Posted: April 11, 2017 in nature poems
Tonight at dverse Lillian wants us to take the top song of the year we were born and weave its title into a poem. Mine is Riders in the Sky by Vaughn Monroe ~ the big hit of <cough> 1949
Black specks of gulls
smudge a bloodied sky
as they head away
to roost for the night.
These riders of
the air spend daylight
blade whirling over town,
filling it with their
banshee cries. But
before a fierce setting
sun they become mute,
slip away down river
to some hidden place
and are pinned there
by the silence of stars.
darkest of hours to
noiseless hunters that
cleave apart shadows
filled with light.
Posted: March 27, 2017 in thought stream, urban poems
It’s quadrille night at dverse and De has asked us to write a 44-word poem that includes the word ‘balloon’. This idea was penned earlier today in an Exeter café bar!
Rising up into a black ceiling,
all those word balloons
floating out, an unintelligible
cacophony. Just snatches heard.
I’m a glorified stewardess really.
It was a nasty moment.
Moving mouths, gestures thrown
around the café bar.
All those emotions discarded
over Americanos and lattes.
Posted: March 21, 2017 in nature poems
At dverse tonight Paul Dear asks us to write a poem about rivers. The photo is an initial scribbling in my notebook of an idea for this poem – plus doodle!
He was a piece of night,
A crow smudging daylight
and in his eye a star was trapped.
He wept it free on high moors
and it began to run
gathering up a thousand
It led them to a hollow,
there they pooled and waited.
a cloud burst of crows,
a dam breaks,
a galaxy streams downhill,
sears through the valley.
Posted: March 16, 2017 in urban poems
Host at dverse tonight is Bjorn and continues the series on art movements. Today we have to compile a poem in the form of impressionism – which in art focussed on modern life, colour more than detail, visual effect of light. So I sat in my favourite coffee shop …..
Light leaps in
from the street,
in dark corners,
lemon wood tables,
splashes coffee that’s
Baristas flicker across
a stone coloured floor
and hands are caught
in a keyboard blur.
Platinum hair swings
as she leans forward.
Red ceiling lamps
smudge the eyes
can’t find the shadows.
My work on the poem at the coffee shop
Posted: March 14, 2017 in thought stream, urban poems
Lilian hosts poetics at dverse tonight and wants us to write about amusement parks.
From up here I look for an escape route,
but a way out is lost from view.
Everyone is queuing for the big
thrills, refugees from the humdrum
seeking a new voltage for their nerves.
To stretch them tighter until they tear
and escape screaming through
the open mouths
that have become their bodies.
This was a mistake. Through darkness
my ride twists and dives. In this vacuum
it is pointless knowing which way is up as
seamless fear stitches mind to body.
A hessian sack of nothingness
flung into a black hole,
tracing an arc through pin-prick stars.
Only a violent
brings me back to earth.
I lose myself in the crowd.
Move against an electric current
to find that safe static place.
Posted: March 13, 2017 in nature poems, urban poems
At dverse tonight Kim is hosting and we are producing a 44-word Quadrille which includes the word ‘spring’.
In our street, car windscreens
are craze-cracked. White lace
netting glitters in a steel spring morning.
I fear for yesterday’s buds.
You could hear them then
breaking free on the fine ends
of tree branches.
They’ll be cracking to a different
tune this morning.