Poetry Blog by Adam Whitworth (2017)
Everybody knows it is best
stand still quiet while the rainbow lasts
seeing all times rapt in a moment
being slow to jump
to the latest distraction
from lines drawn out of fashion
everybody eventually retrieves
perfectly good heartbeats
long buried amongst all that's fit to dump
Friday 29th December 2017 1:31 pm
After naming shapes in the mist for so long
both in jest and in misery,
the onus is on us brief visitors who should
make ourselves clear and not a cloud in the sky.
As dark and dismal hours bring slumber
naturally too a sleep affords the dream,
one by one we arrive at not a cloud in the sky
rescued from seconds tic-tic by a radiant age.
No inspired jolt nor extra breath
Tuesday 26th December 2017 5:34 pm
Consider one in ages passed who didn't return
from a journey, nothing more known.
In the dark, in ringside seats,
legs dangling in a grand canyon.
What can we say of the person?
Having considered ourselves dead,
we may be better equipped to live.
Sunday 10th December 2017 9:32 pm
Something of the night is in the new day
the unconscious, a little darkness, mystery.
Approaching the table now I can see
faces ready to impose an immoral deal.
But shards of day must also pierce late gloom
those clear consistant lights we carry through.
In this way the tables are overturned
for every one upset a fair pr...
Sunday 10th December 2017 9:37 am
her eclectic deaths
tell of a spirit
atuned to renewal
a mark of the beast for every one
in mass graves covered well
never does she excuse the enemy
she diminishes the defeat
this scarred landscape to labour in
her aim a green butterfly field
those who come after peace will learn her ways
and so grey cells are reima...
Thursday 7th December 2017 12:00 pm
That's one small step hewn out of stone
a plinth for my reaching figure alone
Beckoning unto one who isn't here
as one not here beckons to me alone
One giant leap out of all proportion,
one size fits all I understand- am I alone?
To say it over and over with
flowers; poetry; with moondust or tears alone
Sunday 3rd December 2017 12:37 am
That's one small step turned to stone,
a plinth for my reaching figure:
beckoning to one who isn't here
as one who isn't here beckons unto me.
One giant leap, and unpractised,
one size fits all I understand
say it over and over with
flowers, poetry, with moondust.
Friday 1st December 2017 12:41 pm
my wish ing well dee per by night
the moon a pen ny tum bling in
through cease less re vo lu tions I
lay as un con scious on the floor
some one laid a coat o ver me
the old in tox i ca ted rogue
up to my neck sink ing dee per
I hoped to wake un a ware of
where I lay be fore the thick et
of par tic u la ri ty has
me pinned in place like a spi der
or fly on the web just to praise
Wednesday 29th November 2017 4:50 pm
I believe our skies hang heavy with stars
while watching treetop flocks lift into blue
moon walking at night it all makes sense
dawn's damp show how my watercolours bleed
now we are grown and there is no more
echo from any door slammed long ago
over and again I sift right from wrong
let you say once more they are all the same
Thursday 23rd November 2017 11:33 am
Who are they? Those who tresspass against us.
Why are they here? In the dream it is I
treading down silly wire fences
and it feels good. I follow
where only clouds can freely go.
In the dream all the people
who feel good are treading down fences,
pulling down walls to make bridges.
They feel good, being good.
They follow where harmless clouds roam.
In the dream I believe there are ...
Monday 20th November 2017 10:38 pm
There must have been a refuge
here we are, are we not?
Blessed refuge in time of disaster,
humble land reached at rising flood.
And the power of one blade of grass!
Reverberate long, our heaving hearts,
from dreadful days of drought.
Our histories describe us all as refugees.
Our wits or prayers confirmed
fleeing flames; sidestepping storms;
here resolution is built, ...
Friday 17th November 2017 10:58 am
Don't expect so much
if Sun puts beauty fair before itself
high into a sky of fading stars.
When is a windfall left to maggots?
On a morning like this,
don't expect too much.
By fair rivers giving up their secrets
easy as flying salmon- look who work
like bees, to outstare their hunger
any morning like this.
Breath betide breath, well
Wednesday 15th November 2017 1:04 am
(a meditation on the poem of the
same title by W.B.Yeats)
A woman, her love, is like a white
feathered one; far-seeing gull or royal swan
or more, for beauty, the tender dove,
entrusted to a vale swooped beneath the storm:
the furrow of a ploughed field below the blasts.
And there she bides, unnoticed, no-one has noticed
how long. As in her place as a stone in mud
yet, astounded, ...
Sunday 12th November 2017 5:19 pm
How much brass neck and bare-faced cheek
does it take to think you need not review
your beliefs and behaviour?
to stand just like those
with brass neck and bare-faced cheek
without uncomfortable embarrassment
is the problem
I have attended to the great ones
producing arguments designed
to lead to the promised land
but reviewing the day as it is
as it was left yesterday
Monday 6th November 2017 9:59 pm
Spun skillfully a milky way the net cast over the waters
one last sporting throw for all the world in slow motion
for the feast or famine guiding hand or chaos
it would seem a good idea further back-pedalling
read a hundred fictions delivered slowly
time suspended high in a cosy bubble
the net thrown finds its crux in a job well done
Friday 3rd November 2017 11:22 pm
I'll tell you a sad tale
so short with an abrupt end
of necessity I follow the tangent
to the pond without relish
for one lone goose dabbles at the edge
and flocks who bickered there have flown
I'll tell you of a dream
our goose with a set of mallards forms a nation
smaller coots feel bold among vigilant eyes
just as our protection once s...
Friday 27th October 2017 10:56 am
gems of poems practically no-one gets to read
(myself and, I'll believe, a couple of others don't count)
I wished they could be familiar among us
remembered and valued discussed let alone read
be careful what you wish for you said
(thinking, I believe, of religion)
a lifeless orthodoxy squanders
the spiritual hunger common to all
point taken I feel I should wander home
Wednesday 25th October 2017 11:14 pm
filling the morning
and all the grubs feeling
obliged to climb
through the unforgiving world
hammered into shape
the essence must be
swept up with inconstant winds
ghostlike on petals
yet roaming and away
made to share
Sunday 22nd October 2017 1:22 pm
sadly I return to ancient Greece
stand with artists and philosophers
let us speak once again
sadly because the law-makers
sculptors of the age
turn instead to imperial Rome
though the line of Athenian geometry reaches further
an emperor has declared himself a god
Monday 9th October 2017 12:08 pm
It's hardly a matter of going into the wood
more a matter of not leaving it;
children, stay away from the edge.
Hitting the concrete means death,
and should you hear the iron shriek
please move deeper if you can.
Our growing understanding
of towers putting trees in the shade
spreads a dread of becoming
petrified by the horror, and those unable
to return with ...
Sunday 8th October 2017 11:48 am
Aesop began mumbling a long time ago:
"Determined to care f o r
rather than care a b o u t"
similarly, the Idiot Soldier who ran through Archemides:
"having come this far"
Pliny The Elder:
"the public park in clement weather"
then also The Younger:
"where I count the blades of grass"
the Pied-Piper, if he ever existed, would surely add:
"I must count them"
and King ...
Friday 8th September 2017 12:42 pm
They are poor old creatures washed up from the sea
-best not look- or might they be waiting...
who can say... the last word of the comedy
to hurl themselves through the waves, and end it?
Either way nothing to do with us.
One tries a word-search puzzle, one drifts off in the shade.
The ebb and the flow
a gentle tide plays.
We accompany ourselves with gr...
Wednesday 30th August 2017 10:16 am
WHAT on earth is that in the mirror?
One day he sees a chained slave
the very next a crowned king
next day...who can tell the heart of love's creature?
It is his truelove who keeps his heart
and she who shows wisdom
putting by a little as seed-corn
where the grass is always greener
and no foot treads.
There out of sight a spring pure
and clear begins to bubble
Saturday 26th August 2017 3:12 pm
From any angle you'd make a painting
where there is a lake in the woods
and when the drought comes and the lake is dry
stroll slow over to breathe the dust
nothing is likely to disturb your soul
where your lake lies low in the woods
beneath a gathering in the treetops
recite the old verse through the hush
From my position the sun is hidden
reclined by the lake in the woods
Wednesday 16th August 2017 11:30 pm
Twigs snap in the woods
a beginning for any poet
within the likes of you and I
but the poet is idling
unrelated episodes by the hundred-
weight, light-hearted; rivetting;
don't make up a life
poetry concerns itself with life
monkeys have sensed smoke
guessed at its cause, investigated
and raised the alarm
yet the poet loun...
Sunday 13th August 2017 1:01 pm
We view the prospect before us
with the uncertain mood of our weather clutching
all kinds of lucky charms in shallow sleep
we stormed away from the mainland
now all our fingers are crossed
that we don't wake up up
to our necks in deep water
Our seers are forecasting like mad
but who can really see around corners
no-one here would like to
find themselves adrift in a slo-mo crash
Monday 7th August 2017 7:35 pm
It worries me not I seem a scarecrow
only the odd wind fluttering my suit
sunsets I've seen at the old riverbank
and faraway lights on the other side
colour draining slowly from the landscape
when day ends his project and turns away
in the gloom melancholy is mine yet
the very next day I'm inclined to paint
Saturday 5th August 2017 1:20 pm
I vote with my feet
carrying the creature
from the sterile house
to a living environment
those like me who capture spiders in a plastic cup
to take them out of the house
make one great group in society
another great group has other ideas
and so society is split
we move through the same space
like thoughts in a head
Monday 24th July 2017 10:56 am
What is it about these streets
I walk every so often?
I could be anywhere in the land.
I could believe these were the streets I grew up on.
The pause of deja vu sameness must mean something;
why the feelings raised to intense?
Is it just the acknowledgement
of connection with other people? just here
I could believe we're all the same:
putting the same stuff into the same bins,
Friday 21st July 2017 1:31 am
Ship. Oh Ship.
You have no rudder.
I know not what to do.
Neither do I
have an anchor,
deep, deep is the blue
There are no lights
to show the coast.
Who will lead me through?
A dark moon
lies wrapped in cloud,
deep, deep is the blue
I shall have
a tale to tell
with the dawn in view.
The hole in
my keel grows wider,
deep, deep is the blue
Then so long
as I l...
Wednesday 19th July 2017 1:50 am
You love it for its short life-span
not a statue you'd pass a hundred times
then look up and notice
but imagined light painting Rothko
on eyelids warming up for the day
and Dawn heard giggling
in the hushed approach of rain
-or so the distant peep of a whistling bird insists
you just strive to keep the dream whole
but grateful again your pen is put to paper
Monday 17th July 2017 1:19 pm
When all the animals that could leapt up
to play our icons of virtue,
and all the animals that could dived low
that each might rise again at will,
the lapwing turned to grass and her eggs stone.
Through her field we stroll unaware.
Like thunder enraged beasts colour the air:
all-round heroes of Aesop.
I am the invisible one, my call
a ricochet of the north wind.
Monday 10th July 2017 4:52 pm
When dawn comes round
in the treetops.
Locked in dreams we are insects in amber
as surrounding manors declare themselves
before a wing has tried the air.
Long we enjoy a certain latitude.
Who fares ill, who fares well
-may indifferent masks burn
little chaps with big ideas will tell
who is itching for change and who remains
stragely cool or blase.
Sunday 2nd July 2017 11:16 am
Allow that the least atom may be separated from all else:
this was my position.
Darkness, or rather nothingness
in every direction,
and every second identical.
As my fears that I must be asleep, drugged, dead or worse
shrank like stars of the morning
I knew their fate to be like mine
and emptiness, darkness or nothingness
was not really so bad!
It was now I saw as if with eyes
Wednesday 28th June 2017 10:56 pm
The sleeping world responds to visions
with the slightest movement, and that is enough.
In hibernation the bear feels a cub
safe in her embrace and thinks no further.
The sleeping world weaves a moral sampler
layer on layer: a tangle with no end
"...the organised narrative is the orphaned child of a wish..."
colliding, ever-dying echoes illuminate a moment.
The moment's prayer to las...
Tuesday 27th June 2017 9:29 pm
the dying term omnibus suits better
but let that be-
having right of way,
Passing faces occupy
the stream of changeful feeling
suitable for drama on wheels:
anger frets by nameless sorrow,
saintly patience breathes...
silently beside indescribable love.
Humour writes in dust, joy stands by pain.
These disciples of the clear exp...
Sunday 25th June 2017 1:09 pm
Here is a sneezewort
grateful your crazy-paving's cracked.
Determineded by sun, determined by rain.
your light words drift over us both
(who naturally heed not a word)
a few notes on the old piano sketch
avenues of heartache, or belonging.
Of magic? Maybe. No more than a hint
of choux pastry scent by the garden path.
This way a sneeze...
Wednesday 14th June 2017 8:40 pm
The day has dawned and darkened,
there is a comet in the sky.
Hast thou, firmament, then harkened
to one troubled soul's cry?
Figures on the temple steps;
some statues, some moved
by a maddened God or thought's hand;
helpless as domed rooves snap off
and tremors all around
bring structure down to earth.
Red brick rips from blue brick
thus body-parts, vicious-jawed dinosaurs
Tuesday 6th June 2017 7:23 pm
In a land lost in silence I recall
the weak and poor creatures safe in my hat.
My idealistic heart, like yours, was pleased
to be crawling for crumbs to feed them.
Where do such abandoned poems point us
when at the last line we all fly from here...
Sunday 4th June 2017 1:23 pm
If things were so spun that I
dressed my lady I'd gaze on an Aztec princess.
A summer's warmth her eyes radiate! Jade and gold
catch the light. Charms and tokens of love
sparkle in earnest. Silks and feathers shimmer;
bring motion to emotion in my view.
For my life as backdrop I am ecstatic.
This is the picture to die for.
Back here in this flat world, England 2017,
Monday 29th May 2017 3:51 pm
Paint us now a heavy horse
pulling through the mire.
Sing the praises of our land
plough beside proud spire.
See her clear- the misty dew,
time's own ghost of white.
Alight her here nearer still:
lone owl of the night.
Leave one girl in her spring best
leant upon a gate.
Held in twilight reflection;
our own fine day grown late.
Tuesday 23rd May 2017 8:37 pm
seeing a shaver across the street
a step and a style his own
I stumble at the power of resemblance-
he could so easily be our Daniel.
And here I buckle, stabbed once more
for I realise my mistake:
Never again can I greet Daniel. Yet,
I'm almost raising my arm
crying across, hello.
Thursday 18th May 2017 1:20 pm
How do we compare with
these figures of myth: the man, the woman?
They are conjured from a whirlwind
yet their hair is immaculate,
and while hunted by demons
they keep their languid stride.
They may not ever understand one another,
but agonised quests lead them to meet
and there, faraway, make their pact.
Alas, none has found the power to return;
to enlighten ...
Tuesday 16th May 2017 9:17 pm
The guitars roared like jets, just ask Mark.
The guitars quacked like ducks- ask Maria.
Don't ask me since I have cut my hair,
long nights were too short, we all agree there.
The wine poured in like a river, just ask Julie.
Money straight through boney fingers- ask Linroy.
Don't ask me for something to share,
long nights were too short, we all agree there.
We talked like inspired guru...
Monday 15th May 2017 12:49 pm
All for one surpassing flower
I'll sing a thousand songs;
I'll let the minute roam the hour,
the whole wide day beyond.
Here I'll leave the bloom unshaken,
my heart a ready vase;
until all my breath is taken
and shared among the stars.
This much- the imprint in the grass-
where I have stood so long,
let harmless twilight come to pass,
there is the ...
Sunday 14th May 2017 11:57 am
It happens we meet late in life
The suspicion is an onside Sun leaned in
a few paces closer this day,
ensuring our faces glisten
in a good light- how could we say?
We are without claws to catch the promise
Certainly we may
refer to a spectacular blue sky,
as all clouds are urgently called away,
should passing juggernauts threaten
the suggestion of a grey day.
Basking in our c...
Sunday 7th May 2017 4:34 pm
I drift to the moon, resting oars
above deep water, floating miles above
critters that skitter about the seabed.
As good a place as any to think.
My hand aches to snatch rare berries
from a privileged babe, coddled
child of piracy and injustice sure
to further tresspass as his seasons turn.
But I have two hands; one closed, one open.
One is hard and one is soft and
one must work ...
Tuesday 2nd May 2017 5:10 pm
Under my pillow the whispering heart of Simone Weil
expresses sweet love better than I could ever hope to.
Please don't wake me only to face the day empty-handed.
Under my pillow beaks Mozart among the nightingales;
sweet message of the soaring song at last loud and clear.
Don't wake me for surely I will come away with nothing.
Under my pillow the fierce red eyes of the ...
Thursday 27th April 2017 12:53 pm
I am here to enjoy this window's view,
in strange light a madly mossed hideaway.
One robin one wren contrive to call
but they unsure of solitude take flight.
I am unwilling to exit so fast
finding a mossed pebble tight in my fist.
At any one of many thousand such windows
in our hodgepodge of tumbledown walls
what might not emerge from seclusion?
By upheaval of thought withou...
Monday 24th April 2017 12:09 pm
The castle is perfect- it is a ruin
and the wave is called back to the sea.
Refill the moat that sinks into the sand,
the first star is out to see-
the spiralling path of an effortless wing
take the day away.
How long can they possibly lay there
content with clouds? They disappear.
Rush with intent, splashed from the bucket,
the wind is getting up.
Friday 21st April 2017 10:37 am