Poetry Blog by Jim Trott
Another day dawned,
The sunbeams wrenching Lucille back into the land of the living.
A groan, a stretch and a chance fart heralded the day,
As the dust fairies spread their wings.
She reached for her stick,
Briefly recalling that Henry always used to bring it to her
Before he'd shuffled off,
One last time,
Fifteen months ago.
It hadn't been the first time he'd ...
Sunday 7th February 2016 8:13 pm
He often was seen holding court
In the corner of the wine bar,
Quaffing "only the best claret, m'dear"
His disciples took care to surround him
For fear of intrusion by lower beings,
Those whose social standing fell short,
And whose tastes were less polished, less focussed
And sup your brown ale
And new world wine elsewher...
Friday 5th February 2016 4:43 pm
For three score years
He'd lived within the same four walls,
And had paid them no attention.
Through their strength,
And his will,
Had been laid before his precious Rose
And their four madcap children.
Ne'er do wells
Each were repelled
From within those walls....
Monday 1st February 2016 8:09 pm
I live my life the way that I choose
Within a commonly accepted framework,
Both legal and moral.
My creeds are common sense,
Honesty and freedom of choice.
Am I consistent in my actions? Probably not,
But I try to do my best,
Keep myself to myself
And get on with living my life.
Is it necessary for me to set a good example?
Quite probably, but within na...
Sunday 31st January 2016 2:47 pm
Tom's body slumps
In his allocated chair
Which, over the years,
Had cradled many a bony backside.
His the latest in the queue
Of the soon to be forgotten.
His resigned expression
Hides a mind
Energised by the memory of
Childhood battles on imaginary castle walls,
Wooden swords and shields,
Of slaying the enemy,
Saving the realm
And returning home a hero....
Friday 29th January 2016 10:11 pm
Mrs Gwendoline Bowles
Lives behind the tenth door
Along Jubilee Terrace
In the greyness of Bury.
Her neighbours know little about her except
That she moved in last year,
And is always polite
With her "how-do-you do's"
And shy smile.
At ten every morning
She appears on her step,
Underneath a wool hat
Of sky blue and red.
With a basket she walks to the sho...
Thursday 28th January 2016 6:05 pm
In an instant his eyes flicked from left to right
And back again
As he remembered the last time he'd seen Nicole.
It was in 1969.
They'd met two years earlier
At a friend's party,
A chance gathering of two paths
Each leading to a different star.
He of the patchwork jeans,
The faraway eyes, and no ambition
And she with the short blonde hair,
Wednesday 27th January 2016 3:33 pm
He was a man of high intelligence
"Alphonse the Boffin" they called him
Though he wasn't a boffin
And his name was Raymond.
But they knew that, somehow,
He was different.
He didn't often socialise
Because he hated nonsensical small-talk
And the people who felt compelled
To play that game.
Rain is rain, sun is sun.
Who really cares?
Tuesday 26th January 2016 5:16 pm
Grace is awakened, yet gently,
By the cheery sound of the night-watchman
As he passes by her window, his work done
Below, the gas-blue flame of the street lamp slowly pulses.
Its unheard siren-call beckoning the powerless moths
To one final, carefree dance
And another day dawns
On Martha Street, London, E1
Slowly, Grace embraces the lingering chill night-air...
Monday 25th January 2016 10:24 pm
Aisha with beads
And her African smile
With sun high
Under Gamada's tree
A million dim shimmers
From soil baked to amber
Look on as Aisha
She dreams of the evening
Returns with his quarry
And together they'll eat
And how proud he will be
When she lays out before him
The beads ...
Monday 25th January 2016 4:55 pm