Tuesday 31 October 2017

The End - #Inktober day 31 part 2!

The End

It is the end of the road.
My journey is done. 
It is bittersweet to put down my pen.
After weeks of introspection,
Of creative immersion, 
It is strange to think that this is the end. 

I will still write, create, rhyme,
I have found a way to commit my time, 
To the empty page, 
And with ink-stained fingers smudging my days, 
I will write. 
Free of obligation, 
But obsessed with the sensation
Of creation,
Of something new, 
Of ordering my thoughts in to stanzas and phrases, 
Giving up my hours to spend my days in poetry.

Another road lies ahead,
I spy a novel in the distance, 
I have given all of myself to words, 
To these notebooks,
To this pen.
And although this month is done,
Though the challenge is complete, 
This will never quite manage to be,

The End. 

I’m done! My #Inktober is over! 32 poems in 31 days. I think I’ve earned a cup of tea and a nap. 

Thank you to everyone who’s commented, liked, shared, critiqued and encouraged. And keep an eye on my blog for more new poetry. I can’t stop now, can I? 

All Hallows Eve - #Inktober day 31!

All Hallows Eve

Now is the time for witches and wolves, 
Whispers in the walls, 
Cold stone corridors, 
The creak of that heavy door, 
Something just glimpsed, 
Slightly out of sight, 
Spectres and hauntings and the dark kiss of night.

There are howls, 
There are cackles, 
And the atmosphere crackles with tension, 
With worry.
I am sorry, 
That I did not believe,
Until it was too late.
Perhaps it was fate, 
And we'll never retrieve, 
What we lost from our sanity, 
As we dance through calamity, 
On All Hallows Eve.

A halloween poem for the final day of #Inktober. Keep an eye out for another poem later today to celebrate completing my #Inktober poetry challenge! 

Monday 30 October 2017

It Eats You From The Inside - #Inktober day 30

It Eats You From The Inside 

It eats you from the inside, darling, 
Makes it like you never were. 
It will haunt you, it will hold you, 
It will welcome your return. 

You shouldn’t have been there, my love,
Should have left things well alone, 
But you fret, and you followed. 
And soon you will be gone. 

You didn’t need to see this, my sweet, 
You didn’t need to know. 
Now you’re haunted by the spectres, 
You’ve seen death, and you will go. 

It eats you from the inside, darling. 
Your guilt, your only friend.
If you could have only stayed right there, 
This would not be your end. 

Todays #Inktober poem - an early Halloween effort. If you like it, please share! 

Sunday 29 October 2017

Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner - #Inktober day 29

Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner

For breakfast, I had an apple. 
Sliced it.
Put a small, square pot of peanut butter on the plate,
And in a state of semi-conscious confusion, 
Facing last nights delusion that one more chapter couldn't hurt, 
Thinking sleep-deprivation can't get much worse, 
Contemplating the concept of tar-thick black coffee,
I raise my phone and snap a picture, 
Of sliced apple on a plate and a dish of peanut butter.
Upload it.

#EatingWell
#EatingClean
#HealthyBreakfast
#KeepingLean

Lunch is rushed and unhealthy and I don't photograph it.
Someone asks me what I'm eating,
And my appetite, already fleeting, fled.
I'd rather be dead than explain my meal in person, 
And if it doesn't go on Instagram, 
It didn't really happen.
But the screen glows on my face, 
As I check the likes from breakfast, 
Keep myself connected, 
Plugged in to this collective, 
Comparing my life in snapshots and hashtags.
Honestly, I know it's mad,
But it makes me feel better.
Almost nourished.

#Blessed
#Wellness

There's a sunset on my walk home.
A blaze of colours in the sky,
Flaming clouds, 
And I almost drown in the sounds
Of cars rushing by, 
A I stop at the roundabout,
And photograph it.
Add a filter.
Make the colours sing.
Share it, 
Hope someone else takes pleasure in it, 
Likes it.
And in that liking I will be connected.

#Nature
#Beauty
#ThisIsSomethingYouShouldSee

Dinner is lonely, 
But perfect and simple.
I take pleasure in preparation, 
In the processes,
In temporary separation from the world I'm plugged in to.
Stirring rice in slow circles, 
The hypnotic meditation of repeated action.
Taking time with the plating, 
The pouring of a glass of wine, 
Antique bread tin as a back drop,
And I plug myself back in.
Snap.
Then upload.
As if I wouldn't be eating this alone on the sofa.
Watching likes count up in place of a human connection.

#Dinnertime
#Foodie
#GlassOfWine
#Truly
#Really
#Please
#JustLikeMe

Todays #Inktober poem - on instagram and meals. If you like it, please share!

Saturday 28 October 2017

Flowers In Winter - #Inktober day 28

Flowers In Winter 

There is frost on your petals, 
You shouldn’t be here, 
It’s too late or too early, 
It’s the wrong time of year. 

You have pushed up through snow, 
You have raised up your head, 
And even though it is winter, 
You’re not dormant or dead. 

You have lived through storms, 
Fought the wind and the rain, 
And you, precious flower, 
Will bloom again and again. 

Todays #inktober poem. If you like it, please share! 

Friday 27 October 2017

Fishnets and gin - #inktober day 27

Fishnets and Gin

I’m not crying, I’m just leaking gin. 
Don’t think I’m letting those feelings in. 
They’ll slip through, like water through nets of fish, 
If you can do one thing,
Then I wish you’d stop taking things seriously. 
Sit down, smile and live, 
Don’t consider me, 
Do what you need, forgive. 

Todays #inktober poem - based on a couple of strange prompts! If you like it, feel free to share. 

Thursday 26 October 2017

It Wasn't Bad -#Inktober day 26

It Wasn't Bad

Bowed heads, hushed,
As if in prayer.
The silence of anticipation.
A backdrop of shuffled seats and ice clinking in glasses.
Then words.
Introductions and explanations first.
Then words
In such a rush,
Spinning images and sounds
From 26 letters and carefully placed pauses
And round after round of applause
As we sink in to sunlight and leaves, 
Flocks of geese, 
Eros and Agape, 
Article 50 and Theresa May,
Wistful longing.
Then, suddenly, a name called, 
And pushing through the throng
To upturned faces and hopeful eyes.
That thudding heartbeat and "Oh God, why?
I have nothing to give to this strange magic of words, 
All I have left to give is my nerves."
With shaking hands and pounding blood,
Unleashing a torrent, A flood
Of fear and anger and scribblings that feel too adolescent for this crowd, 
And it feels too loud, 
And far too slow.
Then all of a sudden it's time to go.
It's done.
Finished.

And it wasn't bad.

Day 26 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. A poem about performing my poetry live for the first time, at an amazing event last night. If you like it, please share!

Wednesday 25 October 2017

Winter/Summer - #Inktober day 25

Winter/Summer

It's a night like any other,
I stumble home and dream of winter,
Strip off another layer, 
Swelter, think of the way
Your cheeks will flush, 
Whipped by wind and rain, 
The crackle of fallen leaves around your ankles,
The quiet giggles, 
As your nose wrinkles at the cold.
I dream, and it's summer, and I swelter.

It's a day like any other, 
I lay back and dream of summer, 
Wrap myself in one more blanket,
Shiver, think of riverbanks, 
Nudged by boats, 
Trailing our hands in the water, 
The crisp crack and hiss of a can of beer, 
The head-thrown-back laugh 
Of someone happy to be right here.
I dream, and it's winter, and I shiver.

Day 25 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. If you like it, please share!

Tuesday 24 October 2017

St Edmund - #Inktober day 24

St Edmund

There might be truth to the legend, 
Lost in devestation.
Handed down throughout the centuries,
Is the story of our Edmund.

There was a king, or noble Saxon, 
There is the story of a martyr, 
There was a face on a coin, 
In a poem he was born in fire.

In your ire you may tell me, 
That there are no primary sources, 
That of course we can't be sure, 
That there aren't enough resources.

But there's a face on a coin,
There's a king and there's a martyr.
There's a patron saint, 
Dead of denial, 
Who may have been born in fire.

Sometimes there's a brave wolf, 
Who leads the searchers to his head, 
After Ivar and his brother, 
Shot their arrows, left him dead.

And in the town where he rests, 
We celebrate his story, 
We disdain those vicious danes, 
We agree his death was gory.

There is no such thing as a single truth, 
But there will always be the legend, 
Of a king, 
A Saxon, 
A coin, 
A martyr, 
Of our patron saint, Edmund.

Todays #Inktober poem, celebrating the patron saint of my home town. If you like it, feel free to share!

Monday 23 October 2017

Daydreams - #Inktober day 23

Daydreams

It's not all that difficult to imagine I'm somewhere else,
It happens so often.
I haven't taken my mind to work in months.
While I go through the motions time and time again, 
Of this over-rehearsed dance that might never reach its end, 
I'm somewhere else in my head.
Somewhere in the sun perhaps, 
Or at least somewhere warm,
Finally finding solitude
Or slavishly adored by a thousand admirers, 
All pouring me a drink.
I tie my apron, get down to work, 
And then I start to think,
About a cabin in the woods, 
A fireplace and mulling wine,
Though some days, honestly, just the woods would be fine.
Some days I just crave air-con, 
Or a walk in pouring rain.
And sometimes there's a story, 
Sometimes magic, 
Often mundane.
Some days I live a thousand lifetimes, 
A thousand kisses, never pained.
Some days there's a common thread,
I've finally succeeded.
Some days my mind is fractured, 
And my fantasies recede in to snippets, 
Lives I'd like to live.
And if I give myself credit, 
Then occasionally I do concentrate, 
Focus on the task at hand, 
Keep my station manned, 
But the fantasies intrude, 
These charming interludes,
These daydreams and creations of my vivd imagination, 
Are the reason I wasn't really listening, 
And have no answer to your question.

Day 23 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. If you like it, feel free to share!

Sunday 22 October 2017

Literally - #Inktober day 22

Literally

I literally can't.
This isn't hyperbole.
Not some silly way of saying I don't want to, 
But you're asking for something I literally can't do.
It's not figurative, 
The way I can't tolerate you.
I literally can't begin to understand, 
That think piece on how you just want to hold hands.
It's something I can't get my head around, 
That you can't see your voice is irrelevant right now.
I can't even comprehend, 
That I could be in the wrong now, 
For standing up for myself,
For how long I've kept my voice down.
I'm figuratively sorry for you, 
Sarcastically, regretfully, insincerely feeling bad, 
That a tiny amount of the privilege you've had, 
That right you're entitled to, 
To smirk and wink and flirt, 
Could be taken away,
So we can get to work.
Really, it's tragic,
That you can't work your magic,
But I literally, 
Really, 
So truly, 
Can't understand,
What gives you the right to touch my hand.

Todays #Inktober poem. In response to men who worry about their right to workplace flirting in the wake of Harvey Weinstein. 

Saturday 21 October 2017

If I Could - #Inktober day 21

If I Could

If I could just put pen to paper, 
I'd make a character, create her, 
Send her on a journey, 
Have her prove that she is worthy, 
Send her far and bring her back, 
Save her from attack, 
Give her challenges and trials, 
Play with her for a while.
If I could just put pen to paper, 
I could make her.

If I could just write something down, 
There'd be stories all around.
I'd manage a kind of magic, 
Tell you something tragic, 
Break your heart with words.
I know it sounds absurd,
But I could make something so clever, 
Something you could love forever.
If I could just write something down, 
I'd write it for you now.

If I could just fill up these pages,
Break these tales out of cages, 
I'd make something that can last,
I would find things from the past, 
Make a future and a present, 
Gift-wrap them, make it pleasant, 
I would give you all these words, 
I would write away these hurts.
If I could just fill up these pages, 
I'd write something for the ages.

Day 21 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. If you like it, please share!

Friday 20 October 2017

I'm Sorry - #Inktober day 20

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry,
I really am, 
I'd love to help you process this, 
But I just don't understand.
I haven't been there, 
Haven't seen it,
I haven't learnt the empathy.
I just don't know how to know you, 
How to see you, 
I would love to.
But instead I'll hold your hand, 
I can't be your sword, 
You need that.
But I'd try to be your shield.
Maybe I can help.
I won't try to make you happy,
I could simply be your friend.

#Inktober day 20! If you like it, please share!

Thursday 19 October 2017

Goddamnit Poe, Again? - #Inktober day 19

Goddamnit Poe, Again?

I wake up in a gothic tale.

Instead of my alarm there's a raven cawing.
I think he had something to say, 
But it's too early in the morning.
Every floorboard creaks
As I go about my coffee-making, 
The kettle makes ominous gurgles,
For a second my hands start shaking.
Then I remember this is simply gothic,
Strange noises have no real power.
But I keep my wits about me,
While I take my morning shower.
Phantom shadows flutter 
At the edge of every mirror,
And I wonder at the thought
That my patience could wear thinner,
When I hear something tapping, 
Gently rapping at the window.
Poe has a lot to answer for, 
I don't want to live his tropes.
I sigh, opening the curtains
To see nothing but the mist,
And I check sinister noises
Off my gothic tale checklist.
I step bravely out the door
Into fog and almost-rain.
I hear footsteps just behind me, 
I'm being stalked again.
And I know what should happen next, 
That I should gasp or swoon or run.
Being a heroine of this story?
It really won't be fun.
I should clutch a candelabra.
My bosom should be heaving.
I should listen to the whispers, 
Should forget all thoughts of leaving.
The shadows in the mist
Speak of things best left to rest, 
And I know it's just a tale
But my heart pounds in my chest.
That monster would have chased me, 
Would take me in a rage, 
But I remember what to do now.
I can simply turn the page,
Take control of this story,
Put these monsters back to bed,
Wake up again in sunshine.
I'm so sorry Poe.
The End.

Todays #Inktober poem. Inspired by the morning mist and vivid nightmares. If you like it, please share!

Wednesday 18 October 2017

I Will Write You - #Inktober day 18

I Will Write You

I will write you words of power, 
I will write you words of pain, 
I will write you magics, 
Whispers, 
Dreams, 
And kisses in the rain.

I will write you an adventure, 
I will write you far-off lands, 
I will write you a tiger, 
One who asks questions,
And puts flowers in your hands. 

I will write you on a journey, 
I will write you somewhere new,
I will write you people, 
Rivers,
Secrets,
And skies of endless blue. 

I will write you wonders, darling, 
I will write you something strange, 
I will write you an epic, 
A marvel, 
A spectacular, 
Then write you home again.

Todays #Inktober poem. Something shorter, sweeter, and a little more tranquil. If you like it, feel free to share! 

Tuesday 17 October 2017

Me Too - inktober day 17. (CN sexual assault)

Me Too.

Me too. 
And me. 
And them.
And you. 
Believe us, hear us, see us, it’s true. 
These people assigning victim status, 
Deciding which crime is perfect and looking for complicity,
It’s shitty how many tines we have to say it, 
When we know you always knew. 
The hand on the leg, the pretend smiles, 
The staying a while and pleading for rescue, 
The being quiet or get shouted down, 
Or “Why didn’t you say something? 
Why did you wait til now?
Of course it’s the perpetrator who’ll be punished.
Not you. 
Never you. 
Victim blaming’s a myth, it’s not true.”
This idea of being punished isn’t new. 
Medusa was a myth, do you know her story?
How Perseus stayed that monster for glory?
Did you know she wasn’t consenting? 
Was hiding in a temple from someone who meant only harm?
How she was punished for being raped in that sanctuary? 
Was made in to a monster with petrifying eyes as punishment for her own violation?
It might not be true,
Could just be a legend.
But how can you say this is new?
That it’s pretend?
When for centuries it’s our fault,
When we’re quiet, when we shout. 
When we stand tall,
When we rise, 
When we fall.

We’re done taking the blame,
Being drowned in shame,
And together we stand, 
Holding hands with Medusa,
And you should be petrified,
As together we rise,
And as one we will look you in the eyes and say:
“Me too”.

Todays #Inktober poem. I think the inspiration is obvious. If it resonates, please share.

Monday 16 October 2017

Weird sky, apocalypse is nigh - #inktober day 16

Weird Sky, Apocalypse is Nigh. 

The pressure is building 
So immense and intense,
And in my head the air is greasy and sparking,
And maybe this is octarine. 
There’s a fucking weird sky. 
Does that mean the end is nigh? 
Honestly at this point the apocalypse would be a relief. 
I’m sure you all know what I mean. 
We’re all fed up to the back teeth of wondering,
Is this the day we die? 
At one push of a button,
From an ego trip past all control,
From someone past the point of caring, 
From a thousand people shouting in unison:
“We’re not listening.”
Is this how we lose our lives?
Or is it the end of days in this heavy, weighted sky? 
Winds start to whip us, 
But we’re not at breaking point just yet, 
The pressure’s taking far too long, 
Honestly, it’s overwhelming. 
So we’ll make our doomsday jokes,
Share our pictures, call it pretty, 
Ask what the horsemen want for tea. 
The end of days,
That great equaliser,
Bringing us all together as we ponder a loss of future.
Feel the air getting closer, 
See our patience getting thinner, 
Because in this there can only be one winner. 
And when that storm crashes down,
As it breaks and soaks us,
And the air chokes us with Saharan dust,
And the jokes dry up,
Nature will have her say. 
But for now we can giggle about the end of days. 

Todays #Inktober poem, inspired by weird weather. If you enjoy it, feel free to share! 

Sunday 15 October 2017

Hungover Summer - #Inktober day 15

Hungover Summer 

Hanging around in Summers hangover,
A sun that forgot to stop shining. 
Waiting for Winter and chill winds to blow,
The last week of our right to bare arms,
And we’ll savour every second. 
The last few chances to gather in the gardens,
To share wisps of smoke and winks and whispers, 
Hints of what’s to come,
How we’ll gather in the warmth, 
When the bitter frosts begin to bite,
How we’ll hide and share winter secrets,
Things that summer sun is far too bright for,
Things we’ve held on to, 
Things to warm us in the cold. 
The time will come where we’ll shiver to share, 
But for now we’ll drink in Summers hangover,
And bask in the closing echoes of the sun.

My poem for day 15 of #Inktober. If you like it, feel free to share! 

Saturday 14 October 2017

The Dog Ate My Homework - #Inktober day 14

The Dog Ate My Homework

It's not there today, I'm sorry.
Can I get back to you tomorrow?
There was an idea I thought I'd borrow, 
But I left it.
Just forget it.
And I know that I promised inspiration and desire.
I said I'd write in lines of fire,
Speak of magic and of wonder, 
And on my funeral pyre there'd be words, 
Words,
Nothing but words,
But today they've left the building.
And I think I've got the feeling that your faith has been misplaced, 
That the lily might need gilding.
There's no sparks left in this place.
There's no magic left to give you.
It's just me, so please forgive me,
But I haven't been well lately,
And the words that I promised?
The dog ate them.

Day 14 of my #Inktober poetry project, and what happens when I don't feel like writing a poem. 

Friday 13 October 2017

Stories - #Inktober day 13

Stories

There's power in the stories we tell.
Once upon a time there was...
A princess
A handsome knight
A golden-haired girl
A silly boy,
And they had...
A terrible secret
A beloved pet
A box of matches
Missing parents
A raging hunger 
(Take your pick and make your own)
And then...
And then...
And then they suffer, 
Through trials and tribulations,
But it comes out right in the end.
There's comfort in the stories we tell.
Comeuppance for the villains,
A happily ever after in the end.
We carry stories with us,
Taking comfort in their rhythms.
We can wear them like armour, 
Fighting dragons and our demons, 
Or wrap them all around us,
Fall asleep in happy endings.
We can give them to another, 
Wrap them up in ribbons,
Telling them in whispers, 
Or shouting them from stages.
The clever, cunning tricksters, 
The battle-hardened soldiers,
The tropes of tales guide us.
Characters walk beside us.
There's power in the stories we tell, 
There's truth in these strange fictions.

Todays #Inktober poem. If you like it, please feel free to share!

Thursday 12 October 2017

Until Next Time - #Inktober day 12

Until Next Time

This so awkward,
I'm sweating and giggling, 
I'm nervous and shaking,
I don't know the words, 
And I'm waking up from the idea I could do this,
That I'd ever not rue this,
That performing's for me.
This ain't my cup of tea.
I sip from my beer, 
Try to joke with the crowd,
And I choke back a laugh as the music gets loud,
And the notes sound so flat, 
Nails dig in to my palms,
And like that, 
It's over, 
We've sung the last song, 
And it all felt so wrong,
But I'm done now.
I'll rest.
Not the best,
Not the worst,
Not again, 
Never.

Until next time.

Todays #Inktober poem, inspired by last nights open mic efforts. If you like it, please feel free to share!

Wednesday 11 October 2017

Vegetable Drawer Blues - #Inktober day 11

Vegetable Drawer Blues


The avocado of ecstasy met the aubergine of doom, 
And as blueberries of bother looked on,
They began to play a tune. 

The avocado sang in a major key, 
The aubergine drummed with gloom,
The crisp cucumber cackled with glee,
He was bananas for the blues.

A limp lettuce deigned to listen,
As the vegetables formed their band,
And gyrating grapes would glisten, 
As they played across the land. 

None of this was meant to be, 
And we’d never have heard this tune, 
But for the avocado of ecstasy, 
And the aubergine of doom. 

My #Inktober day 11 poem, based on another silly prompt from Richard Carr. If you like it, please let me know and feel free to share! 

Tuesday 10 October 2017

They'll Never Know - #Inktober day 10

They'll Never Know

Listen to that whisper on the wind.
Heads are gonna turn when you walk in.
Shaking hands,
Thudding heart,
You pay a price.
"You call this art?"
You'll sing for absolution for your sins.

And if you can put on a show,
Then baby, they'll never know,
What it took,
What you've done,
Who you are,
Or what you won.
Just put down your fear and baby we can go.

Watch them now as they get up and dance,
Sing them dreams of sweetness and romance,
Don't look them in the eyes,
They'll never see you're so surprised.
Just stand up and let them give you one more chance.

Sweetheart, it's time to hold your head up high,
You came and well, you gave it one good try.
Give us a smile,
Sing a song,
Pray to God,
They'll sing along.
Breathe now darling, and you can say goodnight.

Day 10 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. This one might be a song when it grows up. If you like it, let me know and feel free to share!

Monday 9 October 2017

The Melon and the Fish - #Inktober day 9

The Melon and the Fish

The green fish of the landfill cried out to the melon of the sky,
From dawn to dusk to break of day they only cried out “Why? 
Why must we suffer in this stink,
While you are up so high? 
Why do purple otters reign?
When will the strawberries bloom again? 
Please answer us!” They cried. 
The melon did not answer
From its home in orange skies.
And the green fish of the landfill,
Would never find out why. 


Day 9 of my #Inktober poetry challenge, starting with a prompt from Twitter. If you like it, let me know and feel free to share!

Sunday 8 October 2017

Teddy Bear (A poem for Sam) - #Inktober day 8

Teddy Bear (A poem for Sam)

My Teddies name is Teddy Bear.
He certainly isn't Bear, 
He's never been Teddy, 
My Teddies name is Teddy Bear.

He joins me on adventures, 
Up and down the stairs.
He's Mr Bear when introduced, 
But his name is really Teddy Bear.

I'd never leave out half his name, 
That just wouldn't be fair,
He joins in with all my games, 
And I call him Teddy Bear.

He'd never say, or make a fuss, 
But I swear he really cares, 
And he doesn't like it if you mess it up, 
'Cause his name is Teddy Bear.

Day 8 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. A silly poem for my little nephew. If you like it, let me know and feel free to share!

Saturday 7 October 2017

As good as a rest - #Inktober day 7

It's a time for changing,
For movement,
For something,
For taking that rough thing,
And finding the diamond.
Facets of refraction,
Reflection on why things are passing so fast,
In front of your eyes.
Why you wake up surprised,
That the world is still turning,
That waking's still worth it.
There's something that hurts,
And you're not sure how long you can take it.
Aching change happens at a rate you don't expect,
And struggle to accept,
But you're along for the ride,
And today, with eyes wide,
You'll step in to the breach,
And face it head on,
As live moves along,
You'll change,
Pass the test,
It's as good as a rest.

Day 7 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. If you like it, let me know and feel free to share!

Friday 6 October 2017

My freeview box is haunted - #Inktober day 6

My freeview box is haunted.

My freeview box is haunted.
There's a ghost in the toaster.
The microwave's possessed.
I think the kettle's coming closer.

The monster beneath the bed
Is scared of the curtains,
Says they're out to get him, 
He's absolutely certain.

When I got up this morning, 
The ghoul was in my shower.
He was dreadfully sorry, 
But he needed one more hour.

It's all my fault really, 
I brought home just one cursed coaster.
Now my microwave's possessed, 
And there's a ghost in the toaster.

Day 6 of my #Inktober poetry challenge, and it's a silly one today. If you like it, let me know and feel free to share!

Thursday 5 October 2017

I'll believe - #Inktober day 5

I'll believe

It's time to believe in something,
I can spare about an hour.
I can turn my thoughts to sour, 
On the subject of your ire.

I can form a few new principles, 
Judge someone on their choices, 
Listen to certain voices,
If they agree the world's my oyster.

I'll sign my name to something, 
It will only take a minute.
That's all we need to win it,
Then my believing's done, I'm finished.
Right?

Day 5 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. If you like it, let me know and feel free to share!

Wednesday 4 October 2017

Change - #Inktober day 4

Change

Are we there yet?
Is it time?
Is the world really ending in rhyme?
We're watching it burn,
We're watching them drown,
We're watching them rise,
We're keeping our mouths shut,
Eyes wide in surprise.
It's nothing, 
Not to worry, 
It'll come out right in the end,
As we wend our weary way
To the end of our days,
In a state of denial about what has changed.
We're great again, 
Always have been.
We got something back we didn't know we'd lost, 
Won the fight but in debt at the cost.
And when there's nothing left but the self-satisfied grins,
Of those in the know,
Of those who need to win,
With their self-confidence rising like sea-levels, 
Will we prise our pride out of their cold dead hands?
Or follow leaders into the chaos of unknown lands?
If there's anything left at the end of all things, 
When the fight is done, 
When we've drowned in the sun,
It will be the knowledge that there's power in belief,
That we thought we were right,
That we all fought the night,
That we couldn't have done a damn thing to change it if we tried.
Could we?
Should we?
Will we?
See me afterwards.
There will be a test,
On what we thought was best.
We won't have passed, 
We'll be the last.
We're there now,
It's almost time,
To take ourselves to bed, 
And kiss the earth good night.

Day 3 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. If you like it, let me know and feel free to share!



Tuesday 3 October 2017

Adventure - #Inktober day 3

Adventure

I would like to go on an adventure.
Sensible boots and a bag of handkerchiefs and snacks.
Feet carrying me far.
I would like to walk away for a little while.
Find a rag tag bunch of heroes to share a meal with round a fire.
Tell stories of desire,
For fame,
For fortune, 
For revenge against a liar.

We will crunch through dying leaves, 
We will find treasure that is not what it seems, 
Leave behind its curse and walk on, and on,
Through field and fen, 
Through dale and glen,
Lose a day of our lives in a fairy ring, 
Enchanted by their glittered wings, 
Then see their teeth so cold and sharp,
And run away with jolted hearts, 
Escape to find only minutes passed, 
And a rest a while before walking on.

I would like small, strange magics.
Music from nowhere that beguiles.
A snake who speaks only in rhymes and smiles,
With a sinister, sybilant hiss.
A foreboding forest we agree to go around, 
(We're heroes, after all, not idiots.)
We will lose one of our number to the elves, of course, 
But he will be happy there.

There will be a tavern, 
And a witch pretending to be beautiful, 
But we listened to the wise old owl,
Are not fooled by her trickery, 
And trap her between two mirrors.
The villagers will call us heroes, 
Give us gifts we cannot carry.
One among us wants to tarry, 
And we leave him, happy there.

I would like to sleep under unfamiliar stars, 
See changing landscapes,
Pick a destination, 
Get directions from a dormouse.

Eventually, inevitably, 
There will be a dragon.
We will fight him and we'll win.
It's what unlikely bunches of rag-tag heroes do.

The princess will not need saving, 
But would like to join us,
Has a bag packed and her own sensible shoes, 
And her feet will carry her away with us, 
Through dale and glen, 
Through field and fen, 
And on to adventure.

Home will be our campfire,
And we'll be home in time for tea.

Stories will be told of our heroic deeds.
They will sing them in the taverns,
They will know us in the streets,
Weary travellers will wonder in whispers,
Of the things we say we've seen.

I would like to go on an adventure.
Please.

Day 3 of my #Inktober poetry challenge. If you like it, let me know and feel free to share!

A Month In Verse - Inktober 2018 Day 31 part 2!

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