Rawky Days

Time has twirled its autumn dance
Trading dark with early light
Nostalgic thoughts kaleidoscope
Spinning patterns into flight

Colours skip and pirouette
Dissolve then bursting back
Portraying how the summer skies
Were too bountiful to track

Cascading leaves collapse and weep
Assert their loss in distant airs
Symphonic strains play requiem
The Lord of winter now declares

Weird and wonderful words - Oxford Dictionaries

Rawky: foggy, damp, and cold

Downwardly Mobile

 

It was time for mobile upgrade

Our silicone vessels sagging

Behind the times in snappy apps

And picture selfie bragging

We requested contract upgrade

Greeted warmly at top speed

Attentively our dealer pledged

To cover every special need

Delivery was bang on time

Parceled pleasures wrapped within

Unpacked and feeling good to go

Fairground feelings in topspin

The I-phone that was my phone

Straightforward at first sight

Bells and whistles all in readiness

But my number wasn’t right

My other half with other phone

Had somehow got my number

So now we had to ditch the switch

Stir our phones from techno slumber

Calling up for more support

Fraught with much bewilderment

Left to languish phone on hold

Alone with rising discontent

Don’t ask me how it happened

And all the trouble it now took

The stress the mess I must confess

Would take up more than just a book

Travel plans were now essential 

We headed for the city centre

Face to face with human beings

Reduced the pain of our tormentor

They interfaced with cyberspace

Reconfigured crisp new chips

Reinstated numbers dedicated

No more Saga blips or trips

First Light

Picture by Cody Chan Unsplash.com

In the tranquil daybreak

A peaceful space embraces

Ideas arriving not yet grasped

Wrapped in crystal cases

A gleaming light receiver

Finding likely first impressions

Shaking up a static memory

Giving way to new concessions

Flawlessly arrivals

interrupt a careless state

Insisting on continuing

Where time is no one’s place to wait

Lawdible Poem

Picture magic-book-on-hand-picture-id537761721 

Those dithering words
Up in the air 
Waiting to be picked
In howling rows
Should one suppose
Their meanings can be tricked
What uses can we find for them
Is order paramount
Maybe tie them to a rope
To wave them all about
Stringing words suggesting prose
Will promise more and more
If by order of their elegance
They use the letter of the law

Flying Words Pictures Download Free Images on https://unsplash.com/s/photos/flying-words

Centre Lane

 

Circles of life

At length we measure

Big ideals 

Simple pleasure

All-around

In work or leisure

Modest life

With time to treasure

Silent sounds

Let ideas fly

With clarity

The voiceless cry

To see at last

The sweet reply

In perfect pitch

A flawless song

Bonding hearts

That flow along

The placid line

Forever strong 

My Baby Sleeps Soundly

 

Waking up ahead of time
With no chance to lie in peace
In the kitchen pencil dithering
With perfect words, I can't release

So I sit there with a steamy tea
No insight vision in my eye
Reading someone's Twitter feed
Which I scroll then pass on by

Well there I am alone somewhere
Not ever feeling lonely
For up there in our snuggle nest
Is my favourite one and only

To Pauline my little pack of wonderful

Now Is the Time

photo-1545062990-4a95e8e4b96d unsplash.com

The Midas men of mountain wealth

Overpowered by their need

Stuffed with stocks of plenty

Cannot satisfy their greed

 

Calls for more, beyond needs-must

Echo death knell’s clarion bell

As hedonists who squeeze and twist

To fill their fortress cupboard swell

 

On avenues where shadows shine

Where preferential seats reside

The favoured wait to be adorned

Ignoring talk of genocide

 

The ivory tower’s light brigade

Maintain their battle ranks

Charging into empty vacuums

Along the barren riverbanks

 

Bodies where the vanquished lie

Shriek loud in putrid earth

Wait for ocean deep invasions

To restore the scales of worth

Last Monday in October

Monday curled around today
Looking backwards from the start
No sign of helpful anything
Nor playing any part
 
As Mondays go it’s hesitant
A stop-start time machine
Can’t be asked whenever tasked
To fathom or to glean
 
Monday when it’s like this
Without any point of view
It started so that in the end
There was so little else to do

Remember well that Monday is

Not the sum of all its hours

If one can struggle through to lunch

It's morning blues that one devours

Lost Voice of Liberty's Choice

 

In cultures full of data pockets

Partial notes on current pages

Momentary sparks in jiffies

Left where moving on engages

The time of day has passed away

Pleasantries no longer needed

Smiles are signs in messages

As face-to-face is superseded

Slipping ties of past belongings 

That gave us so much more to say

Finding ideas in a spellbound flash

Hidden blue skies in the grey

Come over to our evening in

We love to do this now and then 

Escaping media disruptions
With present company again

Read All About It

 

Last night a poem spoke to me

I almost missed the start

Not a complicated piece

Some words I had to pull apart

It read to me like something strange

Though compelling nonetheless

Some notes I made were accurate

Some lines I had to second guess

I read it through at least three times

I added some new sections

Until I had rewritten it

To make it link to my connections
I shortened words made new expressions

Consulted works of great renown

As if I might add pedigree

To what I now had written down

At last I felt a justice served

By using ‘Timely Rhymes’ technique

And for anybody now intrigued

I just might publish it next week

Between Us Both

photo-1601128183284-8e4c7e51d65f

Who is myself I ask my ‘self’
In search of what is real
Do I have a kind of mind
More than everything I feel
 
In a super swirl of nervy waves
Dynamic mission gives me vision
A driving force of possibilities
On a lifespan expedition
 
Could be I’m a thought machine
A fleshy mass of wobble stuff
Clinging on to thinking on
Cracking on when things get rough
 
All my structures and appendages
Seem to illustrate my core
Playing in my guessing games
Of plans demanding more
 
In or out my words profess
To unexpectedly make sense
Not reading from a book or script
If not expanding I condense

 

The Prize Writer

 

His doctor called it syndrome

Some sort of self-inflicted slur

That he should feel the words he wrote

Might not with other minds concur

Sweat spot note pads edgy curled

Scrubbed out lines that wouldn’t gel

Ignoring obvious catchy phrases

Like walking planks to pirate’s hell

Too loud that shout of doubt would scream

You need more passages with legs

Holding tight a reader ‘s bated breath

With eyes like chapel hat pegs

He let the plot build slowly sure

Like in a detail grinding blender

Until at last a masterpiece brought forth
Released him from the word 'Pretender'

based on: 

Are You Really an Author? How to Kill Imposter Syndrome by guest @SmartAuthors By Rachel Thompson | Blog

Just One Between Two

 

Romantic hearts one starlit night

On a gondola sharing cassata

She sang a sweet tune
he joined in her croon

Then later composed a cantata

A musical written for piano and flute

Violins hit a high note crescendo  

Flutters of love
In the air up above
Slowly drifting in cornet morendo

Genius Teases

 

Ideas will hover fleetingly

Best you grab them straight away

Write them down and save them

Avoiding memory lapse dismay

You notice them because they’re great

Astounding smooth and smart

Drifting swiftly off to other’s eyes

If you don’t have the heart

They don’t like treading water

Not keen on crossing lines

These pristine inspirations

Your dreaming radio combines

Small Change

 

Not always there when you need it

Small change can often provoke

Taking up space in your pocket

About as useful as a weary old joke

 

Some rake it some shake it or jingle

Small change that repetitive clatter

Sounding useful but short on performance

Contributes where things hardly matter

 

A Shapely Rhyme

I’ve put my pattern hat on

Thinking moulds and folds

Reshaping norms to other forms

Ecliptic intersecting nodes

Shapes mislaid cannot be played

I suggest it’s for the best

One can’t subtract from abstract

To leave a concrete concept flayed

  

Rhyme Bandit Too

Picture by Matteo Catanese 

Unsplash.com

Rhyme Bandit with a shifty pen
Unlikely scribbled rhymes 
On subjects arbitrarily
Not always with the times

That’s the way with rhymesters
Their rhyming words inject
Allowing lines to run along
To spot whatever they collect

Inspired today by rainfall
How the sun sits in the clouds
As plans right now take second place
I count umbrella crowds

My bus is due at twenty-past
So far no one in the line
A trickle tickles down my neck
As I stand there queue benign

Roll Up

 

A rich imagination 

Living in a wealthy mind

What seems to be created

Is merely thinking realigned

Well-fed brains with past ideas

Reading other peoples work

Whip the action in your head

Be ringmaster of your cirque

As the acts play out their parts

Announce the order of your play

Lion tamers tumbling clowns

Tightrope walker’s brave display

Shoot the human cannonball

Into the flame of burning plots

In a canopy displaying stars
Letting insight join the dots

Taken by Storm

 

Last night we watched a riot

A garden-raging row

Unable to contain itself

Full of everything right now

Dusty ice was flying wild

A weather vane of violent spin

Whirlpool winds and crystal falls

Manic screaming twisted grin

Not a night for city doorways

Under cardboard covered rooms

Where streetlights wink that all is well

The sucking blizzard mouth consumes

As a Rule of Thumb

 

In the centre of infinity

I take direction in my stride

My compass has no point of view 

I let the speed of light decide

As I sleepwalk through the cosmos

Unconcerned without a map

Avoiding black hole cul-de-sacs

Or lunar crescent time mishap

Surfing soundly on a microwave

With my attractive lines of force

On the trail of dust beginnings

I once left without remorse

Ready Steady Write

 

Writing down whatever comes

Is where I find my other sense

A place that isn’t somewhere else

Or necessarily immense

Lacking any conscious purpose

Turning meaning inside out

Letting all my paths and places cross

Within my patterns as they sprout

And then without a second thought

I read out loud and get bemused

Wonder why my map of thinking streets

Leaves me thoughtless and confused

In the end I find a brand new start

Although beginning isn’t winning

But neither is a sprint for words

That in my fertile rut need thinning

Bin It

 

No matter what you think of it

Trash is no one's laughing matter

But there are those who take the view

Spreading much more than a smatter

Masters of our street disorder

Scatter clutter everywhere

Jumble-dropping dumper louts

Tossing mess without a care

Not a thought for consequences

On the public they forsake

Defecating food and packaging

Feeding vermin in their wake

How good to hear the worm is turning

The litter-muggers need advice

Misplacing wrappings with their slop
Named and shamed they’ll pay the price

This Way To No Return

 

Mayhem leaves Pandora’s box

Where confusion is perplexed

Pandemonium is wearing thin

Abundant disarray connects

Different laws control disorder

Revolution wheels spin free

The turmoil tap is steaming

Madness stirs a crazy tea

The rules of disobedience

Showing wilfulness outside

Hide inside recalcitrance
Predicting chaos not denied

Just One Between Two

 

Romantic hearts one starlit night

On a gondola sharing cassata

She sang a sweet tune
he joined in her croon

Then later composed a cantata

A musical written for piano and flute

Violins hit a high note crescendo  

Flutters of love
In the air up above
Slowly drifting in cornet morendo

Dissolved

 

Water soft and sensual

Healing cleansing resonating

Sinuous and curving

Yet unforgiving penetrating

Each watercourse forever probing

Quietly waiting for decay

To take a path of least resistance

To life sustained or drained away

Abundant in it’s everywhere

In waterways the great divide
Born to breathe we water weave

The plangent ice sings woe betide

Plumes from human inundation

Have made our skies a one-way door

A wall of pent-up energy

Call oceans north and south to war

Commanders of the tidal waves

With marching orders they proclaim

Send deluge forces on white horses

Their world of water will reclaim

Based on "The Chimes of Freedom" Bob Dylan

"Through the city's melted furnace, 
unexpectedly we watched
With faces hidden 

as the walls were tightening
As the echo of the wedding bells 

before the blowin' rain
Dissolved into the bells of the lightning"