Poetry Blogs (2018, poetry)

Be The Adult You Would Have Wanted To Be

They look at me like I'm the problem
and the cause of their boredom
and who knows
maybe in some ways I am.
I was a teenager once
bemoaning the lack of activities to get involved in
because opportunities were slim
and money was always tight
we had no Internet
to check through what's on listings
or you tube videos to learn new skills

 

I remember a lack of positive role models
which...

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memoriespoempoetrysocial commentary

Silence.

We all started this life screaming, red faces infants, exiting mothers wombs with something to say. Things have changed now. We no longer know how to speak our minds, we cross our legs and bite our tongues refusing to let the words escape. How did we get to this point? When did we realize our opinions no longer mattered? it's funny to think that silence is mistaken for tactfulness. "its not my pla...

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poetry

Have You Seen My Wayfaring Father

Have you seen my wayfaring father

He went astride before I was grown

He left our stead and my fragile mother

(He said he would not tarry long)

I summon him this decoration day

 

I left our stead late December

(With no ballast or chink in my pockets)

Across Mountain brook

Through thorn-ed bramble

To find him consorting with the abandons

I will not be swayed, this de...

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lyricspoetry

Snippets 6.

Like any good friend, we sit on bedsheets un/noticing

how she hides beneath in a fetal position.

and we let her cry, because home

has become a nostalgic pang

more cumbersome than hunger.

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Poetry

Like crocodiles

entry picture

Words, feeling, deeds,
nothing could tell you where this alley leads,
standing strong, the key in your hand,
nothing wrong with your pretended end.
Walking on, walking fast, the alley along.
Into the shadow you take a walk,
into the the shadow, into the dark.
The shape of twighlight people,
standing side by side.
The key just like a needle,
you are holding tight.
Passing the alley faste...

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Animalsmind powerpoetry

No title

When the moon high up in the sky,
lights the way for the broken hearted,
who think everything was just a lie,
lonely they retarded.
When summer ends and fall arives,
the blue turns grey and white,
the appletrees finish their lifes,
just one apple,just one bite.
When girls on breezy fields,
pick flowers on a summerday,
the flirty guys will come their way,
on heavy wooden wheels.
When on...

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feelingspoetryrandomness

Names

A stranger half naked

Stands before me.

I whisper

Inaudible

And his eyes start to melt

the acute angles filling black with pupil

bleed

ing

baptismally

except the skin

tight

ly

clings to the bones.

 

The mouth moves, but only Blood trickles

So only I can hear him ask myself

 

What will become of me? If you peel away what’s left

Like a lemon in s...

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poetry

BETWEEN TWO STONES

entry picture

 

 BETWEEN TWO STONES

 

 Horses raced here

 Until the railway

 Cut the field in half

 Between two stones

 And a third

 No longer standing.

 

 The first excavation

 Proved this to be true

 From the clay pipes

 And wine bottles

 Now cleaned

 And catalogued.

 

 More recent surveys

 Using methods

 Geophysical

 Indicated the presence

 Of se...

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AberystwythDavid SubacchipoetryWelsh Poetry

Snippets 5.

15.

Winter came early in December

crept into 3AM and slept

on the windowsill – gently breathing.

 

Winter walked on the sidewalk

the bones in her wrinkled hands

shaking like the wind shaking

like the trees shaking like it’s limbs shaking

like Winter when no one is                                          home.

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poetry

Snippets 4.

I am the ghost that waits in the rain alone.

By the wet path of stone-tiled sky.

In the poem crumpled and thrown.

 

Green lights glisten on a tinted windowpane

we meet Midway. Half smile: Half lie.

I am the ghost that waits in the rain alone.

 

We hold hands tightly, bone to bone

because you’re cold and because I,

In the poem crumpled and thrown

 

, keep running...

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poetry

Snippets 1.

1.

bits of string

lay on wet, brown tiles.

They were not his, making out in the noise,

but mine, plucked by the strength of her poise

I stared enviously, brokenly, tiredly

quietly

at the pile, they had become

 

bits of string

twisting in that frigid, black night.

we staggered back home

our breath tying white laces

around our necks.

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poetry

Last Spring

Last spring was filled with joy and
Laughter.
With little children's giggles
Began a new chapter
Of my life.

A little girl with beautiful
Curly hair
Gave me some candy
As I was sitting on the side of the road
Hungry, and homeless.
A little boy came up to me
And gave me a hug.

Two adults were walking by.
They kicked me in the stomach
And told me to leave
My resting place.

But ...

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