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Showing posts from June, 2015

June poetry days - 15, 16, 17.

Glue  Experiment Your colour palette glues me to you Experiment with me and find my truth My meaning is yours so tangle me In your hands and catch my glitter Statuesque Politicise these curves Drag me screaming Your cause is not mine  Go create your storm That teacup is calling you

June days 12, 13 and 14!

Boxes Knife Ineptitude Ineptitude hides me, boxing me in Hauls me by my scruff and shakes hard Stifles my breath and grinds my teeth Plucks at my skin and leaves a burn Ruins my hair and makes my face a joke But the knife slices me free and the box lies empty.

June poetry days 10, 11 and 12.

Joy Forest Boxes The box lies on the mat, fat and waiting It sits, ambivalent and pleased with itself While you circle it and wonder why Nothing has been ordered you think And that suspicion creeps fast towards you A joke perhaps or something more Something worthwhile that a forest fell And is still falling to bring mysterious treats To a doorstep far away In the hope of joy awakening

June days 8 and 9

There's a haiku here, a sure sign of playing poetry catch up! Solitude Solitude wraps me in a blanket and offers a broad shoulder to cry on Newt A scaled foot in weed, The eye, watching you looking. Blinks and disappears.

June poetry days 6 and 7 - Sunburn and Sea

The sea carries its sunburn lightly tonight Dipping beneath the waves to sail the sky For the waking of the other side of the world

June poetry days 4 and 5 - behind already!! Indecision and Mindful

Indecision The indecision is mine The consequence yours I fight my troubled mind While you argue with yours If I turn away it is not in hate I have released you Accept it Mindful Thinking about Creator God The planet The seas People all over the world Everyone in my community Everyone not in my community Just everyone Keep some room for me. Be kind Thoughtful Remember others Try hard Do your best Accept the reality of your situation Strive Be brave Love Live.

Poetry day 3 - Kettle

Kettle Polly puts the kettle on when she is fed up.   This is a mistake because as she slams the dented red metal down on the kitchen table, hot water takes its cue and leaps out.   She watches as the scalding stream hisses towards her arm, bare to the elbow and waits for the bite.   She could have moved but she chose not to.   She could have screamed but she chose not to.   The mistress looked on fast movements and loud noises with little enthusiasm although she was four floors up.   When you least expected it, she would make a comment about the running of the house and you would lose your monthly afternoon off.   Polly spends the rest of the morning with a sore arm and worsening temper.   She needs that afternoon off this week. I decided to try prose today.  It might lead to something.  Or not.

June poetry day 2 - studio

 I've never been a dancer but this is how I imagine it might feel. Studio the studio is hot and dark there but light right here on go the lamps - bang - and the scene is real feet scratch the surface padding powder puffs trailing damp as a sign that we are at work music pounds a beat within though there is silence without movement is swift, contorted, full of painful lust the twists, the curves and stretch more and give more and keep giving more breathe now and smile.   you live this. show them.