Apathy
Electorate, looking out
was not what he saw.
He saw the Great apathetic.
Waves of passion crest in pubs
never reaching the ballot box,
falling far too short to give voice.
Fickle public,
present a point of view, then:
run and hide from those who could help.
He doesn't care, just as long
as there is enough apathy,
to keep him seated.
Monday 30th January 2012 12:33 pm
Trying Something New
It's been a while since I've hit WoL with anything and thought I'd come back and see what people are up to.
I've been trying out a new way of writing poetry in the 1st person. As it's not my favourite form of writing (i.e. writing about my own experiences) I've started with a character description and have written a poem from that character's description. So let's see what you think a...
Wednesday 26th October 2011 6:08 pm
Reviewing Poetry
It is something that I have been doing now for the best part of 2 years.
At least twice a month an envelope arrives on my doormat addressed to my pseudonym. Right at the moment I see the envelope I find more and more I am breathing a huge sigh (although not of relief). Contained within the unassuming brown packaging could be anything. Of late the contents of these envelopes has tended...
Tuesday 13th April 2010 5:41 pm
The Problem with Poetry...
...for me at least is how easy it is to get sucked into the various things you can do with it.
Don't get me wrong my poetry isn't world changing, but there is so much that we can do that is associated with poetry in some way. Up until last month I had loads of projects on the go, and now that my brief stint making an idiot of myself on stage as Laurie in Little Women is almost over (j...
Friday 5th February 2010 2:06 pm
The Knowledge - December
Last month I wrote a simple poem that I read at the River View....it was a prize poem. It went well with the exception that no-one got the answers right! So this month I wrote a new poem and made it much easier (or so I thought), here it is. The lines in bold are the lines people had to tell me the answer to. So can you tell me who wrote them (and/or from which poem they come)?
************
Ther...
Tuesday 8th December 2009 1:53 pm
'Famous' Last Words
This is the prize puzzle poem, as read at November's RVOM. It is created from adapted famous last words. There are 10 sets of famous last words, can you guess what they are and/or who uttered them?
******************
Last Words,
For most of us what will they be?
"What bus?"
"Ouch"
Or simply: "Shit"
And what of 'Famous' last words?
Of friends applauding when the comedy is over?
Going to sleep?
Of being b...
Monday 9th November 2009 1:55 am
Powerful Politics
Okay, so I've read this in many places and is my response to the absolute crap that our politians spew lately.
Powerful Politics
Fascist Faggots,
Fudge their Finances,
Failing an Unfulfilled, Frigid,
Electorate.
Easily these Eggheaded,
Egregious, Eediots,
Allocate Approving,
Bright and Beautiful,
Magic Money,
To Greedy, Gregarious,
Bloated Bigwigs.
Carefully, and Cautio...
Saturday 2nd May 2009 7:56 pm
'That' time of year
Well, that very annoying time of year is upon us and I'm writing/editing a poem that is exactly how I feel. Actually the poem below is written for two voices, a very happy and enthusiastic and a very grumpy and annoyed voice, guess which one is mine? It's not yet finished but should give you an idea of what I mean.
Herre it comes,
That time of year,
For Christmas Cheer,
Snow, Presents and Reindeer.
Her...
Sunday 14th December 2008 11:59 pm
My first published poem
I wrote this ten years ago and it was published in a collection called 'Future Voices from Wales'. As I've been browsing through my collections and other assorted work I thought it was time this (awful) poem came out from under the dust once more.
Books
Books are here, books are there,
How many types can you find?
Adventure, fiction, real life and love,
Sci-fi, comics and more,
Pick one up it'...
Thursday 27th November 2008 5:35 am
The Blood
[A little late for a Rememberance day poem but nevermind]
Upon a slab in every town,
Lays the list of honoured dead,
A silent and clean reminder,
Of the blood that once flowed.
A Monument,
Cold and Hard,
Like the bodies,
The bodies that rest in Flander’s Field.
That Monument,
It stands unnoticed,
By many, Un-honoured,
And the few who notice?
Do they remember?
The blood that once flowed?
The monument, though of...
Sunday 16th November 2008 3:12 am
The luxury of being a writer
I remember being told by one of my English teachers that 'Writers have an amazing opportunity'.
As writers we really do have something special. Many people wish that they could change their lives and have things the way they want them. When we write and then preform or see others perform we are doing exactly this. We are shaping a reality that does and is exactly what we want. We create our chara...
Monday 27th October 2008 12:28 am
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