Majestic giants of Peruvian air
Soaring gliding on thermal rise
Carefree canyon kings
Suncast shadows beneath them lies.
Free, untamed, spread their wings
They epitomise better things.
Author: poetry of every day
Welsh Poet in Gloucestershire
Impossible Friends
Darkness and light
They tried to meet
When light tried to find,
Darkness would retreat
Try as she might
Light searched in vain
This darkness mythical,
Light searched all the same.
As day searched for night,
An enigma apart.
The legend of night
Captivity would depart.
Light never saw darkness
Polar friends
Perpetual quest
It never ends.
One day light went out.
Darkness he stayed.
His life without light
Was how he’s made.
Somethings in life
Can never be.
For where there’s light
No darkness we’ll see.
Paths
Paths we walk them.
Walk them day by day.
Sometimes along the path
We rest for a time and stay.
The gradient can slow us
Or accelerate our pace
Sometimes we’re rained on
Sometimes feel radiance upon our face.
Facing forward, backwards
Up, down, side to side
Reflective, ignorant
Sometimes we hide
The path we take
A choice from A to B.
Sometimes certain,
Other times don’t see.
Your path, may be different
From what others take
But sometimes they cross
Paths our lives do make.
England verses Wales
Twas the eve before the big one
The Dragon verse St George
The men of Battle meet
In the principality forge
Many Don the uniform
For the game of games.
The Scarlet rugby Jersey
And a pint of reverend James.
From Monmouth to St Davids
And Penywaun miner’s club in between
A sea of crimson welshmen
Gathering are seen.
Calon lan and Cwm Rhondda
Sung from gathered crowd
Until the whistle sounds
Hymns and arias oh so loud.
Come you whitened chariots
To the Dragons ground
Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau
Rings proudly,
All around.
All us Welsh folk
Hoping England fails
What ever happens
You’ll know you’ve been to Wales.
Paraphrase
I’d like to say something
But not quite the way I should.
I wanted to say “posture”
Instead said “how they stood”
Words escaped like justice.
Finding the words to say
Not quite what I meant
Saying it a different way.
Expression of my essence
The person who is me
The expressions different
From what others see.
The post modern poet
The silent poet composed words within his head.
Nothing spoken, nothing said.
Observing life, the colours in the grey
Didn’t speak, didn’t say.
Witnessed the moments passed by from other folk.
Didn’t utter, never spoke
Didn’t wish to offend or provoke
Sentences of silence
Uttered outwardly within
Questioned his reality
A post modernity recluse
Attended trendy parties
Wearing a fashionable noose.
They didn’t say anything
Were they even there?
Sat and drank whisky
Into the empty glass did stare.
The Submarine Captain
The submarine Captain ordered a standard sub.
There in started his problems, after he set sail.
Twas on his maiden journey
That the systems started to fail.
The crew were utterly petrified
For at 500 fathoms sprung the leaks
The crew were beside themselves
As over tannoy, the Captain speaks.
“Men I’m awfully sorry.
It’s my grammatical error that’s caused out fate
I’m such a foolish Captain
And now it’s far too late!
For when I ordered a standard sub”
To the crew he pandered
” I didn’t write standard sub
Instead I wrote substandard”
Playground
Raindrops patter upon the playground pools.
The gangs of kids like monkeys in the zoo.
Fastinated, encapsulated, imagination unbound.
The boys play army with an armoury of sticks.
Tripping up each other, for thrills and kicks.
Clusters of children with idiosyncratic minds
Each their imagination open to unwind.
Free in the playground, playing out their life.
Where is that playground in our latter times.
Hidden, obscured, amidst the growing rules.
Conforming cajoling rules that prepare us well.
For working to pay the mortgage in the houses that we dwell.
Rember the playground where we left our unbound dreams?
The playground full of hope, potential packed in all its seams.
Stop this silly playing and put on this grey suit.
Forget your ambition, your child thoughts mute!
Join the race of rats and scurry well made runs.
Put down your sticks and pick up the real guns.
Dare you dream? With innocence of mind?
Who knows what future we may find?
Jump in pools of puddles and Muddy that grey suit.
The leaf
The leaf falls from the tree,
When the time is right.
This is the story prior
To its fall from living height.
Twas the spring in sunshine welcome
That its birth and life did start
And breath and living
From its chlorophyll heart.
It gave the air we breathe
As spring sprang forth to summer.
Journey to another season
Before its final slumber.
And long, that summer’s happy days
Basked in such golden light
Then summer to autumn
Ready its fall from height.
In the senescence of life
Oh contemplating leaf
Bid farewell.
Leaving autumn grief.
Laid to rest on earthy ground
Autumn turned to winter
As gently snow was found.
Then as the circle was complete
Winter giving birth to spring
Something miraculous
Again a new born thing.
The new leaf born
At that very height
Welcomed by the new spring sun.
Basking in its light.
Dedicated to Nancy. “There is poetry in everything”
Poetry of every day
The error of Wordsworth
I wandered lonely as a cloud
“Oi” said the cloud with abrupt distain
“I don’t wander mate
But do occasionally rain”
The poet taken a back
A talking cloud
Was it in his head?
Or said out loud?
“Oi I spoke to you
Poet chap,
I had to correct your
Erroneous crap”
“we’re shoved around
Like sardines tinned,
Jostled, bunched
By natures wind”
“Pardon” speaketh
The poet perplexed
For that’s how its written
In E Olde texts.
“You heard” said
The not so wondering cloud
“It’s the wind
That determines where we’re found.
Not a choice
that’s mine to make
But predetermined
Where the wind does take!”
“HARDLY A wandering
More a shove
In the atmosphere
Way above.”
“we’re not lonely either!”
The clouds lament
“We’re often together
Where we are sent”
And Wordsworth
Not wanting a cloud to fight
Wrote about daffodils
That came to sight.
For daffodils are less philosophical than clouds.
A much more appreciative crowd.
First Christmas
Clear dark velvet sky
Thousand stars twinkling bright
One shineth intensely brilliant
On that Christmas night.
Shining compass like
To humble lowly place,
To humanity divine,
Upon a new born’s face.
Ox and ass witness bore
The miracle of birth
Hope of hope unveiled
A hope upon the earth.
What shepherds gazed
A story made
Was born
This Christmas night.
Christmas Contentment
Smug sanctimonious satisfaction
As I rest at ease tonight.
For today I conquered the shopping,
Before the Christmas fight.
Sipping gin and tonic
Thinking I’m the knees of bees
Wait until Christmas day
When I’ve forgotten the batteries.
Dying isn’t always sad.
The eternal timer finally sounds
The final act of dying.
All alone with self
No tears no crying
It’s not sad to die
When sat upon the chair
Practical dying
The dying of ones hair
Dedicated to Mary
Who was dying alone this evening
The last gun fell silent.
The last gun fell silent,
After 9 million soldiers fell.
The sound of silence
After the rage of hell.
To stand in no man’s land
Your feet in poppy crimson red.
Listen to the silence
Of 9 million Whispering from the dead.
The silent whisper loudly
From graves to be marked in white
With silence we remember
The cost of the great wars fight.
Once each year they speak to us
And quietly silent say..
“Remember this moment”
“11th hour, 11th month 11th day”
Home time
It’s 10 to 4 and almost time to go
10 minutes away from the home time door.
Tick tock tick tock I am counting down.
The Friday feel, to smile from frown.
The clock is passing, what shall I do?
5 minutes more and no more blue.
It’s getting closer and closer still,
3 minutes left and time to kill.
Almost here, with moments to go
1 minute now, before the home time door.
This poem has taken 10 minutes of time.
And I’ve killed and filled by penning rhyme.
Bye bye, now its 4
At the end of this sentence
I’m through the door 🚪
Why don’t we learn
Our hearts go out to the fallen,
And we bow our head in shame
That lessons haven’t been learned
The news sadly the same.
Why why America?
Do you allow so many guns?
Will now you listen?
To save your daughters and sons.
Valley steps
Memories of the old times
Fondness gazing back
Precomplexity moments
Only wisdom did I lack.
Running the valley pathway
Through streets and mountain way.
Chatting on the steps
Until the cease of day.
Random conversations
Accompanied looks of distain
And lacking wisdom
Not thinking with my brain.
Was it distain or teasing
As daylight to dusk did turn.
Not in my youthfulness
Did I ever learn.
But as I grew older,
Along a complex path
I still look back with fondness
At two teens, innocent laugh.
Parallel lives that journey
Connected along the way.
But no longer Precomplexity
As life goes forward
Life’s complications has its way.
Could I change it?
If time travel button press?
If I ask the question?
Would the answer be yes.
Time with a good heart
Gentle wind of change, that whispers like a prayer.
Slowly usher with love filled palm
To a new world, still yet unimagined
Steadily resistant to corrupt ignorant mistakes.
Fortifying the resolve of a good man.
Time tenderly ticks tiredly tenacious.
As the road seems ever long changing quietly without notice..
Standing at the apex of history.
A new imagined place.
Where is the enquiring mind?
Where is the enquiring mind?
Nostalgia baked in the plaice of lies
Packaged served.
Stuck to our eyes.
What do we see?
If we see at all?
Ingested, infested
Make our world small.
Afraid to awake the enquiring mind.
Scared to be open to what we might find.
Unfiltered absorbance of multinarrative.
Unquestioning digestion of 21st manor.
Scofing and gorging
From the media table.
Breathe, step back,
If we are able.
Caught in the tide of information flow.
Tossed along where’er, don’t know.
Throw me the life line of an enquiring mind
Untie the snare that bind,
And let me see the Sun.
Deceptively Spacious
The agent proclaimed when showing buyers around
“it’s deceptively Spacious” for there’s room to be found.
In nocks and in crannies there’s plenty of space
Take a look, take your time, view at your pace!
What is deceptively Spacious? A molecular trick?
To entice the buyer to this house to pick.
Can I squeeze in this cove, a wardrobe so large?
“Of course” says the agent resembling Nigel Farage.
And you buy that small house so deceptively large.
Mansion inside, outside a barge
Full to the rafters piled with your shit
Squashing in furniture to tightly fit.
“Deceptively Spacious” is what the agent said.
The reality “Deceptively Spacious” is the estate agents HEAD!!
Weekend welcome
Friday the gateway to weekend
From Monday foe my Friday friend.
How I longed for your company sweet.
Kick off my shoes, put up my feet.
The comfort of Saturday morn
The lay in bed and yawn.
Sunday the final day of rest
Until Monday and rat race fest
911
A day like no other
two towers in the sky
The day they fell
Left us asking why
Like brothers standing together
Fell at each others side
We never forget
Mothers fathers brothers sisters son and daughters that died.
September 11th
Forget we never will.
Remembering the fallen
In silence standing still.
Welsh homecoming
To be Welsh is to be excited at a bridge.
Homeward bound to play a toll,
Sing to keep a welcome,
As over the seven you roll.
To the welcome of gathered clouds
To the valley rain so near
A few miles to the land,
Land held so dear.
Then arrive apon the hallowed ground.
Your beloved Wales is found.
And sigh of relief expel.
Relax, and know. All is well.
Be silent
Silence
Broken
Bang
Begins
Birth
Baby
Biography
Buried
Silence
Hope & Despair
Hope and Despair travelled the road,
They walked side by side.
Sometimes Despair rushed along
Hope would appear to hide.
Despair would race
At superhuman pace
Leaving hope without a trace,
Despair arrived in a lonely place.
Despair panicked, Calling out for Hope
Despair gasped for breath, feeling he’d choke.
Hope wasn’t far behind
But Despair in his panic blind
Couldn’t see Hope,
He couldn’t find.
Hope gently touched Despair.
Despair was glad Hope was there.
The Idyllic Man
In a small Idyllic town
Lived a small Idyllic man
Who you saw driving
A small Idyllic van.
And in his van Idyllic
He kept his Idyllic gift
And attend the lost and weary
Offering them a lift.
Enter they would downtrodden
And spill out all their woes
He would lend a listening ear
As they cried and spoke their lows.
Out spilling hearts of trouble
To the Idyllic little man
As they bare their problems
Ridding in the Idyllic little van.
And listening intently
With word of comfort here and there.
The Idyllic little man
Would show a little care.
And when the journey ended
And the destination reached
They knew they’d be listened to
And not patronised or preached.
Some would thank him
As they left the Idyllic van
But all would receive a gift
From the small Idyllic man.
He’d open the back
Pulling out the Idyllic gift.
It was a little box
So heavy, they couldn’t lift.
They’d say “how can it take it?”
To the small Idyllic man
With a smile he’d put it back.
In his small Idyllic van.
“You don’t” he said
“I keep it because I cared”
“it contains all the worries
And problems that you shared”
Slightly lighter they travelled onwards
But more freely they ran
Because of a listening friend.
Who’s your Idyllic little man?
Empathy Road
Empathic travel along life’s Road
Walking in shoes not owned.
All perspective other than own
To allow your mind to feel,
To touch, to know that other
The love of child by mother,
The loyal stance of brother,
The ernest lament of another.
To walk in shoes not my own
The weary heart alone.
Joy filled sunshine of family life
Heartache of family strife.
Ups and downs. Ins and outs.
The raving lunatic that shouts.
Can you step out of life that’s yours
And feel momentarily someone else’s cause.
To dare from insular shell to crawl
To feel for someone else’s fall.
To share happiness with no jealous trait.
To be a solid empathic mate.
This is Empathy Road.
It’s too hot to write a poem
It’s too hot to write a poem
In this heat wave, at this time.
Too lethargic and weary,
To put words to rhyme.
If only I had the energy
To find a creative spurt
In the blistering heat
And dry cracked dirt.
Where are you my energy?
Sapped by prolonged heat!
Unable to write poetry
From my tired seat.
Too hot and bothered
Too finish the next line
I’ll just sit here drinking
My glass of red warm….
Quiet & Loud
Quiet and loud
went on a date
Quiet waited.
Loud was late.
Loud, triumphantly entered
Causing a stir.
Quiet sat there,
Smiling, all demur.
“Sorry I’m late”
Boomed loud all excited
Quiet his charm
Didn’t fight it.
“Can I get you a drink? ”
Loud asked quiet
“May I have coke?
And please may it be diet? ”
“Bar keep a coke!
And make it diet!
For my lovely date!
Wonderful quiet!”
They tried to date,
But it was a disasterous riot.
Because where loud is;
You can’t have quiet!
Social loneliness
We friend request.
We chat and comment,
Any time day or night
A friend on line, in sight.
Unable to put our phone down
Companions to seek
No response, no like
The future very Bleak
Connection electronics
Poking, liking, share
But no touch, no intimacy,
Real human care.
Connected more than ever
Technologies gift.
More loneliness than ever
Technological rift.
Advanced communication
Is no communication at all.
If true relationship communication,
Under the bus,
Does fall.
Conformity!
Enslaved to what I’m told to think
Trapped inside society.
Drunk in conformity,
Unable to find sobriety.
In my mouth from babe in arms
Thrust societies feed
Where’s the Nurturing voice?
To think myself?
From conformity freed?
Schooled and cloned to pass the test.
Congratulations, your done!
Now join the rest.
In box, in square, put in there
Never at the corners tear
Never venture out the box
Putting on the same old socks.
Time onward ticks and tocks.
Building up conformity blocks.
Put down you phone
Switch off TV
Dare open the door?
And see….
Master of the Yard
As the evening sets on Brewery Yard,
With orange yellow glow,
The Master makes his rounds,
Through the terraced row.
He slinks on through
The open doors
As king of the yard
He walks the floors.
Not a care, not a thought,
No approval is sought
The black and white feline frame
Never ever will you tame.
Proud predictory precious paws
Wondering the the open doors.
You may spy him where your sat
The master of the yard! Scooter cat.
Fathers & Dads
Fathers, dads past and present
You will always fill our mind
Unique to our lives
No other to find.
You were and are
Our solid ground
When lost and sad
Your hug was found.
It’s easy to be a father
But I’m eternally glad
You weren’t just father
You are a loving dad.
There’s an Elephant in my Garden
There’s an Elephant in my Garden
It’s lived there a while
I don’t mind so much, except,
It leaves a steaming pile.
Don’t get me wrong.
The roses are love it.
They grow exceptionally well.
But there is an awful smell.
One reason why not
School today? What feelings provoked?
Anxiety high depression low.
Head down, no eye contact made.
The corridors, your motion slow.
Avoiding jocks, planning route.
Make it to class?
Hoping to make it
Through those you pass.
Make it to class,
A ping on your phone
You look down
Feeling very alone.
A message, a picture,
Your heart in your throat
Uneasy reading a bullying gloat.
Alone in your class
Surrounded by threat
Just being there making you sweat.
The ring of the bell
A break, but not for you!
You seek shelter
You hide in the loo.
Locked in a cubicle
Blocking out sound
Hoping desperately
Not to be found.
Repeat repeat
That day that week
Weeks into years
The hallways you sneak.
At home in your room
Your dad asks “You ok?”
“Good” you reply
At pretence you play.
Another message
Can’t get away
It carries on
Even after school day.
Thinking of ending it?
No where to turn?
Why can’t it stop!?
Peace you yearn.
You’re not alone.
There’s a place to go
People care
Click the link below
https://13reasonswhy.info/?country=58
MRI
Most regrettable information
Made real impact
Measuring revealed illness
Makes reflection inevitable
Magical revealing instrument
Medically relevant intervention
Magnetic resonance imaging.
This poem was inspired by a question on twitter, asking if a MRI could inspire poetry?
Parallel lives
Live life full to snow capped mountains.
Valley depths of cavernous flow
High potential seek fulfilment
Hide and slumber mine shafts low.
Seek the good and meditation
Closed eyes cower with condemnation.
Parallel lives a contemplation
Which path was my flow.
The Ginger Green Eyed Cat.
The ginger green eyed cat
Did a bit of this, a bit of that.
Prowling the streets alone
Scouring for a house so prone
Looking for an unlocked flap
Come in your house and knap.
Devour from a left out plate
Leave your house a right old state.
He didn’t care it wasn’t his
Leaving a clue of ginger fizz.
The green eyed ginger cat
On other people’s food grew fat.
His muddy paws stain your mat.
What you think of that?
He’d come on in, steal your milk
Be gone before you blink.
Never gave a thought at all
Stealing, adding to his haul.
The ginger green eyed cat.
Did a bit of this, a bit of that!
No words for friends
It was a long journey for two friends
They rested a little while
They’d wandered many a field and hill
Crossing many a style.
They said nothing as they sat
And watched the golden sky
Listening to the song bird.
Time just passed on by.
“it’s been worth it?”
Said one friend to the other.
“it has indeed.”
Replied the friend, more like brother.
They didn’t say much that day.
They knew each other well.
They’d always been there
For when the other fell.
Some friendships need no words
Rooted in solid ground.
They were just thankful
For the friendship they had found.
