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`

Raise again this chalice,
fearsome and seductive;
that brims with venom
and sparkles with promise

that in the twilight beckons...


Raise this goblet
to once satin lips
now runnelled with
bypassed dreams,

you hope but hope in vain...


Gulp down your fill,
wait for forgetfulness still;
let the dregs of this cup
caress your wearied mind,
...

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Beneath the biscuit-bitten moon of dawn

Something’s coming.

There’s a hint of something unknown,

unprecedented enough that even the howling wind has flaked

To something spider-thin;

To the bare wire frames of lyricism.

Since then, the sky has darkened.

And static has started to  skitter across asphalt and window-frames.

L...

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FOREVER POND

Gonna jump into the pond in my garden

down towards forever.

I see it crystal clear shimmering

like the very air on a winter’s day.

Love hearts stuck onto fragile flesh

mark my passage but yours is time,

stands time, as water flows and light sparkles

as distance is unwanted, direction is unknown.

On my way to you, wonder idly,

are ...

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The video of my Poem 'Our Silence', my hand print and my Book 'Whispers From Within' that will be placed inside the Child Abuse Monument in Canada, is featured front and centre on the StoryProject page, on the Child Abuse Monuments website. My work has been recognized by them before, and by the main person who created the Monument: a Dr. Michael C. Irving. I was also asked to do a little video ...

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ORBIT

One million hearts speak as one; I listen to the solitary one who cries out in eloquent despair. That single wounded heart will claim me by her right and ensnare me and save me from me and I’ll never break it. She’ll bring me happiness after years of sorrow. Her name is?

Rockets are for the benefit of the human race taking us to the stars or for the worst, blowin...

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manchester band blouse did gig in hare n hounds pub uppermill 11/9/11 i did this poem before their set, i filmed it but my vid camera is a cunt and has no sound on it. whos the tit lol. look up gothicpoodle on youtube for the vid. im not posting tue link as its fucked. simple as. fuck it. better using the camera on my damn fone next time...

SOMETHING

I saw something in the sky out beyon...

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SHEFFIELD GIRL

She is the girl from Sheffield who turns heads wherever she goes.

Her name is Anne and she is a uni girl, into bands and cheap student beer.

I met her on the bus while she was going gigging; she invited me along

and away we went to see the next big thing. At that moment I knew she’d

be mine, this raven haired girl from a foreign place unknown.

...

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MEN AND MACHINES AND GIRLS

I want to die in a machine and get my limbs crushed and my blood thrown upon burning metal and to die, to die, TO DIE!! I don’t fit into this world, no day job moving shit brown boxes from A2B in a warehouse, no long term girlfriend to love me and be there for me when I feel down, few real mates to back me up balls to the wall.

See on TV speeding bikes w...

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TAT

Each tattoo tells a story in ink to its owner, not just as a picture. Men in the pub ask me on them, what they mean, who did them and why? Different types of needle work, colours and styles all combined together to create my masterpieces.

Thousands of pounds spent on permanent designs upon my body. From my favourite band The Gathering, they've not heard of them. As I nev...

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This is an older poem that was written when I learned that women who rolled cigars would hire a man to read to them why they were rolling.  I loved the image and the poem started there.  I also like the title, because cienfuegos is translated as a hundred fires.  Enjoy.

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THINK
Do you want to renounce violence against other people on a personal scale and on an international level, where countries are bombed and shelled? This isn’t good, people are injured and die. Think what happens if I hit someone and kill him with one punch, this does happen. If a mortar falls and kills a dozen people in a busy market place.
What does it solve? Each person has a relative ...

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`

If sticks and stones can break bones
and bombs and guns can kill
then a poet's pen and words can likewise murder
but heals wounds in its sublime expression;
Our differences fade with each line of verse.

 Hence,

Being read, and quoted, and handed out!
That is the poet's true reward.
On shall poetry live, and within its soul
the poet in whose...

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GROAN

He worked in a job but was laid off; gone was his posh life style relegating him to living in his car. This was ok at first due to the air con, reclining seats and ciggy lighter, along with stereo and roomy interior.

Outside it was spring so it was nice and warm, not too much but enough to be pleasant; what would the high heat of summer be like or the frigid cold of winter? Would ...

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pagan poem

CIRRUS

What will it take for you to give a damn? To give instead of to take? Instead of taking and raping the, our, world of her resources, you decide to do an about turn and care for our precious planet. Not to turn the clouds black with smog and car exhaust fumes, no more acid rain in her lakes and rivers. No black seas and polluted beaches full of oil from a so calle...

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THINK

Do you want to renounce violence against other people on a personal scale and on an international level, where countries are bombed and shelled? This isn't good, people are injured and die. Think what happens if I hit someone and kill him with one punch, this does happen. If a mortar falls and kills a dozen people in a busy market place.

What does it solve? Each person...

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`







if we looked at history
on a multi-plane spreadsheet
and compared the goings on
in each particular era
we shall find that at any given
period, no matter the advancement
there inevitably at a cost lay revealed
atrocities, genocides, discrimination
prejudices, and a lack of conscience
that marks the brute in humans
poets have also been present
ever a...

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SOLSTICE POEM

On this day I thank my Pagan Goddess of Mother Nature for this moment for us to all be on this hill top closer to you. The longest day of the year is your day and we join here with you to complete the circle and form a union. Let your positive energy heal and protect us on our journey through the year. Join us in celebration as we think of you, Mother Nature on this day. You a...

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUBJkXsGWlc

DESTINY CALLS

Rising higher and higher the warplane climbs

through the hazy sky, sun reflecting off the distant water

far below through a gap in the clouds.

Missiles hang under delta wings

ready for instant launch when an enemy

is spotted across the distant sky.

An inhuman machine with the looks of a goddess

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I did not have live video footage BUT I did do an audio recording which I put to video to share easlily (as usual). I read 'Within ther silence', 'The emptiness of hunger', 'Blooming Vera' (all from my book 'Whispers From Within'), 'Little Beggars' (a new poem) and 'The Missed'.

If you want to find out more, please visit either www.thepoetjohn.com (if its my writing only you want to see) or...

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The Heavy Hands of Time 

For youth

The clock rarely has hands

For the middle age

It has hands

That starts to spin

Too fast

And for the old

Time weighs heavy

Like all Burdon

Knowing that

Most of your time

Has now gone

Watching the youth

Wishing too

That your clock

Had no hands

To spin so fast

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outside the window,

an ocean of poppies,

red like denial.

she watched them day-in-day-out,

from sunset to the first shards of sunlight

which crept through their stems

and reflected the underside of their petals.

from this she saw veins, a tiny network of

lines like join-up-the-dots,

a motorway map

thin like emotion.

dadd went to war ...

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The Missed

They went missing on...

There could be so many dates

And even more names...

I cannot imagine

The pain

Of those families, long nights

Looking at the door

Hoping for a loved one...

To walk right through

As if

Nothing had ever happened

Looking out the window,

At passers by

A glimmer, a hope,

For them to return home ...

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The World of Silence and the Silence You Shame

The world is full of abusers
The minority are here to be abused by you
Mustn’t disobey
Mustn’t tell
Or you will be abused by others
In the name of
Love, care, help or treatment
It’s not the real abusers
That create the worse reasons to be silent
It’s you and what you do
That creates the world of shame and silence
I must...

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'Lifer'

My crime was being born

For which they punish me for

Yet it is the one thing

I cannot feel guilty about

It could not be my fault

Being born was not my choice

 I obviously was not here

When that choice was made

Yet they punish you for it

Just like everything else

That they do

We are punished

For their crimes and sins

We carry ...

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The Ranting Post

It’s a rant
A post that’s down
Well this post might seem a bit down
But it’s the truth
Recent cases of child abuse
The result for the abuser
The end result for the abused
The never ending result for us
Same old, same old
Like me, like us, like them

You could write a poem about it
We have
You could write a book about it
We have
You could make...

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This was held on the 7th August in Trafalgar Square, London. I read out my poems 'Someone Once', 'Familiar News', 'Within the silence', 'So sad WAS I', 'It was silence NOT defeat' and 'Beyond the silence'. This video is thanks to 'Truth and Hope's YouTube channel (one of the rally organizers). I would like to thank both organizers 'Cross of Change' and 'Truth and Hope' for making sure the event...

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‘The Rock’

I crawled from under a rock
To be here today
It seems so harsh to say
From so very far away
From my comfort zone
My rock, my home
I was only doing what you wanted
You wanted me to be seen
And not heard
You know it well enough
So it’s not so absurd
But to you it seemed
so easy
You could block me out
Easy peasy
But every now and then
The others heard...

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Due to health issues and more it is difficult for me to travel out and about, but I make myswelf do it. Its very important t me to spread the word and let others in my position see that sometimes we can do it. 1st May I appeared at The Camden Eye. This was my forth time at this RRRants run event. Like I was saying it takes it out of me, but not enough to stop me arranging to do more, thats the ...

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Im off to London soon for the long journey to read some poems at the Camden ey. Its a RRRants run event. Starts about 7.30pm Im struggling with health BUT still keeping it together. Not sure if I will have footage of this one, we'll see. Heres some from January 2011.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fy6dQhBpmYg

To find out more visit either www.thepoetjohn.com (for more about my writing) ...

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‘Blooming Vera’

Oh Vera
Your soft clear voice
Tells of the white cliffs of Dover
That all shall see
When all this war is over

Oh Vera
Do you remember when
You told us
We will meet again
Don’t know where
Don’t know when
And though many
were laid down to rest
Best of this Island
From you
Oh God bless you
From us
You still hold true

Oh Vera
You s...

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‘But a man’

If it were, for only birds to see
Through skies, far and wide
Then would we not want to see
Through birds eyes?

If it were only for the horses to gallop
Distances far and wide
And only our limbs could take us there
Could we take that, in our stride?

If it were for only fish to swim
To cross oceans, rivers and waters full
And to sink to their depths of ...

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'She said / He said'

She mocked me
With full intent
Her tongue like a razor
To slice right through me
Attack! Attack!

“This is not Poetry” she said
“It doesn’t even rhyme”
As I turned to her and said

“By your command...
But my inner self
Is not on demand
It’s not as fine
As the grains of sand
But also... not so bland”

She turned
Just like her look
S...

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'The Art of Being Lonely'

Loneliness is Ugly...

Loneliness is a world full of people
Yet still being alone
Loneliness is a room full of people
Close
But never could be further away

Loneliness is finding it hard to say
“I am lonely”
Loneliness is not to be shared
Loneliness is the sharing of it...
But to still be lonely

Loneliness is in an over populated world
...

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‘Dead Poets’

They killed them.
They revived the ones they loved
And made dead ones of
Ones they didn’t even know
They mocked the mocking birds
Oh I know it sounds absurd
I thought I was ok
You see
I’m a writer first
But they soon righted that
Lucky I’m not a poet
Poetically I’d be dead
I got this stuff in my head
Sometimes it comes out
I write a story or two
G...

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This next piece is from one of the only times I rang a helpline (the Samaritans). It to me expresses the difference helplines can make, and raises awareness of them. Check out the video on my accounts of it too. Its due to be published in the next RRRants anthology.

'So sad WAS I'

I dialled a number
A soft voice spoke
And talked gently
I spoke tentatively at first
But the...

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'The Unwritten Poems'

But that my pen
Wouldn’t speak
If I could tell it so
But twas I
Who wouldn’t let it
Oh if I could read you
All the unwritten poems
Of those other poets you know
I would have words
For every moment of the day
And no moments enough
To begin to say
What those poems...
So wanted too

Copyright John Harrison 2010

Video on YouTub...

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'Devastation'

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`

On a hand-hewn pedestal

imagination coalesced;

on milk-white face alight

eyes sparkle with a liquid flame.

Some build ivory towers,

these hands raw from driven labour,

on scratched cheeks a stricken eye

ransoms a sculpted orphan dream.

Across time and Middle Sea

another calloused hand chiselled;

laughter on a pine-white...

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Recorded live on Soundart Radio.

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`

when the clack of keyboards cease
and pages of unbound books
scattered by the indolent breeze
produce a melancholy dirge

think of all the unwritten words
that remain stillborn in the mind
much like the gilded pheasant
out of the snare and into the fire

 

`

Please make your response or comment on my profile page. Thank you.

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You make stories your clever

you bind the lines together

stories written last forever

we are making stories its fun

stories that make us whole

stories that make us one

we make stories from day one

everybody has a story to tell

from the birth of the earth

to the gates of heaven

to the depths of hell

everyone has a story to tell!

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`


a grated gate by midnight's light
once fell upon a sorry sight
as rain washed out the scarlet stain
the skies bowed down to hear the pain

a voice without a body heard
the sordid tale its waist did gird
one witness found, torn leaf by leaf
Creation's glory sank to grief

a tale no word was writ nor said
into the ground the silence bled
a soaked and orphaned qui...

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