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Having noticed a few profiles that refer to poetry I thought it might be a good idea to have a group in  which we could share or comment on each other offerings or just discuss the subject of what often seems to be the Marmite of literary forms.

Added a post  to  , Poetry

It's getting late again, and I'm getting tired. It's also getting harder and harder to find things to write about, and today's ode is about that very subject.


Poeting's hard


If I could only learn to find how poetry occurs
perhaps I'd soon be rhyming like a poet
but until then I guess for me it's totally absurd
to think that I'll be good enough to show it

so on I blunder smashing words like finely made bone china
into such a vast and shapeless heap
and though I try to write some odes and make them ever finer
I don't think that they're good enough to keep

Instead I'll read the book I've bought that tells how rhyming's done
and hope I'll find some inspiration there
coz right now all I'm getting is an aching back and bum
and that's not much to write about and share

another day draws to a close the clock keeps ticking onward
I'm getting brain ache from all the hard graft
of trying to find things to write, it should be quite straightforward
but somehow all my rhymes just seem so daft

I can't find out how to include such poetic words as "Heav'n"
or other words that drop a vowel or two
all I can think to rhyme with it is something like "North Devon"
but that's a place I've almost never been to

although I'm from the West myself I didn't travel much
until I moved away from home that is
so I was now a long way East of Mendip Hills and such
and wasn't keen to go except on business

I did once go to Exmoor though, where I had a job to do
but that was over in three days or less
and though I thought of touring I was really passing through
so I never did get suitably impressed

as soon as it was over I headed out back East
back to my home and family just here
and soon forgot the windswept hills as well if I am honest
I gave them up for comfort and a beer

but now I'm sat here wondering and feeling quite bereft
of what to write to end this ode of mine
except for me to say that there is simply nothing left
for me to do but end it on a rhyme


Added a post  to  , Poetry

Thought I'd have a go at a sonnet tonight. However, apparently what I've written is a hybrid between a Petrarchan sonnet and a Shakespearean sonnet. It seems the Petrarchan sonnet has a rhyming scheme in the 'Octave' (first 8 lines) of ABBA-ABBA, then for the 'Sestet' (last 6 lines) of CDECDE. But mine has a rhyming scheme of ABBA-CDDC for the Octave, then EFEFGG for the Sestet. Which is closer to the Shakespearean form that rhymes as ABAB- CDCD for the Octave, and EFEFGG for the Sestet.


Got a sonnet under my bonnet!


Of all the lovely things that I could do 
and all the pleasing things I'd like to say
I'd smile and say them to you anyway
and I'd like to do them all in time with you
the only place I really want to be
and if you're here I truly must admit
I know that my whole life would be complete
if I could make you want to stay with me;

the trouble is that you are never here
you're many miles away from where I'm sitting
and though I'm thinking of you now my dear
for you in your four walls there's no beginning
no start to our romance, our love affair
instead I'll just sit here and shed a tear


Added a post  to  , Poetry

I've been so busy yesterday and today that I haven't had the time to do any shopping, and we'd run out of just about everything, bread, butter, milk, ham, eggs. You name it, we didn't have it. So today's poem is about just that, shopping.




Ah shopping, now there's a thought
if ever something made me fraught
it's something learned not something taught
and not a nasty bug I've caught

some people shop to pass the time
but me I'd rather have a coffee
or do some writing that's sublime
not waste my dreams on what to get me

just to spend and spend again
appears to be the modern way
of showing that you never work
but lunch and shop the hours away

well that's okay if you don't care
and chatter just to pass the hours
but me I think it's just hot air
that swirls round shopping mall towers

passing gossip mouth to ear
and on to someone else to spread
the rumour mill still works my dear
alive and kicking in your head

and all the time the cash is flowing
out of pocket into till
until your basket's overflowing
and you decide you've had your fill

your fill of wasting hours and hours
of time that you could use to make
useful things for those around you
or at least to bake a cake

okay you needed fresh food items
flour and eggs to make your mix
but that's no reason to waste the day
as into every shop you flit

anyway it's getting late now
the shops are shut it's time for bed
so go and rest and get prostrate
remember all the things I've said

like keep your money till it's needed
don't just fritter it away
but store it in the piggy bank
to use it on a rainy day


Added a post  to  , Poetry

And now for today's poem, if it actually posts up that is! I'll have to become a god of the forum and command it to appear before you all. Now there's a coincidence, today's poem is all about gods.




I want to be a god I do
a sacred superman to you
I'd sit up high and looking down
I'd stare at you and wear a frown
I'd make you all bow down and pray
and if you don't I'll look away
and then you'll all be really sorry
and bring me presents on a lorry
lots of stuff you'd offer me
like well cooked meat and jars of honey
hoping that I'd eat the meat
and after that I'd have a sweet
a piece of bread soaked in the honey
a gift that's worth much more than money
coz all the money that there is
couldn't buy indulgencies
if I get angry with you all
I'll turn your faces to the wall
and then I'd really tell you off
and rant and rave until I cough
but then I'll have some soothing honey
my sore throat won't be so runny
in fact I might just think it's funny
and then I'd make the weather sunny
so you all burn and go bright red
and be all sore with aching heads
and then I'll smile and laugh instead
to see you all quite sick in bed
you see I am a vengeful god
in fact I'm a really nasty sod
I like to give you lots of orders
and make you stay within tight borders
and sing to me most every day
and worship me in every way
until you die and then at last
you've got away once you have passed


Added a post  to  , Poetry

As the last three poems failed to appear here I'm going to post them again. Here they are whether you want them or not!!  :-)

I'll post up this evening's ode once I've written it, which hopefully will be in the next hour or so.

This was yesterday's offering


The Adventure


I'm getting tired and need to sleep
but never mind I'm sure it'll keep
the story I was going to tell you
that if you heard you might enjoy

still, I'm sure you can wait till tomorrow
there's no rush I'm sure that you'll agree
the story's really not much of a tale
it's just another adventure you see
about a boy and a girl who meet
and how they eventually become free

free from oppression, free from anger
free from depression and free to roam
across the open plains and steppes
to somewhere they can choose as home

so join with me and hold my hand
I'll show you how it all pans out
as we go exploring through this land
and I'll explain what it's all about

there was a boy and he had a dream
to meet a girl to call his own
but though he searched he could never seem
to find her, she remained unkown

and so he went on his great journey
searching every town and city
talking to everyone he met
hoping that he'd find the one
the one he's meant for in his dreams
but somehow though he went for miles
he couldn't find her so it seemed

instead all he found was heartache
loneliness that filled his soul
an emptiness a migraine headache
a painfulness that took its toll

but one day when all hope was gone
he sadly sat and in despair
then happened to look up and there
she was the girl with eyes that shone

she smiled and sat down next to him
as though she'd known him all his life
he looked agog and wondered then
if she would one day be his wife

so hand in hand and side by side
they walked on out to seek their fate
taking on the world together
a new life to investigate

but as it's late I won't continue
I'm too tired to carry on
perhaps I'll tell you more tomorrow
if by then I haven't forgotten


This was April Tenth's offering




"I'll rise to the occasion!" he said looking at the mountain
but being only ten years old it wasn't such a boast
however, over the next few years he shot up like a fountain
puberty came and puberty went
exams were passed and then at last
to university he was sent

and now he could really stretch himself to rise above his peers
he studied hard to gain his grades and did so without fear
of ever being beaten or gainsaid in his subjects
until at last his finals passed
his race was won and clear

a bright career now beckoned for this first class man of letters
he'd done his best to show the rest that he was blessed and better
and interviews now followed from requests by this go-getter
but here he found he hit a snag no-one wanted a trend setter

his bold ideas were anathema to those whom he'd applied to
they only needed clay from which to mold the candidate who
fitted in with their ideas and then ticked all the boxes
so bright as buttons geniuses weren't hunted down like foxes
but instead were turned away to go and seek out other means
to earn a crust and gain the trust
of those who must employ them
and just give orders to their teams

so at last he found a niche, it wasn't what he wanted
instead he had to knuckle down and not be the exhalted one
but with a frown
he kept his head down
working like a beaver
to build the dream as one of a team
in time he became their leader

and so he found his childhood boast had really come to pass
he'd risen to the occasion and recognition followed on at last
now he could hold his head up high
when he saw how far he'd climbed for
to reach the highest grade in whatever he'd applied for

"I think I've risen far enough" he whispered to himself
then slowly easing, quietly teasing
his career he was silently freezing
till in its place was an empty space
he turned his face away with grace
to seek another goal to chase and mountains to attempt
for the saying really is true that; 'familiarity breeds contempt'


This was April Ninth's offering.


Decisions decisions


The morning sun shone through the curtains
"It's a lovely day outside" he said
then rolling from his bed he reached across
and pulled the curtains far apart to let more sunlight in
the warmth and brightness lifted up his heart

"It does me good to see the sun" he muttered to himself
then turned to wake his partner soundly sleeping
she hid her face behind her hand to shield her hurting eyes
then smiled at the new day now appearing

so up they got and breakfasted and then the man declared
"I think it's time we moved along my dear!"
"Why?" she said, "What's wrong with this place?" nodding with her head
and pointed through the door to what was near

for they were next to a silver stream that bubbled as it ran
through meadows lush with grass of vivid green
"There's nothing wrong with here" he said as the scenery he scanned
"but we've seen all there is that can be seen"

"So where do you think we should go?" she asked him with a frown
"We might have seen the sights, but that's not all,
the people of the village are so friendly I have found,
much more than any others I recall"

"Yes I agree they are quite friendly, generous too it seems,
I've found both work and comradeship, and that is what I mean,
it soon would be a prison, with ever open doors,
and us unable to go through for fear of what we'd lose"

"It's true it would a prison make, a life long one at that,
we'd leave it in a pine box come the day,
so I agree you're right to say it's time that we moved on,
let's gather up our things and be away"

and so they hitched the horse and cleared the fire of its embers
then packed away their precious pots and pans
and soon were once more on the road and no-one now remembers
the travellers in the gypsy caravan


Added a post  to  , Poetry

There's something weird going on with the site at the moment. I've been posting up poems every day, but now I've just refreshed the page and the last one that's appeared from me is from four days ago! 

I've also noticed that every time I post up a poem now I click on the 'POST' button and instead of it appearing, I am prompted instead to choose the visibility level!?

So I set it to 'PUBLIC' and then press the 'POST' button again, and for me it appears. However, it would seem that it's not being posted to the site for anyone else to see, or even for me to see now that I've refreshed the page. 

Anyone got any idea what's going on? Have I upset the forum gods perhaps? Please tell me if I have sinned, and what I need to do to gain absolution, so that my amateur attempts at poetry can once more grace the pages of the forum. Pretty Please??

Added a post  to  , Poetry

The Ditchdigger’s Wife

The ditch digger's wife had it hard every day

But she seldom complained, don't you see.

For although it was hell scrubbing other people's floors

Her life had a certain consistency.

 The banker's wife had it just as hard

Her stomach stayed tied up in knots.

Between choosing the décor for the party

And the pool boy who gave her the hots.

 Then one day the ditch digger came home from work

and gave his sweet wife a single rose.

she smiled as she smelled its fragrant bouquet

then went back to washing the clothes.

 The banker's wife may never know

the power in that single rose

Or the love from which it was given

And how that special love grows.

 For she was much too busy having fake fun with fake friends

Trying to forget her childhood this ditch digger's daughter, the end.

Added a post  to  , Poetry

Haikus today. I thought I'd put together a short story made up of haikus, and here they are.


Haiku to you!


Outside it's raining
yesterday it snowed so hard
the ground is soaking

the cold seems to be
here to stay another week
I don't like the cold

perhaps with luck the
weather gods will holiday
somewhere else anon

till then I'll stay in
warm and cosy here within
my old dressing gown

my back aches so much
I need to keep warm and dry
munching painkillers

while still sitting here
watching the weather outside
drying as I watch

I'll wait till the sun
visits us once more each day
to dry the wet ground

at last the children
can play out of doors and sing
and I can relax

so keep to the script
don't hide in the crypt my friend
but stay till the end

the end of the tale
the story of how things are
so soon to be told

the end is in sight
this eternal night will end
now Spring has arrived


Added a post  to  , Poetry

This evening I was busy, but I shot a few words onto the page to give you something to target in your reading list. :-)


Collateral damage


The sound of thunder rolls away
the flash like lightning shines
the clap sends shockwaves rippling out
by darkness now defined

as from the barrel issues forth
the ball of solid steel
that flies as though it's drawn to North
like a magnet given wheels

the ball arcs high into the air
it whistles as it flies
for all those within range to hear
until it falls to earth

the sounds of battle rage around
the howitzer's report
the smoke that followed out the ball
now keeps the gun obscured

from those who'd fire back and seek
to end the gunners' lives
for firing on their comrades
who have managed to survive
so far among the killing and
the dying all around
yet now as cannon fodder stand
to give their lives as ground

and all because the men in charge
want gains to show their bosses
they really don't care what it costs
they write off all the losses

as though they were just numbers
like bullets from a gun
who only matter when it comes
to totting up who's won


Added a post  to  , Poetry

Sorry for the lateness of this entry, but due to a domestic crisis (leaky bath!) I haven't had much time today. Anyway, here's the word.


The Word


First there was the word and the word was all there was
it sat alone upon the page and wondered at its purpose
so it spoke itself out loudly to gather some attention
hoping to find another word that would add a new dimension

for long long minutes the word spoke out but no-one did reply
until just as the word gave up it suddenly heard a cry
as more words came to join it an inexhaustible supply
and soon there were so many words gathering nearby
the word now wondered where they'd been when it had first appeared
and worried that unless it spoke they would soon disappear

so now it cleared its throat so that it could make a speech
but then it had a problem, it ran into a glitch
the word was just a single word, it couldn't act as more
and though it wanted to explain it really wasn't sure
for just one word cannot convey a complex thought or feeling
as though it were a sentence or a story full of meaning

and so it had to signal to the others on the line
to form a proper sentence that would let the words combine
into a longer story that might garner many readers
stories of adventure or perhaps of horrid murders

and all this from a single word that found itself alone
and called for help from other words to form a cornerstone
a cornerstone of knowledge imparted from the page
to help us learn new meanings for our lives at every stage
as they appear before our eyes in every written passage

so when you see a single word with nothing else around
remember that it won't be long before they will abound
just take your time and wait awhile to watch the words come out
and grow into a story, it's what the world's about


Added a post  to  , Poetry

Today's ode is below, so take a read and then you'll know all there is to know about what goes on in my head. Especially when I'm tired and wishing it was me who was dreaming instead of the person in the poem.




Her long hair spreads across the pillow
she breathes so quietly in her sleep
as gentle breeze sways the willow boughs
I see her eyelids flutter dreaming
wondrous dreams of pure enchantment
adventures in a hidden world
that only she can find when day's end
comes to take her to her bed

At six years old the dreams are vivid
all the shapes and colours there
invite them all, the bold and timid
to the party for to play
until the dawn of a brand new day

when through the curtains daylight peeps
across the floor night's shadow creeps
until at last it's gone and now
it's time for breakfast, so hurry
down to the kitchen and grab your bowl
pour the milk till it's so full
the morning flakes are in danger of spilling
but once all eaten they're so filling

then back you go to clean your teeth
don your clothes and brush your hair
and grab your bag then out the door
it's off to school to learn some more

more facts and figures to fill your head
at playtime have a morning snack
all this work is just so tiring
never mind it'll soon be lunch
then more new lessons to watch and learn
lots of writing fingers aching
pencil's getting blunt and messy
never mind it's time for home

soon homework's done and dinner's eaten
time to play some little games
then all too soon it's time for sleep
so get undressed and try to keep
the memories of what you did
as under the duvet you now slide

with head on pillow eyelids heavy
soon those eyes are closed, you're ready
now to dream and end your day
and there to join your friends and play

meanwhile on the pillow rests
your long hair as you quietly breathe
like gentle breeze sways the willow boughs
your eyelids flutter as you dream
adventures in your hidden world


Added a post  to  , Poetry

Here's today's attempt at amateur poetry. With luck and many years of practice I might even make it to novice level.


The mighty pen


It's not an easy thing to do when rhyming is the thing
it's much more difficult than said when trying to begin
for even simple poems can be hard to get to start
and though you try until you cry your ideas to impart
you struggle with your muddled mind your thoughts to put in line
it's hard to get your broken shards to mark the beat in time
but try you must so put your trust into the great hereafter
then dip your pen and scratch your chin your confidence to bolster
and look the paper in the eye to let it know who's master
then write a word, a starting word and soon you'll think much faster
as inspiration takes a hold and soon the rhyming flows
the dark ink shows and as it grows your muse you'll have to ask her
to give you phrases that embrace a meaning for your missive
it won't be long, and it's not wrong to hope it is exclusive
for only you can write the thoughts that wander through your mind
some are happy, some are sad, but never leave behind
a fragment of a thought unwritten till it fades away
but add it to the list of things that you've heard people say
as they expound with subtle sound in quiet conversation
their notions and emotions as they sit in cogitation
so you should try to not deny their velvet voiced expressions
that slowly fill your head until you're full of admiration
for all the things they've said that helped to give you motivation
to write your poem, now I'm going to give you confirmation
that it's all done the time has come to put your weapon down
the mighty pen has won again and now it's gone to ground
but when you need to mount your steed to battle words once more
that's when your pen will rise again and help your thoughts mature