had and lost
You are dissolved and beaten behind destiny’s wheel

Inertia creeps all over and you wonder when passion left
Are you smothered or smoldering in this urban insanity?
When are you going to break from your hidden byways
And for love step off this recursion before you’re driven insane.

Memoirs of a Time

These photos have been ‘recaptured’ using my SE K800i but were originally taken using my Canon EOS-5 with my 28-135mm Sigma lens. I am hoping to get them scanned in properly soon but laying them on the floor and arranging them into some kind of story and capturing it on my mobile phone was pretty cool as well. They were originally taken using Fujifilm Neopan 400CN C41 process film and the results were fantastic.

These photos were taken at the Black Rabbit, Arundel, W. Sussex in April 2007.

Zombie

Another head hangs lowly,
Child is slowly taken.
And the violence caused such silence,
Who are we mistaken?

“Zombie” — The Cranberries

On the way back from London taking a look out to the desolate Sussex countryside at night, eyes weary and brain working through its avenues of moonlight and cyclic thoughts of representation, semantics of the world and how this all figures with everything... A rare photo of myself up close that I like.

It’s here…

My second book. See a different side to the face you think you know.
Click the banner to preview and purchase on Lulu.com

Produced in entirely open source software.