Poetry Blog by mike booth (life)
on A Prose Piece... (11 days ago)
What with all the omnishambles of Brexit, I got to thinking about what our national identity really is. When you think about it, we have some pretty bizarre national symbols, but ultimately what does it mean to be British / English, etc? See what you think of this...
Our national dish is curry, true,
Our Saint is George who dragons slew,
From Yorkshire field...
Thursday 18th October 2018 8:54 pm
My step dad, Robin, passed away a short time ago at the ripe old age of 94. An incredible man, he lived an incredible life, including working at Bletchley Park codebreaking during the war, putting out fires at ST Paul's Cathedral, living in Australia, India, Ireland and Scotland and writing numerous books in his role as a well respected minister and scholar. He met my mum again after 50 years, p...
Sunday 1st July 2018 6:45 am
Tell me, Stranger, tell me do,
What makes the world spin round for you?
What do you love, what makes you cry?
What do you hope, before you die?
Tell me, Father, plant a seed,
What path I follow, where you lead,
Give me compass, strength and plan,
To show me how to be a man.
Hold me Mother, sing me songs,
Give me rites for all my wrongs,
Tuesday 12th June 2018 10:32 pm
Been working on this for a while... not sure about it really, but see what you think..
Stu of the Steps
This is my pitch, here’s where I sit
Cardboard and cushion to keep cold at bay
Down steps from the station, just half way
Gives em time to see me, reflect a bit.
Not all the way down, hanging in there
Holding my own, keeping my space
Forgotten detritus of t...
Tuesday 8th May 2018 9:25 pm
The Body of Life
Don’t hold on to the cord too long
As the casket drops back to the ground
Listen and hear the blackbird’s song
As loved ones whisper all around.
Holding on can pull you down,
Time to let go with laughs and tears.
One life so brief now clearly shown
Should soothe all worries, quell your fears.
Suits new pressed in Sunday be...
Thursday 5th April 2018 4:28 pm
We don’t want to be alone…
But our deepest relationship is with our phone
Like a dog with a bone, checking the tone.
We swipe and we flick,, we tick and we post,
Poking, retweeting, who likes us the most?
We turn on the roast, we like and give stars,
But end of the day, do we know who we are?
This ain’t how it could be,
It’s wrong, do you see?...
Sunday 4th February 2018 4:57 pm
A poem about getting old... and staying young.
May I Never
I may never rule the world with theories so fine
May never run past Bolt, smile and duck across the line.
I may never meet Mandela, Obama or the Queen,
I may never solve all wars, or stop leaders being mean.
I may never reach a hundred, run for thirty miles,
I may never help the hungry, turn their cries to happy...
Wednesday 10th January 2018 10:33 am
The view from here is calm and true
The grassy steppes stretch out of sight
From plainness slowly dullness grew
From winning I have lost my fight
Life once sharper, numbs to bland
And feet sink deeper into sand.
The uphill struggle left me weak
Fingers bloodied, grip was lost
Each ridge ahead still seemed the peak
Life was stripped, I paid the cos...
Saturday 14th October 2017 11:36 am
Wrote this after a visit to Southern Cemetery... see what you think.
Grave Thoughts from Above Ground
They lie so quiet in the ground
While leaves and nuts fall all around.
The slanting sun, the shadows fall
The squirrels scamper, magpies call.
The shortest stories ever told,
Their lives in stone stand out in bold.
A middle name they won’t confess
Or all three ...
Friday 6th October 2017 2:14 pm