Sunday, 22 April 2018

A New Poem - Daffodil Destruction

I am usually very much against poetry that doe not rhyme. Of course when I put this view to friends and others alike, I am inundated with examples of non-rhyming examples. But today, I was in a hurry to complete a poem and found that rhymes were not forthcoming. And so, I found myself writing what I would normally call a piece of prose. OK, it is based on lines and at least it has a metre of sorts, but I feel that I have failed. It is a compromise which I am not really happy with. You might say it is out of my comfort zone but I was desperate to get out of the "Slough Of Despond" I have found myself in over the past couple of weeks.

A vase of floribunda daffs, blown down by a storm

So, aims achieved, I present a new poem. Actually I used the same prompt for this poem that I used for the poem in the last post. Of course it was a prompt which could be interpreted in a very free way. It was provided once more by my friend Monna Ellithorpe, one of her weekly writing prompts.

Make up your own mind and please feel free to criticise, or otherwise, in the comments section below. The poem is called ................

Daffodil Destruction

We had a beautiful array
Of daffodils in our garden.

People passing
Had commented on the colours,
Of the late spring display.

But that wind
Blew up fast, from out of nowhere
And kicked the best for six

The floribunda,
With their heavy heads bowed;
Were no match, and fell prostrate.

I found them,
Their heads in the dirt this morning.
Wistfully, I collected the fallen heroes.

An assignment
Beckoned, to make them proud;
A gift for a mothers grave.


Saturday, 21 April 2018

A Crumpled Sheet Of Paper - A New Poem

Another difficult poem. I selected a prompt for this with an idea in mind. It is not quite what I had planned but it is what it is. A very untenable / illogical metaphor. I offer the poem with no further eplanation and make no apologies if it seems to make no sense.

A crumpled sheet of paper

A crumpled Sheet of paper,
It has no use, no more.
It's final destination,
That trash can on the floor.

A page so full of memories,
A story barely told;
Well written, but forgotten.
Disallowed from growing old.

A faded, yellow page.
The words no longer clear.
So difficult to read now,
But it still brings forth a tear.

But I cannot bear to lose
that which had meant so much.
In better times, supporting me,
an undeniable crutch.

I'll make a promise to myself,
I'll find a way to free
That crumpled sheet of paper,
Bring it back, as it should be.

Monday, 16 April 2018

Winding Rivers, A New Poem

Winding Rivers

                                       water colour painting by the author

Winding rivers
Sending shivers
Mental quivers
My life withers

Raging torrents
Stormy comments
Constant torments
Makes no real sense

So demanding
Lifelong stranding

What's the meaning
No redeeming
Constant screaming
Pain repeating

Inside my head

A new poem from a prompt which surprised me, kinda came from nowhere.  Without further comment this time.

Monday, 2 April 2018

A little more nonsense from a poetic prompt

Well now I was missing my regular weekly writing prompt due to Easter and so I turned to google this week.Well I looked at many different prompts before I found one which seemed to turn my head. It was actually about morning being the best time for magic (?) well who knew, but I added a soupcon of another prompt and this poem developed on the page (or screen as it happened).

You might know that the weather is a standard, fall-back topic of conversation for us Brits because of our wonderfully creative weather and a the fact that we are really quite reserved when meeting and talking to people. In fact I have written many time before about various aspects of the weather. For example:- A Blast From The Past,  My Poetry Takes A New DirectionThe Wind And I.

In fact just browsing thru this blog for these few examples I realise I have written more poems about "Morning" and different aspects of a new day. I find that I have sadly forgotten many; I guess I need to sort out another book of poems.

Anyway where was I, oh yes - a title? What else but, "Morning In The Rain". Not very catchy, but I always have problems with titles. Usually the last thing I do with a poem.

Morning In The Rain

Another rare morning
Spring in the air
A red sky is warning
I'd better beware

You know what they claim
The weather could turn 
A whole new ball-game
Will I ever learn

Don't trust the weather
Mom always advised
You'll find that its never
worthy of compromise

So dress for comfort
But back-up your choice
You know that you ought
To heed mom's good advice

Another thin morning
It's cool, beginning to rain
Can't stand here talking
Nice to meet you again

Well that's it, hope you liked it. Hardly cartries an earth shattering message but then that's me. Down to earth and real.

Wednesday, 28 March 2018

Still writing, this one a poem for laughs

Well, back again for another new poem written using a Prompt from the Weekly Writing Prompt from my friend Monna, have you visited her site yet?

I was looking out for this one and when it came at first I scatched my aging head. But I took up the challenge of a bonus prompt! To create a short story or poem of your own that is totally unbelievable or ridiculous.

Well, how to start? As usual, I selected the first idea which came into my head and that just happend to turn into the first line of the poem. I called it, Moonwalk. Here it is I hope it makes you smile.


I took a little walk last week
To the moon and back
I climbed a shining moonbeam
And I took a little snack.
I knew it would take a while
So I took along our Jack.
Great company with his pet monkey;
Which I think is a macaque

Along the way we were treated
To an astronomic thrill.
Passing meteors and rainbows
We danced an old quadrille
We had such fun, the three of us
But could only stay until
We remembered it would soon be time
To head back to Jacksonville

The title came to mind after the last word in the poem. I did not start with a title in mind, but let the poem just take me where it will. The last line needed a rhyme and Jacksonville popped up. After that the title seemed to put itself forward for me. I dont often think too hard about what I am writing, as far as I am concerned it is all a bit of fun. Although sometimes, rarely, it is about sad memories.

Well there you are another poem thanks to Monna, and do visit her blog, especially if you are a beginning writer and hope to self publish. I  managed to self-publish my first book on Amazon with Monna's advice.

Saturday, 24 March 2018

Poem - "My Dog Ran Off With The Keys"

Can't believe that I am started to write again, creatively. But having just a few prompts to choose from instead of hundreds on the majority of sites which offer to provide them seems to concentrate the mind, I would recommend it to anyone enduring "writers block" or simply a lack of time.

Try this weekly prompt, just 2 or 3 offered on the site owned by Monna Ellithorpe which will offer a gateway to many more pages by Monna.

Mmmm, this one was a lot more light-hearted than the last. I enjoyed (and found myself silently laughing) whilst I put this one down on paper, well on to the screen. Hope it makes you smile too. Oh beware the french; a little trick to make a rhyme. I do feel that rhymes are so important.

My dog ran off with the keys

My dog ran off with the keys to my car.
its true, please believe what I say.
The distance from home to here is so far,
I'm just lucky to get here today,
At all!

How on earth did it happen, you want to know.
Well, I was just letting him out for a wee;
When I happened to sneeze, I dropped the keys
and he ran off, overjoyed to be free.
You see!

My phone was inside, what was I to do?
Had to follow the dog, for sure.
Lest he lost the keys, dropped me in the stew
with no means of contacting vous,
cet jour.

So pardonez-moi, I'm here at last
And ready to do what you need.
I'm ready and willing and able if asked,
except for one little problem, this hound on the lead.
No keys, no car, no home so far
had to bring the dog!

The prompt for this piece was actually, "Make up a creative reason for being late to an important function." Don't know why this sprang into my head, we don't even have a dog these days; our last pooch passed away a number of years ago. But it did and I like the outcome. 

Until the next time ....................

And do keep on writing.

Friday, 23 March 2018

A poem, "You Hide But Nobody Seeks"

I am still following up on the writing prompts posted by my friend Mona Ellithorpe, this weeks gave me the title for another poem. I know someone who I care for very much who has suffered from  aquired brain damage cause by a viral infection, the prompt, "you hide but nobody seeks ...", made me think of that person and this poem was written with them in mind.

You hide but nobody seeks

You hide but nobody seeks
you listen but nobody speaks
you look but no one is there
you cry but nobody cares

you hide yourself away
its another quiet day
your friends have long since gone
you've changed and they walked on

you never were to blame
but it happened all the same
an accident that left you changed
an accident, not prearranged

It never was your fault
that built this stifling vault
the man you were has passed away
look now, look to another day

to you your new life beckons
it only took a second
at least that's all you knew
until you learned what you'd been through

forget the past, mourn for that man
but live for tomorrow, yes you can
accept your new life and be awake
to opportunities that you can take

New friends will rally in your life
don't hide away you have a life
It can be good, it's not the same
but you never were to blame

I always capitalise my poems on each line and am obsessive about punctuation, but this time it did not seem important, even the title was an afterthought -- I have edited it into the post and added an image.

If this poem touched you then you may also like this earlier poem Helpless, which is very much connected to this one, you can find it on this blog from a few years ago