It’s my last day.  I’ll never see the telephone cables, from the corner of my eye,

                        meshed together, look like crows’ mingling.

                        Or the

White sheets straggling washing lines, having a barney with futons; bent over balconies,

                        blowing in the wind, from the bellow of petrol station attendants;

who make rainbows on win...

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How cool is this!
New Year's Eve AND a blue moon!
Just in case it slipped your radar.
Happy New Year to You All.

CBT

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New Year

Its not all about the new and nothing about the old

Its really all about a story that’s always been told.

There’s  laughter and tears to be shed

There’s fire works  & champagne  before any talk of bed.

Its all about us and nothing about them

To worry about the world is far to crazy to pen.

 

From the loss of loved ones who we held so dear

To the chall...

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you make me want to buy a basque

to be wasp waisted

I linger by the lingerie

I need to get a negligee

and mules!

pink fluffy slip-on ones

to go with my painted toes!

and seven push-up bras

underwired and lacy

one for every day of the week

and all quite racy!

and perfume

a bucket load of perfume.

so we can drown together

in scent

and lace

and my cleavage!

 

 

 

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Hi there, all my fellow poets! 

I wish you all a Happy New Year and all the best for 2010!

Alain

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Having a shower after watching the News Headlines

 

It’s all about the 40th lime

And how I should rub my head with coconut butter

And every person wasting £400 of food a year

And other big headline claims

And I say

“Is that £400 of food from Aldi or from M&S?”

Who cares, it’s all cow pies to Desperate Dan

And it’s phosphorous bombs and child witches

And it’s Helmand Province and Hellman’...

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Myself, me, I,

Sat, sat-ed

Ran, runned

Remembered - failed to forget

Followed - failed to lead

Watched in watchedness

you, you

Run, runned

Away, gone.

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well this time

well this place

well this we

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The glass slipper is no good, neither is

the Fairy Godmother's wand, her spells,

the pumpkin, rat, lizard, rags, Stepsisters,

Prince and newly released Disney DVD.

They'll all superfluous.

What Cinderella wants is gold

but in the Kingdom everything's silver -

the clouds that consciously weep,

the glow of herring and mackerel,

rails marking the limits of disorder,

abandoned dust, ti...

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Ribbons unravelled

and paper torn,

unfolding ruffles from tissue

wrapped around a velvet pouch.

 

Unrolling reveals

a bed of woven silk

sewn in cotton threaded pearls

on which a silver sixpence lies

enamelled, timeless

currency captured for all eternity.

 

Reflections swallowed

on a carousel, spinning recollections

in the blink of an eye.

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                                                                        Sitrep

 

 

 

…………..Sunray this is not a civilian,

And sunray this is my sitrep!

 

 

            I can hardly contain my rage,

Could eat me a chinnook

All battered and hailed in bullets

                                                And fekk it,

No-one knows me,

No-one knows the ...

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As I walked around its edges

studying the crystal depths

the question haunted me

‘Was this really an oasis?'

 

It was, for sure

bright, dazzling, enchanting

winking in the sun like cut glass

blinding in its reflection

 

Skin dried, parched, wasted

like a child, I had crawled

walked, run to it

basked in its waters

revelled in its showers

splashed, jumped, gambolled

thrown handfuls t...

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There was a young poet named Stan
whose poems were not up to plan.
When asked why this was
he said, "it's because
I always try and fit too many words into the last line".

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Impeded

frustrated

edging forward

coasting in neutral

some minds playing

over past events

others planning or praying

others listening, talking, phoning, moaning

some going low speed

enough to read

some plotting, some jotting

 

Sometimes the way clears

or a joke is cracked

there is movement, there is laughter

there is

happiness.

 

It can be amusing or just

interesting

to watch...

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Trails I leave fingerprints in houses proof that I was there I leave love letters in postboxes to be delivered proof that i care
my poems i publish on the web digital thoughts for people to stop and read i leave paper trails, bank statements receipts of transactions for things i need I am of course more than the sum of my parts but leaving trails is an art paper trails, thoug...

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Silence surrounds us.

Wind whipping hair, sun shining down.

The trees a rustle in the autumn chill.

Yet still we climb, climb this hill.

Our laughter evades the pores of the earth.

Sinking deep into its burning heart.

A lark it darts, flying free and high

away from the shackles of fate.

 

Tell me, why cant we?

 

Horse harsh breath flies as the bag we carry fills with stones,

Picking ...

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Susan held that summer long

As long that summer was

A secret that enthralled the girls

Captivating them because

Love was such a wonder then

When innocently viewed

That Emily and Laura-Jane

So eagerly pursued

“What news!” they cried “what news have you?”

Excitement filled within

Those promenading afternoons

Of gently browning skin

Of barefoot days and carefree ways

When sisters shared ...

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THE LIGHT IS BRIGHT...

 

THE DARK IS NIGHT....

 

THE SEA IS DEEP....

 

THE RIVER IS SHALLOW...

 

THE SKY IS FULL....

 

THE GROUND IS HOLLOW....

 

THE MOUNTAIN IS STEEP...

 

THE HILL IS MELLOW....

 

THE MOON IS GLOWING...

 

THE SUN IS DIMMING....

 

OUR VERY EXISTENCE IS JUST THE BEGINNING....

(c)2009 jeff.w

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and my new plane art too! drawn while drunk in abbey pub before my open mic

 

DON’T MOCK FATE

 

When you think you have it all and you smile knowing you’re the king of your own little world, an empire of your own making made by you. You do something that separates you from this life of your own making and what you have – a house with a mortgage paid for by your job in the City, engaged to be m...

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This isn't poetry
and nor is it politics
it is neither and both,
political and poetical
because poetry is pretty
whereas politics is not
but let's see where it takes us
and maybe we will end up
in a better place
not poorer but richer
for the experience of both
poems and polemics
are but the transport of ideas
whose media are words,
words of love, words of hate,
words hope, words of trust
and faith in something
a l...

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A new year dawns as many before,
will 2010 bring what we ask for?
A peaceful future that all can share
with the wealthy showing that they care?

In my hopes as ever that would be the plan
for without compassion what distinguishes man?
We may have tools and brains to embrace
technologies to help the human race

But if those minds just persue all with greed
then we ignore those with more pressing need
For f...

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Liberty is unlimited expression,

Intuition followed by rightful actions

Escape from the grasped clutches of guilt and resentment,

Replaced by optimism and courage!

Loud and proud speech with a conscience,

Not listening to cynics who capture it!

Upmost best of your ability- not under scrutiny

To explain your declaration of independence in the face of adversity!


Break open the shackles- soaring self esteem

...

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An Old Poem:

Cracked sidewalks
follow the stampede
of the craze
of the holidays.
Rain drops as tears
down onto pavement
as the stampede
continues to gather
their gifts
and spend their generosity.
In all the midst
of the holiday spirits,
they never look down.
They never stop to see.
Here they go again,
frantic to buy
for those they love,
but what about me?
When they go,
all I will have
are the stain...

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They started a war - a war in my name

the truth - they had to bend it;

they tore out the heart of integrity’s soul

now who will come to mend it?

 

Attackers came forth from the land of the sand

with a plot that the West vowed to foil.

They went to off war in freedom’s name

but the sand was not free from the oil.

 

The men in the suits in the sleek Cadillacs

looked out to the men...

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I want to make a place

that is not of pain.

Built of life and built.

Not of earth

but of heaven

a shape of creation

built together

with spirit rubies

and other precious stones.

I cant explain

but I try to understand.

It is called .....righteousness.

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Sweetheart, you're black and blue
Sweetheart
From the things I've done to you

Now your dead arm swings loose
And your bruised eye won't open
Sweetheart
These things I've done to you

An evening among friends, descends
Now we're alone
Sweetheart
Now you start on me again
Buttons all pushed, again

You try to stand your ground
But I'll always shout louder
Sweetheart
Surely safer to just settle down?

Cower, out in the...

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I’m sitting here alone

in a dark and creaking house

I’m sure I heard something,

stirring inside sure not out

 

and I’m staring straight ahead

I’m trying hard to hear

that sound I heard just now

the one that made me scared

 

In a dark and eerie house

every sound is amplified

was that another sound

or was it just a little creak?

 

No, I’m sure I heard it then

again, it’s caught my...

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Sonya,I got your comic Christmas card •

In a bed-sit Santa irons red suits alone •

But I hear tom-cats screech in your back •yard

And Santa’s smile conceals an inward  groan.

For while you wrap  bright parcels,show good cheer,

Weave plans to please the young and innocent,

Under lock and key you store a secret tear,

And out of bottles ,pour your merriment.

 

When to-morro...

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I get it now...., You have to sell your soul, Just to make a bit, Take shit and hand ''the man'' your ass, While he rapes it, Fake it, Something like a serpant in the snake pit, Pretend to be a friend, But bite with pure hatred, Ive seen so many people selling out,in abundance, The concept of keeping it real becomes redundant, I often wonder what inspires the thought pattern, Of lifes ...

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As sure as back streets caked in snow

melt and go,

so the stapled cardboard box locks,

as too the  thumbs push further in

a thumbnail clicks.

Remember the time your thumbnail clicked

as cardboard panels stood their ground

 

the time you had that panic attack

nail bent back

just think: thumbnail bent right back. Snap!

It left a curved white line across

a keratin shell over soft blood a...

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In the 18th century the people of Easter Island worked hard

creating the statues that their information showed

were absolutely necessary for their future.

In the 19th century Easter Islanders realised

that statues were a useless waste of effort

and put all their energy into the obvious need

to worship the birdman.

In he 20th century the stupidity of the Easter Islanders

was obvious...

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PAAAARRRTTTTYYYY!

 

“Ey up owd lad, tha does look glum!” Peter said one day, (he’d spent a while up north near Leeds, that’s why he spoke that way.)

“What’s to do?  Tha’s sittin there wi a face like milkman’s hoss. I’ve nivver seed thee look that way, whatever ails thee boss?” 

His boss looked up, all ashen faced, a pallor on his skin, and whispered “Pete, I’ve had enough, It’s time I jack...

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Dirty Weekend

 

Chipped china cup half washed up

Rests in her hands

Forty a day smoker stains

Tepid tea sloshes down the drain

Sodden biscuit crumb remains

Glistening like fools’ gold

She never dreamt she’d be this old

And to have to start again

Without her man

Wedding vows aren’t worth a damn

I do’s give way to the big I am

Voices raised, fro...

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The Voice

 

How lucky I am to have my voice

With all its possibilities

I give it charm I make it sing

I can denote hostilities

 

How lucky am I to have a choice

To take this voice most everywhere

To express meaning, give voice feelings

Show my leaning when I dare

 

How lucky indeed to sow a note

And reap a song, when nature inspires

And good things conspire

The feeling’s strong

 

...

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We might evolve into a species

With wires from our ears

So we don’t have to listen

To other people’s noise

Now every man’s an island

And everyone’s divine

Cos we can disassociate ourselves

And live in Dreamtime

 

This isn’t really happening

We can block reality

Put your plugs in your lugs

And live in MTV

And if the conversation’s boring

...

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Tale from the North Country

 

As we crunched through snow together

In inclement Arctic weather,

I brought to mind an Old Icelandic song;

There’s a saga of the Viking

You need to heed when hiking

That “Pissing in His Boots -

Keeps No Man Warm for Long”.

 

Already you’ll be gleaning

A second, deeper, meaning

That short-term paths will, long-term, tu...

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'He's more rapist than harpist',
I joke as we approach.
We calculate the etiquette,
Of rewarding each wrong note,

I crack, and throw some shrapnel in his case.
The music stops, he lifts his face.
One useless eye,
Poking like a sea scarred stone on ravaged beach,
But ears that figure in a flash,
The sound of seventeen pence,
Cash.

Jx

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There’s a big fish at the bottom of Masvingo lake.

Old, fat, and ugly, it won’t be caught

 

I glimpsed it once, on the end of my hook;

Thought I had it, saw its cruel, fierce eyes

  

The fishing isn’t good in the lake.

The big old one has eaten almost all the others.

People still come to try and catch it

 

Maybe if the lake dries up

It will be found there at the bottom

Wriggling, squ...

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Happy Xmas Everybody

 

I love Christmas Day.

 

I’ve all my cards

on the mantelpiece,

a lot of them

from friends I can’t remember.

 

I’ve got my Yuletide ‘meal for one’

with a proper Christmas pud.

I don’t think anyone’s calling round today,

but I’ve some Marks and Sparks mince pies,

and a drop of sherry,

left over from last year, if they do.

 

The kids are all grown up

and live ...

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 I know his betraying hips

 

so well.

 

Every fluid twist and turn.

 

I watched him my sisters,

 

as a ghost.

 

Silent as the sand.

 

Undisturbed.

 

I ask you, where

 

did my reason go?

 

The day I saw his eyes.

 

Shimmering emeralds,

 

behind such hair,

 

black as kohl.

 

My sisters...

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Waiting For Christmas.

(Note:  I advise explaining the meaning of the word “undulate”: to move like a wave, before reading to a child.)

 

The cool of winter blows past my window,

The trees stand like pillared shadows,

The sun sinks early after school,

Soon it will be Christmas.

My sister and I run to the frosted bus stop,

Where iced leaves glint bronze and silver,

Then onto the bus and to...

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(I make no apologies for this slushy Christmas whimsy- I like Christmas , or rather my rose tinted view of it !)

 

 

Tinsel twisted,

twinkled tree.

Tresses glintling,

glowing lights.

Little smiles,

small hands.

Halls a bounty

Boundless love.

Loading stockings,

stuffing turkeys.

Tuneful carols,

candy kisses.

Kind hearts,

helping strangers.

Still nights,

nipping frost.

Fruity fea...

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By day the telesales cold caller
By night the g string, leapord king, hen party mauler
Ladies offer dollars
And like man parish he swallows
He has an oil over tan
Bought at JJB, beside the wanna be wag glam
Admirers made comments in infancy
They saw his little bits in the pram
Said he would grow up big and strong
Rightly so, he adequately fills his feathered throng
Watch them baby oil girls go
Dj puts on the...

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Sitting by the window pane, watching snowflakes fall setting peacefully upon the ground looking above to see a shining star twinkling so brightly in the heavens grasp feeling the warming sensation run through my body awakening feelings that was so deep I look around hoping to meet your gaze and your hands wrapping around my waist shivering as your breathe touches my neck and making me realise am...

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He could charm the poison out of fox gloves

and used his skills to quicken my heart.

I wondered what he fed on: frayed liturgies

and the secret dreams of women,

toxic spores translated into messages

of lust, slivers of the dank March sky

rolled up like pickled herring.

I never knew. He always skimmed me,

left me hooked on some potent pollen,

some sacrificial line,

some ...

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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...

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Once long ago I was lonely and felt that I was destined to walk life's highways alone.

I watched in sadness and despair as people met and fell in love but it never happened to me.

The times I cried and dreamed it could be me that someone loved and wanted, I cannot say because it pains me to think of those and dark and bleak days.

Then all that changed for SHE walked into my li...

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As delicate as a dusky rose, Her scent was just as sweet. Her laugh as bright as the day Golden hair shimmered like the sun.   I watched from afar A schoolboy caught And thrown into orbit Around her star.   I longed to reach out To touch the petals Of that rarest rose To savour every silken inch.   But I was young And fear gripped me, Stayed my hand And held me back.   If I w...

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What world do you live in where men don’t have minds?

You are blind to the fact you had a gem,

A rare find

I could slap him for being so damn kind

Coz I would have battered you down with harsh words

Shoved your pretty face in a bag of dog turds

After filling your sockets with seeds and have you balls pecked out by birds.

It’s not that you’re a slut

We’ve all played that game

A happ...

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One word...............so many emotions

A queue - for all kinds of reasons.

A child's enthusiasm to share a tale...............every last word.

Putting detail on an ornate carving.

The last coat of paint drying.

Grandfather trying to master computers.

The postman bringing exam results.

The corridor pace of the doctor with news.

The warm days of summer to return.

A broken heart to mend.

B...

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