Poetry Blog by Jon Stainsby
Tags from last 12 months
Fire
The smoke smothers,
forms a solid screen.
The fire frantically fights
for its existence,
twisting and torturing
the air around it
like a dictator leaving
nothing to chance.
The flames writhing,
and rising in their
hot blazing dance.
Friday 13th March 2020 10:44 am
Thinking of you, mum
I watched an episode
of some tv show the other day,
an old lady passed away
while people looked on.
It reminded me
of the day you died,
not so old,
you were still so young,
too young to die,
too soon to leave us,
and I remember
being by your side
watching your body
makes its final fragile moves,
your breath was weak,
and the weakness won.
I cried, an...
Tuesday 10th March 2020 1:53 pm
Myopic Hordes
The cracked ice was a sign,
an unnoticed warning
of the dangers ahead
but no one heeded it,
ignored it and
were blindly fed
by the cyclops' hand.
Nobody saw the distance
as so great and
the myopic vision
you foretold
was gathered unseen
by the hordes
running wildly
to their demise.
Friday 7th February 2020 2:43 pm
You are
A heavenly body are you
with your silken wings
and your golden hair.
A steady ship are you
with your strong bow
and your billowing sail.
A strong tree are you
with your skyward stare
and your deep rooted tail.
A beautiful creature are you
with your celestial smile
and your gossamer veil.
An ephemeral star are you
with your breathless frail...
Monday 20th January 2020 10:46 am
Un-nation
The flags fold in on themselves
and the nations give way to earth,
boundaries disappear as quickly
as they bureaucratically appeared,
and the land remains the same,
and the people do not alter.
The flesh and bones are unchanged,
to no-one else are we tethered,
a murderous group are we all,
killing our own, for what gain?
Friday 10th January 2020 7:37 am
Death of cruelty
The cruelty of the world
has defeated me once more
but the war still continues
this battle only evens the score.
Prevailing winds at my back
will assist in retreat
but the return will be stronger
with my swift wingèd feet.
Those craggy rocks of hate
split and break off overhead
but my quick agile mind
will render them dead.
Too late to hesitate
...Friday 3rd January 2020 6:59 am
Recent Comments
Jon Stainsby on Fire (Wed, 18 Mar 2020 02:02 pm)
Jon Stainsby on Fire (Mon, 16 Mar 2020 08:42 am)
Jon Stainsby on Fire (Mon, 16 Mar 2020 08:40 am)
poemagraphic on Fire (Fri, 13 Mar 2020 05:28 pm)
jennifer Malden on Fire (Fri, 13 Mar 2020 04:50 pm)
Jon Stainsby on Fire (Fri, 13 Mar 2020 03:05 pm)
keith jeffries on Fire (Fri, 13 Mar 2020 12:45 pm)
Jon Stainsby on Thinking of you, mum (Fri, 13 Mar 2020 10:58 am)
Jon Stainsby on Thinking of you, mum (Fri, 13 Mar 2020 10:57 am)
Tom on Thinking of you, mum (Wed, 11 Mar 2020 10:57 am)