It's Poetry Darlings

[Black_Eyed_Sioux]

This is a thread for anyone to post their poetry. I shall kick things off:

Like A Thief

Cherry picking in the cement covered fields
Aisles a mile wide, and views second to most
I was sipping from my recycled mochacino coffee cup
And then you walked into my peripheral vision
A blur of reds and blues, like an amourous spectre

Smiling, I was dumbfounded by my own awkwardness
I could talk and yet I couldn’t utter a single syllable
What was worse was I could see your smile widening
As if you were enjoying the fact I was wholly bashful
It doesn’t take much for me to cry into my skinny latte

I said “hello” and you sat down next to me
On the cold marble seat that felt like it was melting
Under the extreme pressure of my sweat and body heat
You still weren’t talking to me and I felt more than uncomfortable
I can’t get through situations like this without a forty page guide

The second hand on my watch was painfully slow
The minute hand just going with the flow...the stifled flow
Speaking of stifled, my neck was red raw with collar rubbing
And my trousers were tighter than a gnat’s nethers
Finally I took the chance to get up...And you followed

Here I was, walking further into the concrete jungle
With you, the beautiful mute, by my sweaty side
I was beginning to feel less burdened by your presence
Then I turned and just looked...just looked into your hazel eyes
It’s wrong to some to kiss in public, but then...I’ve never been right

 

[Reelaround]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

I absolutely love this, it is just so right

I love it, and thank you so much for posting it

 

[[email protected]]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

...Here's My attempts at Very short poems......

Dole
I Signed on the Dole
I Sighed On the Dole.

Bird Flu.
There was an Outbreak of Bird Flu
.....Birds Flew....

Ode to Keith Chegwin.

Maggie Philbin Said to me
" I must be one of Lifes Losers,
I have to remind my husband that
Cheggers can't be Boozers."

 

[Hellie]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

...Here's My attempts at Very short poems......

Dole
I Signed on the Dole
I Sighed On the Dole.

Bird Flu.
There was an Outbreak of Bird Flu
.....Birds Flew....

Ode to Keith Chegwin.

Maggie Philbin Said to me
" I must be one of Lifes Losers,
I have to remind my husband that
Cheggers can't be Boozers."

Anyone that writes a poem about the legend Keith Chegwin deserves a ...they also need to see a shrink.

 

[[email protected]]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

Why Thank you Hellie!!!,

I have wrote loads of others ( I feel an almost insatiable urge to write an Ode to semi- legendary celebrities!!)...
But I will try not to Clog this page up with my Twitterings....
or maybe not.....
My Homage to the God -Like Jeremy Beadle NEEDS to be shared!!!
...I will go and find it, and put it here.......soon.....
Back Later! and Thanks for the thumbs up!!


here's an "Oldie", off the top of my head....
based on a TRUE story....( can't remember if I have posted this on Solo before...)

August 11, 1987.

Walking Past the Adelphi,
Someone nearly Bumped into me
"can't you look where you're going ?? Can't you see??"
fecking Hell!! It was Morrissey!!

My legs were shaking as I reached for my pen,
( I was standing Right next to the greatest of men)
And he said to me "Dave, It's one of Lifes Curses,
but I'll never Write lyrics as good as your verses"!!

 

[half a person]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

The Morning After Last Night

Suspended in morning,
She opened her eyes,
Sighed a musical sigh,
And saw his face
For the first time,
Brittle
In the sharpened light of passed through dreams.
Desire's deafening whisper
Dissolved,
And she longed
For the certainty of moonlight,
Last night was beautiful last night.

 

[john86]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

The Morning After Last Night

Suspended in morning,
She opened her eyes,
Sighed a musical sigh,
And saw his face
For the first time,
Brittle
In the sharpened light of passed through dreams.
Desire's deafening whisper
Dissolved,
And she longed
For the certainty of moonlight,
Last night was beautiful last night.

that was outstanding

 

[Our Lady]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

It's not, darling. It's not.

 

[john86]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

here is my "effort"


i was sitting on the toilet
trying to let the right one slip out
i was like a butterfly giving birth to a trout
how could i try to be relaxed
when i had been two hours in the jacks
the pain and the strain had taken its toll
for nothing had reached the toilet bowl.

 

[yesitis]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

It's not, darling. It's not.

what's poetry to you? mein kampf?

 

[Hellie]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

what's poetry to you? mein kampf?

I lol'd lots.

 

[Practising Troublemaker]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

Beneath The Sheets

Beneath the sheets
Is a dream so sweet that I can’t ever contemplate getting out of bed
For it is when I lay and rest my head that we are side by side, or so it is said
You’re the girl of my dreams or so it seems
For whenever I sleep into my mind you creep
And then we are as one

In some funny foreign land you took my hand
We walked east and then west and you lead me astray
But when I sleep you come and steal the night away
We laughed very hard and then we laughed some more
As we wandered along the golden beach shore
The water lapped upon our feet and the trails in the sand looked so neat

You once told me that if we saw a kite flying high in a summers sky
Then it would be our true love wavering higher than anybody else’s
And many times we did see a kite so red I forgot you were just a vision in my head
When we held hands and walked through the dark in the busy city park it felt like everything I had wished for was complete, in fact it was so complete and oh so sweet that I forgot that you are gone when leave my bed sheet

Then the sun begins to rise
And from your grasp I am prized
I wake in bed all alone and I emerge by myself back at home

To remove the sadness of your leaving me I take a walk and try not to talk
I head towards the rivers edge and then I sit down by the hedge
I argue many childish qualms but I know that soon you will be in my arms
And as a cloud disappears out of sight
It is replaced by one bright red flying kite
I smile to myself as though that is enough
For only I and I alone knows that kite spells love

It is approaching night now
And the church has struck quarter too
And so I go back to bed and onwards to you

Until Death Do Us Part

Woke up from dreaming of you last night
Now the sun breaks the bank of clouds, filling an empty room with light,
Images of lucid imagination come back to me, they slap me into shape;
Wearily rise to check I am still alive,
Black bird sings a song outside.

Days of our marriage came back last night
Stinging eyes fighting back cold tears, burning steadily into my mind:
- Sad to say that I still love you
Despite your departure many years ago.

Love PTxx.

 

[swansong]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

The Distance

There are miles between here and where you are –
miles of mountains, seas and endless air.
The silent distance spreads,
spans continents, unmendable.
I see you tanned by lakes, beneath fir trees –
freer than I knew, with people I don’t.
And it’s not that I’m wishing you trapped again,
just wishing you’d not gone so far.

My freedom came differently –
in words I could write and the people
they’d meet. I changed, but didn’t change location.
I carried on a life less adventurous, but not dull –
settled. No desire for escape. No pull
of the wild, like you, to fly away from here.


Map

If you listen, you can hear your own ghost
echoing beneath the syncopation
of this city: your inheritance.
There you are at seven, clutching your Nan’s hand,
awed, staring up at the Museum giraffe.
Twelve, surly with the promise of adventure
in other towns, then older again –
reconciled, laughing on Cathedral Green steps.

If you list them, you can build a map
of memories, the topography
of individual experience.
Layers, engraved over years, of you:
of you and all you’ve witnessed here,
forever implicated in these streets.

 

[biru]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

I have been on a writing block for more than a year and suddenly, today, after talking to my sister and being advised to let every word flow and then break it down into verses and whatsoever, I was able to write crazy amounts of stuff, be it poetry or not... here's one of the many I was able to write today.

"The Maker"
Limp bases in the corner of our eye
The kind that are not good foundations
at all – Yes, we know, from experience.
We may be young, bulging in our twenties,
But we adapt as children and also grown up’s
Never wanting, at any cost, to cease dreaming
Which is the reason we sleep in.
You ask us why so many times, here’s a brief explanation:
We are always angry but we laugh about being happy
And cry when we are just so terribly pissed
This about the lack of understanding that comes from others
who have, certainly, been our age and felt the same
Angry at their own laughs about being happy
and cried when they were just very much pissed –
As we are.
Now we ask you something in return – lend us your ears.
You can leave them on our study table, slap them on the floor
we just want to have the idea that they’ll listen.
That they won’t pick this conversation up again and again
for the next twenty years of our lives,
and they won’t talk back or smother us with knowledge,
saying ‘our school of life was harsher’
or even chanting the ever-irritating “Life is like that” phrase
Made to shut us up while they cook the most insipid dinner.
No dust, no fuss and you’ll get by well?
Have you erased your own youth from your memory?
We don’t want to get by well.
We feed on drama and complication – we are not done yet!
Give us another year!
Meanwhile, fetch us some psychedelic drugs,
Group sex (we’ll chicken out, I swear),
funky hair, the hippest clothing, the fiercest of shoes,
the ability to be geniuses, the opportunity to DREAM
and this calls upon another chance to sleep in.

 

[Black_Eyed_Sioux]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

I have been on a writing block for more than a year and suddenly, today, after talking to my sister and being advised to let every word flow and then break it down into verses and whatsoever, I was able to write crazy amounts of stuff, be it poetry or not... here's one of the many I was able to write today.

"The Maker"
Limp bases in the corner of our eye
The kind that are not good foundations
at all – Yes, we know, from experience.
We may be young, bulging in our twenties,
But we adapt as children and also grown up’s
Never wanting, at any cost, to cease dreaming
Which is the reason we sleep in.
You ask us why so many times, here’s a brief explanation:
We are always angry but we laugh about being happy
And cry when we are just so terribly pissed
This about the lack of understanding that comes from others
who have, certainly, been our age and felt the same
Angry at their own laughs about being happy
and cried when they were just very much pissed –
As we are.
Now we ask you something in return – lend us your ears.
You can leave them on our study table, slap them on the floor
we just want to have the idea that they’ll listen.
That they won’t pick this conversation up again and again
for the next twenty years of our lives,
and they won’t talk back or smother us with knowledge,
saying ‘our school of life was harsher’
or even chanting the ever-irritating “Life is like that” phrase
Made to shut us up while they cook the most insipid dinner.
No dust, no fuss and you’ll get by well?
Have you erased your own youth from your memory?
We don’t want to get by well.
We feed on drama and complication – we are not done yet!
Give us another year!
Meanwhile, fetch us some psychedelic drugs,
Group sex (we’ll chicken out, I swear),
funky hair, the hippest clothing, the fiercest of shoes,
the ability to be geniuses, the opportunity to DREAM
and this calls upon another chance to sleep in.

I like this alot...It feels like it's an amazing release of energy.

I wrote this yesterday:

Sandy Twilight

She shrieked as a crab pinched her supple flesh
I bit into her shoulder, more playful than hurtful
Rolling in the white grains, pure and soft to the touch
The water caresses the beach like a long lost love

The wind whispers in our ears, telling us no lies
The sky is turning a vivid orange, burnt by the sun
Foaming at the mouth, the sea crashes quietly
While we lay on backs to watch the stars appear

Topless and uneasy, I wrench over to your side
Sliding my hands around your beautiful terrains
I kiss your neck, like I was biting into a ripe cherry
Taking in the smells and the tastes as I go

 

[billybu69]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

...Here's My attempts at Very short poems......

Dole
I Signed on the Dole
I Sighed On the Dole.

Bird Flu.
There was an Outbreak of Bird Flu
.....Birds Flew....

Ode to Keith Chegwin.

Maggie Philbin Said to me
" I must be one of Lifes Losers,
I have to remind my husband that
Cheggers can't be Boozers."

Spike Milligan's not dead.

 

[[email protected]]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

Praise indeed!!! That is an incredible honour....Thanks....


Found My Jeremy Beadle poem.....( written while he was alive....).

Jeremy Beadle, please give it a rest.
As Bastards go, you're one of the best
Always on the telly with your practical jokes
Taking the piss out of everyday folks.

Jeremy Darling, Jeremy Honey,
Please F**k Off, 'Cos you just ain't funny
Wallowing in televised Misery
in a "Cack"- handed attempt at comedy.

 

[Our Lady]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

what's poetry to you? mein kampf?

I don't like Hitler...becauseHitlerwasanunderachiever. Very clever, though.

 

[Hellie]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

I don't like Hitler...becauseHitlerwasanunderachiever. Very clever, though.

If he had succeeded in over achieving it's doubtful Morrissey would have been given the freedom to sing his songs or for some idiot like you to sit at your desk and spout your crap here.

My Grandfather was amongst troups that liberated Belsen and what he told me he saw would not be classed as "under achieving".

You are a moron.

 

[Our Lady]

Re: It's Poetry Darlings!!

If he had succeeded in over achieving it's doubtful Morrissey would have been given the freedom to sing his songs or for some idiot like you to sit at your desk and spout your crap here.

My Grandfather was amongst troups that liberated Belsen and what he told me he saw would not be classed as "under achieving".

You are a moron.

Did he tell you his tales with the usual gaiety of a hired killer?
Not that I should have to explain myself, but the quote itself was not supportive of Hitler. It was, however, an expression of misanthropy, which I consider an ugly thing, but it does plague me. It's ever so comforting to know that I am now a 'moron', a pariah, if you will, because the likes of you, who had the audacity to use Morrissey as an example to change my opinions, cannot accept one for one's flaws. BUT I suppose that's to be expected, eh, pussycat?

You are a moron.