Poetry Blog by Rose Casserley
I was his tart
he always called me honey
he was soo tasty
the apple of my eye
and cool as a cucumber
but recently he frittered his dough away
on a souped-up banger
I thought he was crackers!
and told him I didn't think
he was using his loaf
that it was a bit of a lemon
the brakes were crumby
and there was something fishy
about the documents
not to men...
Thursday 1st March 2018 2:37 pm
she only has to say a few words
but they have the power
to bring a mountain down
or one final larger than life touch
of pen to paper
and the little story sets off down the runway
on colossal journeys.
At time she exceeds herself.
When looking for perfection
she can lift a tiny stone
and find the whole of heaven beneath it
and after demolishing
Monday 26th February 2018 8:08 pm
to loving tones
of Mother's voice
beyond her wall of flesh
slumbering your way into the world.
So many dreams and opportunities await
arranging themselves in ranks of readiness
for your arrival for your selectiveness
each one holding hands with time
the unwanted turncoat intent on withering
the opening flowers of your days.
Friday 23rd February 2018 11:57 pm
He continues taking the soul
out of all she offers
no matter how much she speaks to him
like tears in the eyes of a child would
He persists in allowing deception
to eat into his promises.
But no longer can she
permit her truth to be tortured
or standby watching him
walling himself out from himself.
In her leaving knowing
his forbidding of her
Friday 23rd February 2018 12:09 pm
she will not leave her murdered loved ones
and become one among many leaving
to wander dangerously aimlessly
she will not listen to the voice of fear!
Like an uncaged prisoner
like an enemy in her own land,
her future goes on darkening
being stupified by the rages of war
she truly believes
the history of her land
shall by the will of Allah be vi...
Tuesday 20th February 2018 10:59 am
I must turn my back on dreams
oh, and forget about all that might be but probably won't.
I have to be determined
and believe my own voice
when it says 'this is life'
though at times it can be trick-tested
into being made to say it isn't.
My insistence on truth
has to overwhelm any imaginings
and has to do away with gossamer words
Wednesday 14th February 2018 10:00 am
we've been separated
from a beautiful friendship
shared with so many here
and many more in his life
filled with his gifts of wit his wisdom
declares the cruel voice of time
and I choke on tears
says the harsh uncompromising
ever present claimant
and I sit cornered by sadness
listening to the whispering of a memory
Sunday 11th February 2018 5:51 pm
Tailing the week
this Sabbath day.
My Sunday morning lie-in
is once more being made to feel
like the actions of a disbeliever
by the disturbing 'get out of bed and come to Jesus'
spire hatted bells
clanging for all they are worshippingly worth
and devil denying family pods I know will be
shuffling in queues
towards the vicars welcoming limp wristed pale han...
Saturday 10th February 2018 11:04 am
Sunday 4th February 2018 3:53 pm
I've forgotten his name,
was it Jim Higgins?
I'll probably forget it again
but this so-called poet
was showing me
a crap poem he had written.
Meanwhile, some dude with spiky black hair wearing shades
and with a spiky black suited physique to match
came into the pub.
I had known Jim ( or was it Bill? ) on and off for years.
He was asking ...
Saturday 3rd February 2018 11:42 am
Thursday 1st February 2018 10:31 am
she was wickedly attractive
he was dangerously good looking
both dirty devil bedmates
eager players in the same
he was rock and roll ruthless
she was crude
their knife-edge reputations
went before them
life wasn't fast enough
they loved being caught up
in a different race
addicted to everything bad
like riders on a crazed carousel...
Tuesday 30th January 2018 6:41 pm
Monday 29th January 2018 11:07 am
damn those first apple pickers!
those disallowed tasters
those unknowing inventors
of the original sin starting blocks
from which humanity set off
most trying to outrace the other
as they did from the first day
and do now
yes, the race continues
but do the runners all have
the same versions of victory in their minds
and will the finishing line
ever be ...
Wednesday 24th January 2018 8:47 pm
composing poetry is like going on a journey, agreed?
a meditative privileged pilgrimage
albeit a not so easy voyaging experience of the mind
sometimes to the point of breaking or beyond
depending on the poet's skills and courage or the lack of
but no pilgrimage whether to
Trial City, Errorsville
or our most desired of all destinations
the lands of perfected imagination...
Tuesday 23rd January 2018 12:25 am
just when I need either of them
my Fairy Godmother or Godfather
those letdowns don't appear
to grant my wish for a return to excitements
of any kind
uplifting necessities to avert boredom
from greying its way into my life.
Mr Nothing and Mr Yawn
the tedious twosome drably parading
their miserable presences
past the window of my mind
like a ...
Sunday 21st January 2018 11:41 am
who gets in his own way
who makes his life darker and darker
who cannot stop the rot of his soul from setting in
who allows his enemies to live in his head
who thinks he is the chosen one
who is unable to stop worrying and really learn to love life
for he knows not how to put an end to his masochistic ways.
Friday 19th January 2018 3:06 pm
in fearful flight
from the shooters hidden
in the nearby riverbank reeds
wiser ducks have flapped their way
into the safety of my garden.
Twelve I managed to count
before my mud packed face at the kitchen window
sent them scuttling away through a hedge gap.
But in the distance,I can still hear the killing sounds continuing
shooting away for all they are (not) w...
Wednesday 17th January 2018 2:40 pm
always at family gathering's we used to love singing
about Bill Bailey who would never come home
or the unnamed somebody wanting to be shown the way home
because they were tired and wanted to go to bed.
And our frail old father sat there enjoying it all
a strong smile on his weather-beaten face in lieu
of those huge muscle's he used to carry mother up to bed with
Tuesday 16th January 2018 11:36 pm
I've googled up that rough-necked town
you ended up dying in
on the edges of a remote wilderness,
not unlike Dodge City
but without the horses
and probably only the odd good time gal for comfort.
Where the bracken surroundings veiled with dew-laden spider webs
and deathly silence waiting for a weak-kneed summer
you never lived to see.
No more shabby loneline...
Monday 15th January 2018 10:59 am
although I haven't a name for the bird
possibly blown off course
to its intended destination
now hidden in my garden hedge
probably trying hard to familiarize itself
with the chittering language of our homegrown species
I nevertheless have heard the most unusual most golden tones
it shares with them and my listening
that I can only describe
as being of such a soul-stirr...
Thursday 11th January 2018 11:33 am
Sunday 7th January 2018 10:29 am
we see them in all kinds of weather
the usual pin money earning male or female pensioner
staunchly holding the renowned sign mid road
watching over noisy nippers most times
holding hands with absolute rocks
that families build their futures on
commonly known as grandparents.
The yellow coated award-worthy symbol of defiance against old age
the guardian angel of the ...
Friday 5th January 2018 7:26 pm
I know a hill.
I see it often
in my shamed memory
a bloodstained hill
where on high
at the top of a centre-piece cross
the mocking sign
Jesus of Nazareth the king of the Jews
passed on by word of ancient mouths
visits my guilt on occasions
and reminds my soul
how very much
I must somehow go on trying
to kill that flower o...
Tuesday 2nd January 2018 10:57 am