Poetry Blogs (2020, old)
Nicola Beckett on The Wisdom of Cats (2 hours ago)
We gather high upon the hill
To do our ritual and spells
It’s dark up here with a breeze
Just like it was five thousand years ago
Our ancestors met up here
And did what we did here
One long connected circle line
We add to that each year
The veil thins and we chant songs
Their words have meaning
Carefully put together for this act
Reaching out ...
Sunday 10th January 2021 10:01 pm
Your heart sags wrinkled now
Old and grey before its time
Ravages shown in bandy legs
A heavy toll of frost and rime
Tarry not till your heart is old
Make hay afore night descends
Time rips fast and none knows
When life sinks low and ends
Once your heart was fanciful
Joys were the order of the day
Now its an armchair and pills
Listening to what doctors sa...
Friday 9th October 2020 11:00 am
And ugly cries.
Narrow and broad;
Abundant with shops and bars,
And people- their bodies, minds and souls scarred.
Edifices tall and sturdy.
Trapped in it are people content and happy;
And those walking on thorns, barbed and merciless;
And those breathing but lifeless.
The city is a plac...
Monday 13th July 2020 9:44 am
I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair. *
She’s so sweet and loving.
I’m good looking for a man of my age,
with handsome gray hair – what there is of it –
that girls like to pat like they pat a pet dog.
I can’t wag my tail like a dog,
but I can flash a sweet smile.
My wrinkles portray character
and the wisdom that comes with age.
Skin cancers between wrinkles
betray my time ...
Thursday 2nd April 2020 9:42 pm
Many years ago I met a lovely girl.
She was fun to talk with about most anything
We walked through woods
and climbed some hills together,
She made lunch for picnics that we shared.
We walked on beaches, felt the crunch
of wet sand underfoot,
listened to seagulls and ocean waves,
and felt the caress of sea breezes.
We gathered shells with no place to keep them.
We were caught i...
Monday 30th March 2020 1:19 pm
I remember hearing my father's voice
from beyond the grave.
No dream—a single, scratchy vinyl
had captured his characteristic
lilting, homiletic style,
in and of itself,
to be the message—
no surprises there,
yet a resonance
and stays with me
Friday 5th April 2019 2:17 am
Player piano in the empty funeral parlor foyer cranks
out old standards with a Dixieland flourish. The old
wooden cross. How great thou art. Take my hand precious
Lord. No one hears it. No one is here to discuss pre-planning.
No one peruses coffins for his aunt who has been sick so long
the family forgot she would die. No one is scooped out
by grief at the accidental death o...
Tuesday 19th February 2019 11:07 pm
good you understand
not many do
some are judgemental
yes its possible
to have too much
of a good thing
living on a mountain than hikes
we are all old souls
some just dont realize
Wednesday 25th April 2018 11:56 pm
After a pause due to computer woes, I return to the airwaves with this offering. Its predominant theme appears to be the fear of change which, for me at least, is pervasive.
On The Border
The sky's dissolved in enveloping greys,
close as blankets, cold like hotel sheets;
looking over your shoulder as dawn raises day -
you test the gloaming's disdain for lamp-lit streets.
Thursday 22nd February 2018 3:01 am
What’s on your mind?
Who really wants to know?
A world filled with love
yet blind and ignorant of it
stuck in a cloud, observant
only once in a while truly touching
rarely feeling but always loving
does not know why
she might as well fill this world with smoke
then maybe this world won’t be so bad
what would you do if you saw
smoke signals from a rain cloud
Monday 20th November 2017 9:15 pm
It was surprising that after work, on Thursday,
she wanted to meet and share her bed with a man, again.
Maybe men, even, she thought, suddenly indecisive and guilty,
but for society, men, peers, their judgment, their pursed lips and nods of disapproval.
Now that she was almost home, her fireplace and Scotch seemed dearer, as usual;
the icy blanket of her acceptance of undesired celi...
Friday 21st July 2017 9:10 pm
In a creepy old house I
found a creepy old doll.
I bent to pick it up
and boy did I have a fall.
I stood up had a lump
on my head, but
I looked out the window,
day had turned to night.
I looked and looked but
did not find the doll.
I turned to leave and there
it was han...
Saturday 24th June 2017 4:43 pm
I was young .. A simple statement that is the answer to many questions I am presented with
Why did you get drunk, and throw up in the hall way?
Why did you leave school, and truant all day?
How did you get pregnant, at just seventeen?
Why did you marry him, given what you had seen?
Doesn't it feel silly, divorcing already?
You're only 21, doesn't your life seem so craz...
Tuesday 3rd January 2017 2:32 pm
I drew something today.
it's how I feel,
it all shifted.
it's just a pile of fucked up lines.
I analyzed this thought and realized that it accurately describes my whole life.
Everything I do,
everything I say,
is what I think fits.
What I think is right.
Friday 14th October 2016 6:13 am
I caught you peeking through the window,
Of this old abandoned house,
Finely crafted from the dreams I left behind.
I stopped you dead in your tracks,
The tracks I once wandered when I discovered this realm.
How did you find me through this smoke?
It was much to blinding for me.
You took my hand and walked away,
Only pulling half of me with you.
If just for a moment...
Friday 14th October 2016 6:00 am
Young and wrinkly
You are not getting old
But numerically you've advanced
No, you're not getting old
You're just chronologically enhanced.
You are not growing up
But of this much I am sure
To avoid growing up
We must become more immature.
We must dance until our joints creak
And sing until we can't speak,
Laugh until our lungs ache
And love until ...
Sunday 10th January 2016 10:23 am
The old lady shouted "Help me, please help me"
Sitting in her chair she was
wrapped in multicoloured shawl
refusing to elaborate
She couldn't see and couldn't hear
Refused to have her hearing help
Continued shouting "Help me help me"
"Won't somebody help me please"
Yet every time I tried to help her
Shouts vociferous and rude
Decrying all that...
Sunday 16th December 2012 1:49 am
In less than an hour it will be 1997.
In this short time do you remember?
Do you shrug off the past to make way for the future
or do you hold on to the dying year
seeing every minute disappear before your eyes?
On this, the last day we have been covered by snow
and frozen by the cold as the old God Cronus turns
his hour glass over for ano...
Friday 10th February 2012 7:38 pm
The musty smell of the old pub fills the air.
It reminds me of an old house –
how many people have lived, loved and laughed?
It reminds me of an old bus –
how many people have journeyed,
have missed deadlines through
delays, have dreamed.
All that is old, all that is mustiness.
Friday 3rd February 2012 2:53 pm
CITY UNDER THE SEA
Thousands of years ago there stood a huge prosperous city on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea.
Sea level was lower then and the ocean was smaller and less deep. Over the years the sea level rose, covering and drowning this magnificent place.
Many people tried to stay to ride out the storm but the flood of water became deeper and deeper until it was ...
Tuesday 24th January 2012 6:33 pm
We drive past a cottage in the country
with its quaint decorative bricks
coloured and weathered by age.
The east wall overlooks an overgrown field
with three huge windows hung with old curtains
hiding a burning oil lamp.
This small cottage is two centuries old
and everyone has lived here
from old Victorian families to a modern eighties wri...
Tuesday 13th December 2011 1:45 pm
An alabaster ceiling rose is ever so delicate,
a round swirling pattern that is a joy to look at.
It used to be white but now it’s all yellow
with centuries of grime and age old smoke.
People stop and wonder what went on under
the hanging lights, what was said, who loved
who and who dared to dance close.
Today the huge dance hall is empty...
Tuesday 6th December 2011 5:33 pm
Last stop before paradise.
An April rain has streaked the windows, smudging the view of suburban streets.
The chill breeze bends the spring’s first flowers and the TV’s showing old repeats.
In the lounge of The Willows nursing home the care assistants are serving teas.
After the adverts comes the snooker and ever...
Saturday 14th February 2009 1:34 pm