Poetry and short story writing

[Chief Broom]

Here goes, some recent ones.

Shelter

Rain beats on window pane,
Sun hides behind grey cloud.
Wind whistles in the chimney,
Sheep seek shelter behind a wall.

No walk for me today -
Sofa and televison call.

Remembered

I don’t think
Of the diseased corpse,
Laid in wet clay -
The physical life
Now ceased to be.

I think of the beauty,
The smile and the laughter.
The fleeting glimpses
Of precious shared moments.

The body dies,
The soul survives.
You live in my memory -
Eternally.

Cancer

Oh curséd Devil
That walks in our midst.
Ready to pounce,
Sinking your dagger
With scant regard -
The young or the old,
The rich or the poor.
Leaving devastation,
Taking -
But never giving,
Misery and suffering
Left littered in your wake.

Recuperation

Killing Time
Is killing me.
Sitting here -
A broken bone -
A leg in plaster.

A loss of liberty
Once taken for granted.
The mental turmoil
Trumps physical discomfort.

Unmoved

Old ash tree I salute you,
You stand tall and majestic
For many years, how many
I can only guess.

You’ve seen it all -
World wars,
War of Independence,
Civil war
And rumours of wars.

Lovers through the ages
Have carved names on you
While generations of sheep
Sought shelter ‘neath your boughs.

All past
And still you stand -
Unmoved,
In splendid isolation.
The present only touching you,
You remain unmoved -
True to yourself

Sunset at Trá na Rosann.

No artist’s brush-stroke
No optical sensor,
No celluloid slide
Can capture the beauty
Unveiling before me.

The tide-pounded stones,
Golden sand and shingle
All wet from the foam
Of the evening tide.

I watch awe-inspired,
While the world goes blood-red
As the winter sun
Goes to bed behind Horn Head.

Hi tired, you might like this site... https://allpoetry.com/ You can write and store your poems, enter competitions or start one, give and get feedback etc, its free but can upgrade membership

 

[Moon bunny]

A tanku
Oh my bicycle
It is just so cool and blue.
It has two light wheels
A comfortable saddle
When it glides I am happy

 

[Moon bunny]

Haiku are a good deal simpler
Cheery timberland
A tiny refugee cat runs
under the log

 

[Chief Broom]

Thanks Moon bunny i have had a go at Haiku's but dont see why theyre should be any restrictions in form of a poem. Free style allows complete unhindered expression IMHO I write an occasional short one without obeying any rules

​

Osprey

Above the mirrored loch
an Osprey
is working hard.
The shift is short
he punches in
clocks off.

 

[Chief Broom]

​

Heavenly Blue

Dear child, how welcome you are this day
an array of flowers greet you.
Enchanted by the beautiful sky blue petals
you have become as a bee to the Morning Glory
Now leading your mother by the hand
here you stand at the garden gate

Dear child, Rainbow child! So many colours
reflected in your delighted eyes.
How entrancing the swaying purple Fox gloves
amongst the Poppies and Daisies.
How pleasing the velvet red Roses
beside Geraniums of gentian blue

Dear child have you become a butterfly!
flitting from Rose to Bergamot
Twirling and dancing between Marigolds and Lupins,
then opening your arms wide, as if to embrace them.
The singing Blackbird cannot compete
with such gaiety and laughter!

Dear child, how clear your vision
and pure your joy!
You have charmed both mother and gardener
this fine summers day
With wonderment we gaze upon you
as you gaze upon the flowers

Dear child, I wish for you a happy life
and that one day you will become a gardener too,
For then if a child's smiling face
should appear at your garden gate,
You can remember this auspicious day
when the smiling child.....Was you.

 

[tyred]

One from this evening.

Sunsets

Driving on the N59, the sun setting.
An Amber ball behind Nephin -
I pull over and stop the engine.

In my lifetime the sun has set
Over fifteen thousand times to date.
Sadly, I haven't always seen it -
Too overcast, inside, busy or asleep.
I suspect that I have seen it
Several thousand times at least.

Yet each time brings fresh delights -
Reflections on water, shadows on hills.
Russet red, yellow or orange glow,
Rainbows in the soft summer rain -
Ever changing, ever different, ever beautiful.

I sit and watch the sun set
As the word stops. Peace, tranquility,
Inspiration, all provided for my enjoyment.

 

[Chief Broom]

One from this evening.

Sunsets

Driving on the N59, the sun setting.
An Amber ball behind Nephin -
I pull over and stop the engine.

In my lifetime the sun has set
Over fifteen thousand times to date.
Sadly, I haven't always seen it -
Too overcast, inside, busy or asleep.
I suspect that I have seen it
Several thousand times at least.

Yet each time brings fresh delights -
Reflections on water, shadows on hills.
Russet red, yellow or orange glow,
Rainbows in the soft summer rain -
Ever changing, ever different, ever beautiful.

I sit and watch the sun set
As the word stops. Peace, tranquility,
Inspiration, all provided for my enjoyment.

I liked where this one was coming from a very personal look/reflection/musing at the world

 

[tyred]

I liked where this one was coming from a very personal look/reflection/musing at the world

Thank you. I live pretty reclusive life and most of my inspiration comes from nature in one way or another.

 

[SpokeyDokey]

I have written a fair bit of poetry for my wife over the years but surprisingly, for someone who tends to live his life as an 'open book' and who doesn't exactly lack confidence, I am rather shy to post any on here. I may work up to it though. 🙂

Maybe other members who have had a poetical dabble feel the same?

 

[Chief Broom]

I have written a fair bit of poetry for my wife over the years but surprisingly, for someone who tends to live his life as an 'open book' and who doesn't exactly lack confidence, I am rather shy to post any on here. I may work up to it though. 🙂

Maybe other members who have had a poetical dabble feel the same?

I think writing poetry is an excellent way to hone ones own internal B/S detector! I know when one of mine is OK or even 'good' and im alright in letting it loose on the world. One good 'filter' is to read and re-read ones own work and look for flaws and if i still like one of mine after a couple of weeks then its 'passed'.
What i find difficult is commenting on anothers work....The greatest poetry ever written isnt going to make me do somersaults so if i say someones cherished poem is 'OK' it sounds like im damning with faint praise! Cant win
I think writing poetry is a rewarding kind of meditation especially if the writer is unwavering with the 'truth scalpel' ie remove any false mushy sentiment and anything that has a whiff of an 'untruth

 

[tyred]

I have several poems that I think are genuinely pretty good but would be reluctant to share because they are very personal, including one I wrote this weekend.

I think writing poetry is a very personal thing and in many ways you do bare your soul. It is what makes the poems Thomas Hardy wrote about his late wife so good imo.

W. B. Yeats wrote some of his best poetry about his unrequited love for Maud Gonne whom he proposed to on five occasions and no doubt in his lifetime people probably secretly thought he was nuts.

 

[AndyRM]

I"ve written quite a lot of short story/flash fiction stuff. It's mostly pretty horrible, but I'll share some!

I guess this is a hybrid of both. It's called 'Shoes':

Those Shoes, In This?

He can hear the words echoing in his ears,

“You’re an idiot going out for a smoke in those shoes.”

And he knows.

It’s not just the shoes, it’s about so much more.

But still, it feels like a strange form of penance, doing what he is.

Trudging.

Lonely.

Apart.

Soaking Converse.

Knackered.

Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

 

[SpokeyDokey]

I might try tomorrow! We shall see!

 

[Chief Broom]

Heading Home

Nothing could surpass
such beauty
I confidently mused.

An evening sky on fire!
Glorious reds, purple and gold
framed within a perfect cobalt blue.

Nothing could possibly improve
or be finer than this artist's delight.
Of this I was certain.

Then suddenly appearing overhead
an elegant V formation
of the purest white Whooper swans.

Flying directly into the setting sun
like they were on a mission.
And had an appointment with God

 

[SpokeyDokey]

I've plucked up courage and will give it a go - I've stacks of these that I have writen over the years.

For my wife on our 28th anniversary (2 years ago):


Sparkles


When I think of you - my love

When I think of us - our love

Bright sparkle-memories flare in my mind

Oh, how I love to watch them glitter there

Dancing, weaving... shouting; pick me, pick me!

Which one to pluck?

To savour

To delight in

To relive and take me back

To when they were forged

Deep in our souls

Where fierce-burning love seared those sparkles deep within


I decide; and reaching out I take the one

That takes me back to ‘92

To when our marriage was so new

I smile, feeling sparkle-tastic!

Remembering feeling oh so proud!

That my soulmate -lover was now my wife

Standing there

In ivory and flower bunched

My dream-girl; the one!

How beautiful you looked

(And still you do)

And how you shone that day

Lighting up those precious moments

When sacred promises were heart-made

To love each other and well… just be there!

As our love story further unscrolled

To who knew where…


And now… 28 years later

I remember it all so well

What a lovely sparkle, on which to dwell!