Month: March 2018

Life confounds

What is it with life
it has ups and downs
pleasure , pain, joy
and heartbreak
do the rounds

Would that our lives
could, just be pleasure
No pain or woe
for us to measure.

Why is it, things
go so wrong
bad things happen
regardless just be strong

How do I deal
with the days
that are black
when the roof
caves in
the cheque
bounces back

I have to dig deep
in my reserve
in my internal resevoir
my beliefs must serve

What is it with life
it has ups and downs
pleasure, pain, joy
and heartbreak
life can confound

Samantha Beardon ©

World poetry Day entries from the Rising moon poetry group. Facebook.

#worldpoetryday

Reactions

The seed was planted long ago
In the pit of despair
That forms my stomach
Sending out acid tendrils
That snake around my trachea
And squeeze the breath
From my inflated lungs
That invade the neurons
Within my brain
Short-circuiting each connection
Each attempt to overcome
Or circumvent
The rising fear

What can I do for now
Except to hold on
For the heaving, bucking ride
It will take me on
And hope that some day
One day
I will learn what it means
To be alive
And not just to live
Within the cage formed
From panic gone astray

(c) 2018 Miriam Ruff

Luna
Someone told me
We all belong to the universe
We have to choose
To be a Stars or Planets
You say, you want to be a Star
You want to be surounded by Planets
You say, I too should be a Star
And I to should be as an equal
Or, I should be a planet ….
But, I don’t want to be neither one
I want to be just Luna
Why? Do you ask…
I say. Do not to be a Star?
Eventually, the Stars burn out
In their own flames
Extinguishing into a Dwarf
And I am not a planet
To rotate around a Star,
You say, but Luna
Is small, and insignificant
For universe
You say, my soul will set in darkness,
You say, I will need a Star
To rise in perfect light at night
You say I will be seeking light
For my survival
To be at least a visible for once
I will be only hold of a Star
Reflection
To shine only during night.
You say I will depend
On shine of the Star
Maybe so…
But, I can dim a Star
By puting it into my shadow.
Creating something so extraordinary
For everyone….
Eclipse….
And after all… I will be loved by many
And forever…
A&R 2018 # worldpoetryday

#worldpoetryday
This is an extended metaphor about poetry

Word Fish

I read eyes screwed,mouthing silent words
Carp or goldfish out of the pond eyes glazed
Words shaken and spilled across the table
Not food yet for a stranded fish
My feeble movements push a pile of words into a line
Ideas like unbudded lily pads float beside me
I need a barrier on which to lever myself
Or a line with a hook to anchor my mind to yours
The need to dive deep drives me
Will you look at this rippling image
Feel the depth of my need to communicate
As I make a journey into ideas
Eyes, screwed, mouthing words I etch on paper .

Samantha Beardon©

THE BEAUTY OF POETRY

So stunning you are
Coming at a time as this
Bringing sheaves of hope
Hope that knits love and faith

You came to me when I was down
Lifted me with such soothing words
Words that heals my heart
My heart is now aglow of you

Now you’ve beautified my ugliness
Brought me close to greatness
Greatness with purpose
Purpose turn into prosperous posterity

I see you all time in my sleep
I’ll not let you slip
You gave me platform of nobility
Now revel I in such credibility
Credibility turn into creativity
Creativity is now dignity

How beautiful you are
To my path of allurement
Gracious you are
To my betterment

Today is here
Here to celebrate you
What a being you are!
You’ve given me you
You for a keep
And I’ll keep you
For tomorrow’s reap

#Happy World’s Poetry Day

David Njoku

Poetry as visual Art

Poetry as Visual Art

Whilst poetry has an aural tradition we also read it and look at it. Therefore you should consider the look of your poem as well as the way ut sounds. Poetry should be visual art as well as gaving musicality and flow. Therefore the poet needs to also consider the visual aspect of the poem.

Poetry is also a visual art and if the words of the poem are centred it can suggest a spine of ink down the centre of the page, with the white space encroaching on it.
Take this poem by Dennis O’Driscoll for example – the lines look as if they are stacked up in a precarious Jenga tower, which contributes to the poem’s theme:
Life
Life gives
us something
to live for:
we will do
whatever it takes
to make it last.
Kill in just wars
for its survival.
Wolf fast-food
during half-time breaks.
Wash down
chemical cocktails,
as prescribed.
Soak up
hospital radiation.
Prey on kidneys
at roadside pile-ups.
Take heart
from anything
that might
conceivably grant it
a new lease.
We would give
a right hand
to prolong it.
Cannot imagine
living without it.
Dennis O’Driscoll

Unfortunately internet sites often mean we lose deliberate formatting which loses us a dimension in our poems impact.

Here is a poem by Miroslav Holub as you will see it on most websites

Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there’s
a tree, or a wood,
a garden,
or a magic city.
Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog’s rummaging.
Maybe you’ll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture
of a picture.
Go and open the door.
If there’s a fog
it will clear.
Go and open the door.
Even if there’s only
the darkness ticking,
even if there’s only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.
At least
there’ll be
a draught.

The Door
by Miroslav Holub

Shaped
Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there’s
a tree, or a wood,
a garden,
or a magic city.

Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog’s rummaging.
Maybe you’ll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture
of a picture.

Go and open the door.
If there’s a fog
it will clear.

Go and open the door.
Even if there’s only
the darkness ticking,
even if there’s only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.

At least
there’ll be
a draught.

The Door
by Miroslav Holub

This is how it was designed to be read. It adds another dimension.

And if the poem is aligned to the right this might instil a sense of instability, with the reader casting their eyes about looking for the start of each line which is floating in space rather than aligned left, where we usually expect to find it when reading.
For example this unsettling poem by Sam Riviere is made more unsettling because of its layout:

Gothic Poem
wider than a library
& strewn with flyleaves
torn from 2nd-hand novels
a grave lays in a plot of sun
like an abandoned picnic
& somewhere nearby a green bonfire
in the background a maroon lawnmower rides onto the pavement

Compare it to this more traditional way of alignment:

Gothic Poem
wider than a library
& strewn with flyleaves
torn from 2nd-hand novels
a grave lays in a plot of sun
like an abandoned picnic
& somewhere nearby a green bonfire
in the background a maroon lawnmower rides onto the pavement

The imagery is still unsettling but the whole thing feels less jarring.

This is another dimension to consider in writing poetry in particular free verse, line length, line placement and use of white space. In addition to your imagery, words and metaphors.

© S. Beardon

Uniqueness

What is it, about our uniqueness,

Should it exist?

 Is it seen as a weakness,

To be burnt away, like mist,
Our spark and our idiosyncrasies,

Does society want us to conform,

Join the herd, act in ways that please,

Step in line, stay within the norm,
What is it about, your uniqueness,

That I celebrate and applaud,

Your honesty, drive and genius,

Your flaws I also laud,
What is it, about my uniqueness,

That I cherish and nurture,

The me that exists, that’s not seamless,

My drive for happiness, still a searcher,
Our spark and idiosyncrasies,

Should be cherished,

They are the oil and the antifreeze,

That fuel creativity, not see it perished.

Uneven laces

Ugly black laceups

like shiny leather shoe-boxes

slight squeak when I walked…

and I had to buy them
how I hated those shoes
First day dressed early

collar constricting and scratchy

apron swishing

the upside down watch

pen in pocket, hair neat and tidy

topped with starched cap

nurse kit in motion, stepping into the classroom

black clad foot on the first rung of the ladder
The navy blue clad tutor

with the wide frilly starched hat

Read us the rules

Then she inspected us,

Most of us were in trouble hats too big

hair untidy, shoes tied incorrectly

little misdemeanors demonstrating our

unsuitability to make the grade
My misdemeanor

those shoes

Laced incorrectly
I hated those shoes
When I qualified as a staff nurse

New neat black shoes …

no squeak as I walked

both feet firmly climbing the ladder.
This is the much edited version of a posting from last week a huge transition. To a much tighter piece.
Here is the original
Shoes, ugly black clumpy laceups looking like shoes boxes

leather, shiny with a slight squeak when I walked

I had to buy them

hospital issue, I paid they supplied

how I hated those shoes

their only saving grace the first step in my new career
It was all about the right image

skirt measured six inches from the floor

height of hat

belt colour demonstrating status

flat black shiny shoes Thick black stockings

starched apron, worn when working

Removed for meals

Collarless Grey cotton dress, white piped sleeves

three dresses to last the week

7 stiff white starched collars, 6 collar studs

12 pearl buttons with metal fasteners

7 starched white aprons

3 white starched cotton shapes to be folded into hats

one pair of ugly sturdy black shoes

Navy cloak with a red lining

The nurses kit

The basis for the next three years
The first day I wore it I was so excited

On the threshold of being Nurse Ok student nurse

my black clad foot on the first rung of the ladder

Collar attached to the dress, constricting and scratchy

Apron buttoned at the back the bib pinned

with safety pins to my dress

I added the upside down watch

A pen in my pocket, hair neat and tidy

I stepped from girl to nurse as I walked

into the classroom to meet my peers

Anxious but so proud
My misdemeanor those shoes

Laced incorrectly

I hated those shoes

Rules and responsibilities

Disipline a corner stone of our training
When I qualified as a staff nurse

and the rules relaxed, they were discarded.

New black shoes for the modern staff nurse.

Youthfulness v Age

Twenties feels shy
No self confidence, didn’t pull the guys
Body language, tended to say, dont talk, go away

Thirties feels better, career confidence, go getter
Maybe still a little self conscious, in the social whirl but gets better
Body language more open ,comprehensive, come talk, am groving

Forties, lives life, career rocketing
Good social life, develops hobbies life more astonishing
Body language open, strengths known, come talk and smile with me

Fifties, wanting to change, career pressures become a pain
Realises the need to nurture the self, easier then to explain
Body language confident open, master of experience, come spark with me

Sixties self fulfilled, feels youthful, body in tune, chilled
Seems to have matured like fine wine, feels more attractive more aligned
Body language all inclusive, reinvented, jumping fences, come fly with me.

Age today, is not about getting old
Youthfulness is lifestyle, BE BOLD.

Soliloquy

Serendipitous soliloquy
Does this tirade scan iambically
I pace the floor shouting my declaimation
Trying to rid myself of my consternation

You swore you loved me, chased and wooed me
I began to trust became your devotee
How could I become sucked in to this morass
I feel a sad rejected lass

My ego has nose dived my world has rocked
I am feeling such dismay my system is shocked
This drama is unfolding as I play my scene
Wishing like Shakespeare the villain could intervene

Or at least eavesdrop on this great soliloquy
Instead of an audience composed of just me
I hope across the ether the echoes resonate
Making you aware of my solitary debate

The Beast from the East

England has unusually heavy snow falls

Written in the Triolet form

The beast from the East

Snow beautiful, white, pristine falls
Blankets the landscape causes chaos
Gales from Siberia whoosh, life stalls
Snow beautiful, white, pristine falls
Drifts on roads, traffic stuck,life mauls
All night in cars and vans pathos
Snow beautiful, white, pristine falls
Blankets the landscape causes chaos

Snow beautiful white pristine falls
Blankets the landscape causes chaos
Trains cancelled, roads blocked,squalls
Panic buys,see stores empty walls
Hear the warnings stay at home calls
Cold biting, homeless life pathos
Snow beautiful white pristine falls
Blankets the landscape causes chaos.