Sunday 31 March 2019

The Letter



There’s a letter lying waiting
Through my letterbox front door
The post mark is too fine to see
So where it came from I’m not sure
I often play this guessing game
Though disappointed when I find
As once again a pointless circular
Sent to the rubbish bin declined
But now and then more then than now
A body writes with penmanship 
I read it twice then once again
Dwelling deeply on each snip
So if a letter lying waiting there
Has a chance of read review
I’ll place it high as most essential
Along with pressing matters true
Then carefully will lay it flat
With correspondence I will treasure
As part of special times gone by
My chronicles of studied pleasure


Saturday 30 March 2019

Can’t Stop Must Hop



My ‘up-and-at-em’ appetite
Sets off my super motion mode
My limbs are bursting full of vims
And my vigour needs no goad

The sun is throwing spears at me
I skip and catch all I can grab
I’ve put my do-list into first things first
Avoiding things becoming drab

I get my needed bits and pieces
Spread them out like surgeons do
Spurring on my active action plan
It’s my springtime breaking through

Friday 29 March 2019

Tabula Rasa



When a new born child arrives
With no innate perception
Without a clue no point of view
Nor any predilection

In need of warmth and suckle love
Sleeping soundly until when
Confusion of the senses call
Hunger’s fear torments again

Surrounded by so many clues
As each wakeful hour presents
Until the shades of patterned light
Make out where stories can commence

Living deep within surrounding hearts
Roaming free in brand new dreams
Consciousness demanding who we are
As ‘why?’ resides between sunbeams


Wednesday 27 March 2019

Cosmical Cornetcopia

Credit: NASA/JPL


We’re taking space in restaurants
Us garden gastrognomes
Having landed in the milkshake whey
We drink in the starlight foams

We’ve travailed far for just desserts
Where back on Mars we had a plan
Jest for luck we filled up trucks
Out flatbeds made of marzipan

On the weigh we carried much indeed
Kept of course on our slipstream
With no fear of terror fervour
We’ll lick our foes with Marsicecream

Based on:


Tuesday 26 March 2019

The Great Mistake


When confusion reigns and all around
Compass needles spinning
Where those in charge of promises
Dare not dream again of winning

They’ve fouled their doorsteps dirty
From their offside none shall pass
Ragged reins not steering what remains
They shamble headlong into farce

Pretender vultures circle low
Amid the scent of putrid air
As turning coats may save some votes
Whilst others drown in deep despair




Sunday 24 March 2019

Tea Times Table



Rising from the bed-box
To a pre-arranged alarm
Having snoozed defiantly
To reappear in wakeful calm
I nip down to the kitchen
Fill the kettle up afresh
Warm and fill the teapot 
Then let the brew enmesh
I sit and let myself arrive
Playing catch-up with my head
Morning news brings helpless blues
I play a mindful tune instead
I briskly pour a second cup
To reinforce my first cup thrill
Slowly bringing on my readiness
If not quite there I wait until
I have no ‘Plan B’ without tea
It would strain my early state
Near the brink without tea to drink
No morning chores would undertake


Saturday 23 March 2019

Interesting

Complexity matters in the long term


The trick is in the story told
Instalments full of sections
Where the what is said is partial
To keep a sense of new directions

Telling all denies inventiveness
It may leave the time served stale
Where in the end is nothing new
We need a semblance of a veil

Who we  were or who we are
Maybe the tale that we can’t tell
Where mysteries lie deep within
At the bottom of our well

When eventually the day arrives
Where all is said and done
The weight of tiredness descends
Obscures what's left of all that fun


Thursday 21 March 2019

Overcome Blues



Sea of Pity gallops
onto rocky shore
A wicked wave 
that overwhelms
Drowning any sign
of certainty
Removes dominion 
from the realm
Consideration 
for the way things are
Not much to ask 
in driving rain
To share the silence
with a kind heart
Who won't pretend 
to feel the pain
Every journey 
is a special wend
From summer day
to winter night
When all too soon 
the story falters
With no epilogue to write


Wednesday 20 March 2019

Get Together


At last night’s poet’s party
Among the passages well known
I listened out for anecdotes
But found I had to hold my own

When asked about my latest book
I said the one before was doing well
As for now it’s work in progress
So how it’s doing I can’t tell

Oh really, who’s your publisher?
I thought I’d better write that right
For although I’ve sent out manuscripts
So far, I haven’t had a bight

The party circles spun like clockwork
Till the mainspring now unwound
Let hush descend and call the end
The windup words sang out profound

Then as the room returned to form
Once again with empty pages
All nagging doubts had taken flight
The way that vacant disengages


Bight -
  • "Pete finally settled on an arrangement that he was happy with, consisting of a butterfly and a long loop leading to a bowline on the bight." Oxford Dictionaries.

Tuesday 19 March 2019

Make Way!!!


We walk around 
Walk where we like
Love rambling
Enjoy the hike
Respect the road
The traffic flow
Our sidewalk way
We’re free to go
LookOut wheels
Of biker man
The pathway rider
Claims he can
Rings a bell
Squeals a wheel
Pushy biker’s
My-Way deal
Pays no heed
To traffic rules
Red light jumper
Two-wheel mules
Up yours mate
I’m on my bike
A highwayman
Do what I like
Middle finger
Should you protest
From Easy Rider
No contest

Monday 18 March 2019

A Dreadful Rhyme



Caught between two spider webs
Checking out which way to hop
Facing present possibilities
Do I leap or chance a drop

I can feel a movement telling me
I haven’t long to go elsewhere
Too dark to find the anchor point
Maybe a jagged rock down there

Who knows what’s across the way
It’s too dark to trace the view
I sense a need to make my mind up now
Then realize I’m stuck with goo 

By the time you get this message
I will have passed long by the date
Smothered in a web cocoon
A feast the spider ate


Saturday 16 March 2019

Rancour All The Rage



Putting out a platitude
Proclaiming moral rectitude
When balking at the magnitude
In a point of law’s ineptitude
When answers for the multitude
Demand much more than attitude
To deal with random turpitude
With aims for global servitude
To build on lying certitude
Inflaming hate when interviewed
Destroying love where greed accrued
Leaves us on the edge of finitude

Friday 15 March 2019

Outside on the Outside



Ambling down that street alone
Having never been before
With feelings of the offbeat kind
My watch I check to reassure
These new streets take so long to walk
Unlike my shorter streets back home
Much better if I know how far
When aimlessly I sometimes roam
The houses may seem similar
Yet still the atmosphere holds back
Next time I’ll drive or taxi here
When off the beaten track

Thursday 14 March 2019

Skinny Mini Mote

STORY LINK




Harder than diamond 
stronger than steel
Smaller than anything 
We humans can feel

As thin as an atom
A bit like a jot
More stringy and stretchy
The toughest we’ve got

Speeding up actions
Much faster than now
Untearable wearable
Trend shifting know-how

Life as we know it
Many parched on the brink
Can filter seawater
And sumptuously drink

Deeper than skin deep
Like a miracle machine
Such particle articles
Amazing graphene

Wednesday 13 March 2019

Limelight



Lighting up with striking white

A spectacle on show

People drawn in fascination

To the highlight’s famous glow

Performances beyond belief

Delightful theatre of light

Illuminates a new illusion

Living pictures in the night

Everybody sitting star struck

Filled with tension and suspense

In the entertaining limelight 

A fleeting interlude intense

STORY LINK

Tuesday 12 March 2019

I Had This Great Idea



Flickering thoughts
that bounce about
Will not wait 
for hands to catch
Can be netted 
in a question
And from then on
may unlatch
To be acknowledged 
and progressed
They split in 
two ways ‘either or’
Unlike answers 
speaking ‘Yes or No’
Like spinning dancers
on the floor
Mysteriously they 
come and go
Rearranged 
but unrepeated
In a tense that 
won’t make sense
Too soon discarded 
or deleted

Monday 11 March 2019

Transformative



There is movement on my keyboard
I get the feeling change is ripe
I’ve scribbled too much rhymey stuff
I think I’ll change the way I type

To begin with I could write the end
To give me trails I might pursue
Or perhaps I’ll start in Medias Res
Where in between I follow through

Creativity my potential quest
Imagination drives each scene
That clarifies and underlies
The kind of aftermath I mean

Sunday 10 March 2019

Passed Down



Oh dearest wise Great Grand Mama
Her soothing wisdom our delight
Look before you sleep and dream
Find nothing there to spoil your night

Take time when doing clever things
Don’t let hasty call the tune
It’s not the speed that gets it done
When you have all afternoon

And time will never wait for you
When you misplace you from fun
For idleness obeys no clock
If you wait for hands to run

The world is full of oyster beds
Nothing good comes easy though
Luck will rarely help you find your pearls
For easy come is easy go

Life finds ways to test us all
We must take note of our mistakes
Accept that laurels cannot last
And balance all our gives and takes

Saturday 9 March 2019

A Little Night Write



I try to be more flexible
Let my stimulus unleash
I read a lot to find out what
A more perceptive kind of niche

I’m looking out for additives
Insert more flavour as I plod
To bolster my expressiveness
And give my impetus a prod

The reason for this exercise
Helps me type with all my write
Should a good idea in words appear
To keep me company at night

Friday 8 March 2019

Mother’s Day

Don't wait for Mother's Day every day counts


Our robot washed the washing clean
Drip dried for hanging on the line
Our robot washed the dishes too
Removing grime restoring shine

But still there was much work to do
The hanging out and pressing
The emptying and putting back
For us to find no second guessing

Our plates and cups on tables laid
Dressed to kill and looking smart
As mother serves our favourite grub
We underestimate her part

It’s clear she thinks about us all
We take as given without thought
Every day and week throughout the year
She rarely asks us for support

We lounge about and sleep till late
Carping whingeing picking holes
Sneaking off with limp excuses
To strut our stuff on show patrols

Day in day out our life’s routine
Supported quietly without fuss
Until she’s ill or on her holiday
We wail and howl we stomp and cuss

Once a year is nowhere near enough
A mother’s life is one short straw
Remember when you raised your voice
The blame was yours you know for sure



Wednesday 6 March 2019

Negatively Curved



In relating to the size of us
We are but far too small
Some place where space enormous is
Yet nowhere near to us at all

Tiny though our homestead is
In a hot bed full of life
We struggle to improve our odds
In a cauldron running rife

All depends on what comes next
Based on how we made it so
Instead of sailing on an even keel
We choose the rapids in full flow

We are but images in holograms
On a theatre stage burlesque
A vision changed by what we see
Portrayed in pictures Escheresque 

STORY LINK

Python Link

Monday 4 March 2019

Idiomatic




Find me a word I can use as I choose
To explain and interpret my meaning
Able to vent the method I meant
Guard clarity from noise intervening

Then if when I write and try as I might
To bring imagery and vision galore
Finding the mother of one or the other
Making friends with a new word next door

Keeping succinct with a view interlinked
As my picture portrayed comes to fore
For all those that see what was written by me
Emphasised by supreme metaphor

Sunday 3 March 2019

Drawn a Blank


Staring at my blank page
I thought I’d write with nothing doing
By letting words just write themselves
To see if they have something brewing

I use this aimless method
To keep me straying from the line
Filled with words of any form
And then pretend that they are mine

I do this often when I’m clueless
All too frequently I stare
Optimistically I wait and see
If I can use whatever’s there

Then when I’ve counted sixteen lines
I check the state of my despair
Released from blank page emptiness
The blank page gone I do declare


This fab rhyme inspired by

Saturday 2 March 2019

Seedtime



On this day in early March 
Some possibilities occur
The weather and the daylight hours
Are working hard on winter’s blur

There is a pleasant sense of likelihood
That has me staring out the cloud
Saying farewell sad old season dark
Longer days will shred that shroud

Movement draws my new day curtains
I feel a sense of something near
I’ll now pretend that June is soon
Remove the remnants of last year