Poetry Blogs (Oct 2009)
With cold hands entangled
through her mane,
Epona carried me on winding goat paths
and over tumbling streams.
Together we crossed the
wildest mountain passes
across moors of twisted heather
where bees rise on currents
of honeyed air.
She returned me
to all the places I had loved
Through cities of stone,
across ancient bridges
Saturday 31st October 2009 9:37 pm
i.m. Ivor Cutler (1923-2006)
Someone said they were dreaming outside
they were slumped over a cup of coffee
and it was milky and sweet
and the day smelt of suntan lotion
Someone said they were sitting on a bench
they were under a umbrella
and they saw a man wearing short trousers
and it was Mr Cutler beside a bicycle
Someone said they had a mint with their latte
they wanted to give i...
Saturday 31st October 2009 8:16 pm
Also by Rodney Wood:WESTY POEM NO. 19 GONG MYOUNG | THE BANTAM COCK | JERRY SADOWITZ |
I cry so hard, because I fear we will always be apart I long for you with every part of me, but yet I fear so much that we will never be, if I could just see you once, hold you tight that would be the happiest moment of my life if I were to die now I would die broken-hearted , for then we would have always been parted, I cant help but to cry my heart aches for you to be nearby don’t forget me my...
Saturday 31st October 2009 6:31 pm
Also by layla turner:emptyness |
I often think of Shakespeare at his desk;
in tavern, Wilton House, Globe, Stratford town:
half-penned, some sonnet’s graceful arabesque,
loose-curled around some thought to poem grown:
did he, I wonder, in his molten mind
need pause, to smith some jewelled rhetoric ?
or search his brain, some fitting rhyme to find
for thoughts far deeper than a rhymester’s trick ?
Saturday 31st October 2009 3:51 pm
Also by michael shepherd:Chris's liver recorded live | Gertrude Stein is interviewed on American Poetry | Commentator battles through to gold in banality final | English Teacher | Hardworn | Surgery | Donald Rumsfeld in Wordsworth Country | A Novel Situation | On Not Quite Knowing Kathleen Raine | Rudagi's Wine Song | Bier is rest | the Fates fly home to roost | Love You | Are you offended by the word 'offensive' ? If so,, | Gertrude Stein meets Marilyn Monroe in Tiffany's | A measured nature: the Japanese mind | Monk | Mrs Wordsworth joins WriteOutLoud | Words of Consolation for a Wet Day in the Lake District | Enthusiasm | A spiral scratched into an ancient Irish gravestone | Body Language |
I am frightened.
These rumours are spurious.
About my involvement,
in an incident,
at the bakers.
I don’t know if you’ll believe me.
But please try to relieve me.
Because at the moment,
it’s a matter for the police.
It was this Saturday morning,
When hunger struck without warning.
And like yeast,
I was drawn to the dough.
And as I took in the shop vi...
Saturday 31st October 2009 1:12 pm
Also by Ralph Dartford:The Loveless | The Palindrome |
I am one, I am two I am three million.
The ways I know are a thousand trillion
Spend an epoch, squander an age
Eons pass, I am the sage
I tell the future, own your past
Life inside, the dice is cast.
How many microbes in this space
Adrift like plankton,
A world-wide rat race
Follow me, I know the way
Don’t be shy, go get bitten
I have done it all, and written.
Saturday 31st October 2009 11:15 am
I lay beneath a blossom tree
Counting the seconds
Of a petals fall
From branches stirred
By the force of my heart beat,
By the sound of my heart’s call.
Petals that lay down softly
A patchwork dressing
To sooth scorched skin
Burnt from staying in the sun
Waiting to be found by him.
I never told him I was hiding
That I wanted him to listen
To the whispers of my soul,
Friday 30th October 2009 6:48 pm
Also by Jessie:Just being together | Aneurysm | Living in Depression | Losing Time | Learning Anatomy | Nature 2 | Nature |
as unemployement levels rise,
tenfold in the last twenty years
Realisation of all heavenly fears...
Millions of Angels on the dole,
only supply jobs for the odd soul....
Scuffles break out for assignations
during peaceful demonstrations,
Celestial chaos in jobcentres overrun....
isn't it time that something was done?!'
[Blazed the 'The Archangel' headlines,
29th October in the yea...
Friday 30th October 2009 1:54 pm
Also by Nicky Burrows:'Siren' | Bone Dry (and Destitute)- the plight of two children. | 'Open-Mic Virgin' | Critical Obfuscation of the Poet Critic | Being | Single Malt Tears | Apples and Pears | Silence | Single Malt Rain | Pearl Stitch |
This is my poem on religon, if your a hardcore catholic turn away now.
Of morals and methods the grey one speaks
And men in tall chairs shield
From the knowledge of question.
The fools world spread their winged ears
To receive the good news:
"We need more money."
Theft without apparent crime they feed on fear
And the poor come packed
With a pock...
Thursday 29th October 2009 6:26 pm
Also by Kealan Coady:From Beneath Hades. | De Frustratie Neurose | The Fires of Burning Midnight. |
Siren on the Rocks
Strutting around like a pea-hen.
Goods displayed for all to see,
Like a meat-stall on the market.
‛Best breast on special offer’
‛Get yourself a nice bit of leg for the weekend.’
She might as well carry a billboard,
‛Two for the price of one.’
Form a queue,
for a cocktail or ten.
‛Siren on the Rocks’
A quick grope against the wall,
Thursday 29th October 2009 2:31 pm
In many ways, my iPod is better than your iPod
Yours is okay, sure, but if you look closely
You’ll notice that mine is a much whiter model
And the headphones are monogrammed
And you can fit millions of songs on it
As well as photos and movies and spreadsheets and graphs and amusing Powerpoint-type presentation things.
Whereas yours – well, it looks like you’ve owned it for a few months, if y...
Thursday 29th October 2009 1:32 pm
(A bit of spooky fun for Halloween - whooooo!)
It was innocent youth he left behind
Grown up experience that he sought
To go and see the world was on his mind
Feeling that his time was growing short
The best way being, or so he thought
From Portsmouth harbour to set sail and so
An ageing merchant vessel was caught
Away he went to see his English home no more
Thursday 29th October 2009 11:58 am
Also by Neil West:Cry Me A River | Mid Life Crisis | An Anti-Love Poem | re poems about historical figures |
Thursday 29th October 2009 2:23 am
Also by Marianne Daniels:Self Portrait | Faust's Manifesto | The Stark Flight of the Soul. | Fever | Holes in the Box | The Stubborn Stumbling Mirror | Doped Bruises like Banquets |
A cool pool of blood across the abatoir.
The last of the lambs,
tortured, slaughtered for us.
Peaceful at last
the lambs who looked to us as gods.
Meals on four legs they were for us
Born for the fire of suffering.
Perhaps they are best
Each one gone
each one at rest.
Be sensible humans....
Cheese and eggs have
as much protein
or even nuts and soya.
Wednesday 28th October 2009 3:32 pm
Goodbye, my love,
Never forget to write me,
Remember my love for you,
Envisage me in your mind,
See me in your dreams,
and forever you're in mine.
There is no last goodbye
Goodbye, my love,
Wednesday 28th October 2009 1:18 pm
Also by BRASS:Pakistan | Waiting | Peace! In A World Full of Tears. | Then Came Sadness From Beauty | Truth In A World Without Tears | No Last Goodbye | She spins for me | SUDAN |
remotely, my loneliness
swirls in the emptiness of a worthless oil drum
i wear it in bed
black and widowed
and here i practice my early morning wake up calls
of hard work
and calculator screens
where all adventure is delayed
and in english i am speaking
but in german i am feeling
as sadness tinkers out to public spaces
in tones of sunday glockenspiels
Wednesday 28th October 2009 12:16 pm
Meek and mild
You know I'm not
I'm spicy hot
A chilli pepper
with fiery bite
Or snarling dog
ready to fight
Can hold my own
Can bare my fangs
Chew to the bone
Kill you cleanly
Leave no trace
Wipe that look
from off your face
and narrowed eyes
Are you really,
My baby blonde
is Fool's Gold
Wednesday 28th October 2009 9:40 am
Tuesday 27th October 2009 8:03 pm
When you’re out and about in the winter’s cold
And the end of your nose starts to drip
When the bitter wind chill blows a freeze on your cill
And dries it to a crust on your lip
When the size of the port in your nasal reveal
Has shrunk to the size of a dot
And your brain can’t regain the front of you head
From the blockage of package of snot
When the glow from you konk has them dipping t...
Tuesday 27th October 2009 7:15 pm
Also by Christopher Dawson:Your label |
The War of the Roses
Red on one side, white on the other
the roses steadfastly facing one another
I was caught in the middle like some referee
with both lines armed with sharp points aimed at me
As I stood uncertain of which way to go
my hand gripped my own short weapon you know
twin blades close together would soon be apart
as I released the catch and to war I did start
Soon my blood was seen to dri...
Monday 26th October 2009 9:58 pm
Also by Dave Dunn:Love Passes | After | Clouds of Rain | A W.O.M.A.N. |
The years have gone by and I still stand amongst the shadows of time forever searching in my dreams to be set free unleashed upon thee, to leave these Fears and Tears behind
I am me I know this, If i could just see your smile once more to feel your touch upon my cold skin to lay amongst the fields like I did as A child , To see you breath life within me once more how I along for this
But it will...
Monday 26th October 2009 5:05 pm
The British Catholic man was having a chat
with his mate the British Methodist man when
along came the British Hindu man with his friend
the British Buddist man,
conversation was flowing well and the
British Muslim man and the
British Jewish man joined in, but
they all started to boo and hiss when
the British Atheist man tried to join in and
were totally confused when the
Monday 26th October 2009 4:34 pm
Time passes quite slowly
As everyone sits, trying to be patient
Most read, others fiddle with phones
One young one plays with a hand-held game
My son listens to his ipod, I write
Aged from five to 65
We sit on mismatched brown wooden chairs
Set against a very busy floral patterned carpet
“Flick, flick” reply the thumbed pages
As they waft barely audible music
There is a...
Monday 26th October 2009 10:58 am
Also by Lenford White:Be Good To You |
A snippet of my favourite poetry
From The Bacchae by Euripedes
Translated by E.V.Rieu Penguin ed.
Will they ever come to me, ever again,
The long, long dances;
on through the night till the dim stars wane?
Shall I feel the dew on my throat, or the stream
Of wind in my hair; shall our white feet gleam
In the dim expanses?
Oh feet of a fawn to the greenwood fled
Alone I the grass ...
Sunday 25th October 2009 7:36 pm
Also by Freda Davis:Resting in the Labour ward. |
Sunday 25th October 2009 12:48 am
Also by Tommy Carroll:Assignation | Persephone's Filthy Dream | sit | lads unquestionably do: | try | hearing sadness | ...and thus it goes. | part of the sequence of the equation for scratching my nose... | GOING BACK-WARDS IN TIME: A Day In That Life | Fibonacci Sequence | Various poems and replies from others in thier style- a thank you! | point this way | The impossibility of knowing what's the probable causes and outcomes of finding your way around a certain 'tele-phone' company. | this smile | " Sure... how much?" | ...there's this then that. | 1,000,000,000 others | not reading old poems but listening to Kate Bush | Blackened Berries | Gymnopedies | The Cerebral Anjiogram or Blood on the Neuro X- Ray Department Dance Floor | 5th of shall one day be...and upon the 7th it was forgotten. Are men | Happy...thingy...what's his name...? | (untitled) | I left the party early: | going knowing gone! | I love Amy but as a guy said: | My knowing you: You knowing someone else. |
This is the new testament;
God said cover me
take the bullets & as you fall cast no shadow –
we’ve no sympathy for martyrs
even to the people who stand to witness the end of a hero;
The re- birth of a world with nothing but its history.
So I compose for a little while; musing with a smile,
I'm not John Holt, they call me God’s problem child
it’s my world, ...
Saturday 24th October 2009 4:57 pm
A dance untimed
Spanning bridges of indifference
Showing me theirs
Me showing them a goodtime girl
Roaring like the sea
In rages of song and rhyme
Undulating as one in the all together of getting there
Heralding the lip stained cold edge of morning
Kissing wine red a good bye and never letter
Love and loneliness wrapped in tissues of confusion
Saturday 24th October 2009 11:53 am
Also by Augusta Darling:One Night Stanza | Charlie |
El Shaddai is on both sides of both Walls
God is on all sides of all walls
Abraham Ibrahim you are brothers
Tel Aviv Ramallah you are sisters
The world is frightened.
You could be the spark
that starts the fire
that kills us all.
For the sake of your children, compromise
to love your neighbour, compromise
to obey your God, compromise
to save the...
Saturday 24th October 2009 9:06 am
Also by Dave Bradley:Churchill |
Why do you stare at me so, little one?
What has your soul seen before it came to me,
that you should regard me so gravely?
I wonder where you have come from;
you watch me
with such distrust.
Within my arms you have not smiled, nor
glanced about disinterestedly as...
Friday 23rd October 2009 9:11 pm
Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:Thinking (a tanka) | The Sage | Six-fifteen on a Rainy Evening | Falling Stars |
could this be?
your the one for me?
Friday 23rd October 2009 7:31 pm
Also by JEFF.W:Winter | What is love?.... |
You couldn’t help yourself,
You just had to have a look,
A sneak preview of a boy without trouble,
A double and take of his life.
He scared you!
Taking each shame that you threw
Like balls to a skittle still,
He never went kilter, or keeled
Under pressure, he never ventured
Your lie for his truth.
Friday 23rd October 2009 4:04 am
Also by Noetic-fret!:Stuck | Ode to the Pianist | Wetherspoons | Tickle _ Hurt |
ok it's not actually called that, I cant spell big a mist.
but who thinks she had the look and words of a total psycho?
Very exciting and kinda scary.
Must write a poem about this.
Loving C4's Docu series.
Thursday 22nd October 2009 10:00 pm
Half empty people
In a half empty town
Half way through the week.
Around a dying town centre
Wasting time between dole visits.
Like empty windows,
Peer into closed shops.
The shops are empty
But the pubs, like the job centre,
On a summer’s day
In a dying town.
Only the flower baskets saved the day
Thursday 22nd October 2009 7:02 pm
Also by Alan McKean:City Canal | Lares et panates |
UNDER THE MACHINE
Of the power
The complex beauty of creation.
That lengthens our stride
Limitless boundaries of exploration.
Village to village
City to city
Country to country
World to world,
Mind to mind,
Cyber pathways of neural conn...
Thursday 22nd October 2009 2:32 pm
Also by Tony Stringfellow:A point of contention, I'm sure... | Scars...again... | COFFEE CUPS AND PLATES |
I lie in Corporate cleanliness
Another night, another town
Sanitised box bed, in sanitised box room
Bereft of comforts for weary hearts
Missing the homeliness of familiar faces,
The tenderness of soft skin,
The welcome kiss after the hard day is done
Traffic noise permeates the window vents
Dulling the hum of the air-con high up
No children's laughter
No bedtime stories to r...
Thursday 22nd October 2009 12:25 am
Also by Andy Williamson:Carry me home. |
Time stands still in a front room in early ’95.
The telly is on but the sound is off,
All About Eve plays on the stereo,
soft vocal tones and powerful guitar.
The clock says a time but that doesn’t matter
as here it is timeless.
Bev drinks a glass of wine
while I have the rest of the bottle
and a full bottle of Thunderbirds.
I will be pissed for over a d...
Thursday 22nd October 2009 12:17 am
Also by NICK ARMBRISTER:a bit of a cliche but still relevant... | a poem i did when i was witth vicky | i did these in pub lol while waiting to do my open mic | southern song poem | some more poems |
I look well
But I’ve lost weight
I look a bit tired
But it suits, apparently
I um and ah and nod appropriately
And my ears aren’t here
And she keeps talking
I’m so lucky to get up when I like
And I’m desperately trying to work out how
To explain how it can take all day
To summon the strength to make the tea
And even then I need someone in there with me
And I’m only ma...
Wednesday 21st October 2009 11:59 pm
The telly said the Taleban would bring terror to our streets,
So our Ronny went to Afghanistan, to inflict some big defeats.
Yes, he had them on the run, but they must have run quite far,
‘Cos they got back here before him and vandalised his car.
For the Taleban are crafty, they hang about our street,
Wearing trekkies, baseball caps and drinking vodka neat,
They’ve shaved their beards ,...
Wednesday 21st October 2009 2:52 pm
Also by stephen smith:Cure cure | Home in the Country |
is better indoors
on days when it is
Wednesday 21st October 2009 9:49 am
Also by Richard Bergman:I wish I had penned that pt- 1 | Shopping in Greenwich | August | Past - Time | Two Larger Than Life Ladies | Abstract | Considering Others |
And resolute and aspirant
To be even more excellent
And others that are excellent
With mothers that will smother
Them in utter love and other
Because they’re just born to amaze
And that is what I want to be
To a tolerable degree
Tuesday 20th October 2009 8:09 pm
Also by Sophie Hall:The Awkward Corridor Conversation |
Let the silence grow within
like a secret never told,
like a fist clutching from inside,
like sunset on quiet sea.
The secret whispers, then,
deep into eyes that don’t see.
The hand unfolds, then,
reveals what was never kept.
The night caresses the day,
torn like ancient gods once were,
and silence spreads without a gesture
and opens motherly eyes offering, at last,
the most demanding shelter.
Tuesday 20th October 2009 12:38 am
On Taking My Daughter to Uni.
We whirly burly roar in stacked hairy chug -chug to
Teensy flat with drill and measure
For cheeslet space.
Oh, bright-jewelled daughter listen well and
Bury the lardy sofa and face-book mats for
Garanding booklet space with
Eyes that grip the spaceous green trails
Of dinting groveous thoughts!
Beware the smootherous amorit
That hungles hearts in shiny bl...
Monday 19th October 2009 10:21 pm
i want to join you asleep
at the edge off sunrise
and groan gently
across the breeze
into your eyebrows.
i want to carry you across
the finish line
in a camera shot finish
without you even
stirring slightly once.
want to score the winning goal
at wembley in injury time
and have you asleep
smiling on my shoulder
all the way home.
Want to look at the frozen tide
which is calling ...
Monday 19th October 2009 8:16 pm
Rules were made for breaking
I want to break them with you
History was made for making
I want to make it with you
Risks were made for taking
I want to take them with you
The Earth was made for shaking
I want to shake it with you
I’ll be your knight on a penny farthing
You be my damsel in a sequined dress
We’ll ride away on a sunken highway
Monday 19th October 2009 8:13 pm
Also by Horace Thespider:When I'm winding cleaners |
It's time for our walk in the woods,
Away from the hubbub of the day,
We hide and we pray,
The evergreen scent hones our deadened senses,
As we move to feel that before, we could not even touch.
And in a starry, cloudless sky,
The moon dusts the dewy boughs of the trees,
Shining through every drop with ease,
Shining down the shimmering spotlights that we shared,
As the hours pl...
Sunday 18th October 2009 2:50 pm
Also by Joshua Van-Cook:Griffin | Texting | Diary of Ian Curtis | Raincoat | Ebay |
I’m writing I love you in slow motion
that should make it last longer
it’s a little superstition of mine
pen cannot justify feelings
as intense as this
but I shall try
wrote my first love poem at six
and 9 degrees in the playground
by the bikes tin shack shells
we had ink wells reserved for numeric tells
but I didn’t use them
and in carved desks, scribed the graffitied dregs of lovers before
I ignored their w...
Sunday 18th October 2009 1:41 pm
Sunday 18th October 2009 1:17 pm
In a quaint little village
not far from here
fiddlers' romance diners
at restaurant tables on terraces
peppered with terracotta pots
overflowing parsley and thyme
and down a country lane lined
with white stone walls brimming
with alyssum rosemary and sage
leading to a curiosity shop where
a stradivarius violin with no bow
takes centre stage in the window
and there's irony in the tinkl...
Sunday 18th October 2009 2:22 am
I hate what I am doing to you,
trying to get you to hate me.
A map continues to elude my grasp,
bringing us to the same yearned for moment in time.
What I am going to say rips my still beating heart from my chest.
All air is driven from my lungs, through my lips, as they part, saying,
“You should leave me, find another!”
I feel so depressed and low saying that,
knowing my thoughts have now...
Saturday 17th October 2009 3:38 pm
Also by Phil Golding:To write a poem! |
The moon looks down
It has seen Kings and mountains fall
Oceans come and go
As days pass it is incomplete
As days pass it is complete
A diamond in the sky joins to lead
Three wise men near the end of their journey
The son and father of all, the father and son of all
Another book is written, the secon...
Friday 16th October 2009 11:17 pm
Also by Spencer Robertshaw - 07703 558825:An Autumn evening | Love | The Walk | Lullaby |