Poetry Blogs (2019, poems)
Poems are my photographs
my inner monologue
poems are my measurement
the fingerprints of emotions
invisible no more
Poems are my expression
the sum of interactions
they show my working out
Poems are the breath
of lost lovers
against my neck
Poems are my kisses
for my family and my friends
the hugs I seldom give
And your poems...
your poems keep me company
Sunday 3rd November 2019 2:11 pm
Poetry is my
drug of choice,
rays of sunshine.
on lonely nights,
my lost lover
in my ear,
birds in flight,
Sunday 3rd November 2019 12:39 pm
Willpower and discipline,
have long been two of the
most despised words in the
english language to me.
What character flaw prevents
the willpower and discipline
necessary to be the person
I imagine myself capable of being?
A half-lived life is heartbreaking.
There is no acceptable excuse,
not age or disability.
Even people with no limbs
live empowered lives
built on willp...
Saturday 12th October 2019 3:29 am
The way I write;
I brainstorm twenty titles
words or phrases
that sound good to me
that subconsciously already feel like parts of me
I refine them
and refine them
pile them up around my feet
when I’m in the mood to write
I either start writing
(with aim or aimlessly)
until I get stuck
then grab a title
work it in the lock
release the poem that was hidden
(o, and it fee...
Wednesday 9th October 2019 2:25 pm
I love to write poetry,
It gives me vent for my expression.
And believe it is a more peaceful way
Than turning to aggression.
Of all words that I may choose
I am in main seat of control.
To show my thoughts on many things,
And to exult the reader's soul.
And when I find my inspiration
I ponder - what is my next direction?
Though I sometimes find it hard to d...
Sunday 25th August 2019 12:02 pm
the second my eyes caught your gaze,
i’ve been consumed with a powerless craze
i saw you.
your knife sits inside me stuck
but the high from this adrenaline rush
i get through.
the two of us in a room:
please don’t leave, i better leave soon
turn me blue.
say my name in conversation
dials up a full body sensation
this is new.
i resent the wo...
Saturday 20th July 2019 3:24 pm
Thousands of pages in an empty room
Thousands of stories waiting to be told
The pages go untouched
The magic within begins to fade
Beloved characters cease to exist
Daring fights go unheard of
People begin to feel empty
Not always sure why
It's because those empty rooms
Inked pages breathe life to us
Teach us history, adventures, to love
We mustn't forget t...
Monday 24th June 2019 4:43 pm
how you challenge me.
Calling me to rhyme on time
when I would rather procrastinate
with this talent of mine.
A poem a day keeps the doldrums away.
Read it, write it, recite it,
makes no difference
Just do what you can
with what you've got
and see how happy
you will be!
Monday 1st April 2019 5:46 pm
The blackness doesn't exist
With eyelids positioned, fixed
To all looking in
A mind that won't give in.
Spectrums of colour await
Films and events,
Into moments that shouldn't exist
As the frequency demands it's existence to manifest.
The future and past
Pour like an hourglass
With each grain of sand
Making moments of transcendent glam.
Moments defined by an anagra...
Thursday 14th March 2019 2:52 pm
Below is one of my children's poems called 'Disney Days'.
Warmer than a Sheep Dog hug
or happiness rolled in a rug;
dancing dizzy Dulux joy,
whirls and swirls and shouts ‘Ahoy!’
Brighter than a scientist,
the artist’s pallet shines and skips.
Free from Greenwich Mean Time days,
they demonstrate their West End ways.
Talent dazzles, beaming light
into the insides of o...
Friday 1st March 2019 8:52 pm
Terence Evans had little respect
For the life or the welfare of any insect
He swatted the fly with the rolled daily news
And stamped on the beetle in his Doc Marten shoes
Unfortunate spiders were drowned in the bath
Caterpillars were crushed should they dare cross his path
He bisected worms with his pocket penknife
Pulled the legs off cray-fly and...
Monday 25th February 2019 2:20 am
The dawn never breaks, the sun never sets.
Dirty grey brown sky is as good as it gets.
Malevolent and brooding it hangs like a veil.
Twenty-three feet above the Arndale.
Where uncouth youth roam in packs.
Their flint like scowls as keen as tacks.
Malice and boredom forged the frowns.
On the not so bright future of Mediocre Town.
But don’t be fooled, these kids are scho...
Wednesday 20th February 2019 12:36 am
My rhymes form in clouds
over the arm chair
beside my note books
and the fire
My lines are captured
in the remains of the forest
immortalised on its pulp
My words are held captive awhile
in the bright prison cells
where machines etch their pain
on smooth white sheets
My once quiet thoughts crash
noisily onto the leaves
again and ...
Monday 18th February 2019 9:53 am
So it's cliche,
So it's not
So it doesn't rhyme,
Don't let judgmental
the part of
your soul that
longs to make
sense of life.
Tuesday 15th January 2019 2:44 am