Found Poem - Searching  

Saturday, December 27, 2008


The memory has been

Scraping the barrell for seratonin.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

what i wanted  

Friday, December 26, 2008

i wanted to say

i wanted to say i wanted to say i wanted to say

                             that i love you

but i don't really know what it means
and that maybe i am incredibly clever
for getting this far and knowing that i don't know

or maybe my brain will never work like yours...

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

winter chill  

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Halfy Halfy: Seasonal Allegory

This metal world has lost its poles;
another snow flake melts in your breath.
You see the winter inside you
as flames concertina you into the water.
Acrylic licks alter your future;
acrid desperation echoes on the tongue
like the bitter taste of saccharine.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Half +3 Necrophilia?  

Wednesday, December 24, 2008


Fell in love with a girl;
shiny black eyes
and killer heels.
She could be my life partner
if I rescue her from
cellophane hell.
She's always drawn and tired.
She opens up the fridge
and says
I really fancy a cold one.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Tuesday, December 23, 2008


Fluid strokes of black italic;
she took her time over every letter.
Often quoting someone else's words.
"Close your eyes and think of me
and soon I will be there..." 

Summer '94

Where are they now?

It's always interesting wondering at the story behind an inscription in a book. Who wrote it to whom? And do they still see one another...

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Writing in the dark  

Monday, December 22, 2008

w  r  it     i  n   g

                  i  n     thhe    
                                          d   ark  i  s

li  k  e                    bl  i  n d
                                                 on  tou  r
d  raw i n  g  .  T
                            he   w o rdswrap  t he  m se  lv
    i  n      their     o   ww  n      wa
y   &
  us  e  t  o  o     mu
                                  c  h       p a  p     e  r.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Half Sonnet: Hands  

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Many hands make light work

your hands can't work anymore.
Every day I see mine change;
toughened, calloused, cracked with age.
And every day I see yours again;
living on through mine.

Don't let their hands hurt you child.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

On the Rocks  

Saturday, December 20, 2008

On the Rocks

Missing teeth and open wounds;
on the rocks
is where you'll be.

Breathing deep and staggered moves.
One more for the road.

Lady Catherine
takes it on board.

This ship has passed into the night.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

A Wire Broken  

Friday, December 19, 2008

Eyes branded into my soul;

a wire broken.
Fuses from your hands;
this one's gonna bruise.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Thursday, December 18, 2008

Half sonnet: Polyphant

Many elephants
University of Elephants
Various Freudian phantasies
Fantasy University
Polyps from Hants.

Frog pool.

So it goes in Polyphant

Interesting place names are pretty rife in Cornwall. Polyphant, near Hicksmill, is a pretty good one. My boyfriend has been considering it as a band name and the possibilities foe related word-play are limitless... with members considering names like polygon, polyfilla etc! Just after originally posting this one I met a man from Polyphant! He said it is the Cornish for Frogpool Pol = Pool and Lyphant= Frog.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Pearl Harbour  

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

A tide washed out

A tide washed out and revealed
beneath it bodies.
Rolled up like henchmen
guarding an underwater universe.
Their colours said welcome
against the iron gravel
that mimics sand.
Their cries leave a scar
in the ocean floor.
And little jewels of ash
like starry nights;
burned into the water
and its collective memory.

I wrote this one after a dream I had involving a tide washing out and leaving behind it bodies. In the dream these bodies were left after many suicides had taken place from a horseshoe shaped cliff resembling a bay on the South coast of Cornwall between Mevagissey and Pentewan. I think I prefer the poem without any explanation as it leaves it open for interpretation. I think it implies a tragedy related to water, perhaps Pearl Harbour or more recently the tsunami in Asia.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

language and power  

Monday, December 8, 2008

language is power
ranguage is powel
ernguage is powla
werguage is polan
oweruage is plang
powerage is langu
powerge is langua
powere is languag

power is language

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Sunday, December 7, 2008

essay avoidance

flossed teeth - check
hoovered all carpets - check
message inbox (empty)
pens, pencils ordered - check
glass water - check
message inbox (empty)
all books present - check
biscuits for munching into the night - check
message inbox (empty)
cup of tea - check
facebook  - check
message inbox (pub?)

wallet - check
keys - check

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Saturday, December 6, 2008

The after effects of Ecstasy

Acarophobia- Fear of itching. Agateophobia- Fear of insanity. Agliophobia- Fear of pain. Agraphobia- Fear of sexual abuse. Albuminurophobia- Fear of kidney disease. Amnesiphobia- Fear of amnesia. Amychophobia- Fear of scratches/ being scratched. Androphobia- Fear of men. Anthropophobia- Fear of people/society. Arsonphobia- Fear of fire. Atychiphobia- Fear of failure. Automysophobia- Fear of being dirty. Autophobia- Fear of being alone or oneself. Bacteriophobia- Fear of bacteria. Bathophobia- Fear of depth. Cancerophobia/Carcinophobia- Fear of cancer. Catapedaphobia- Fear of jumping from high/low places. Chronophobia- Fear of time. Counterphobia- The preference by a phobic for fearful situations. Decidophobia- Fear of making decisions. Dementophobia- Fear of insanity. Dermatophobia- Fear of skin lesions. Daemonophobia- Fear of demons. Dysmorphophobia- Fear of deformity. Enochlophobia- Fear of crowds. Hedonophobia- Fear of feeling pleasure. Kyphophobia- Fear of stooping. Lyssophobia- Fear of rabies or of becoming mad. Meningitophobia- Fear of brain disease. Pediculophobia- Fear of lice. Scabiophobia- Fear of scabies. Social Phobia- Fear of being evaluated negatively in social situations Tapinophobia- Fear of being contagious Tremophobia- Fear of trembling. Virginitiphobia- Fear of rape.
Xanthophobia- Fear of the color yellow Xyrophobia-Fear of razor Zelophobia- Fear of jealousy

I have been interested in phobias for some time now. These are all phobias I feel are rooted in my excessive drug taking past. To see more phobias, check out The Phobias List

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Friday, December 5, 2008

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Christmas cheer  

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Half + 2

Hark the sepulchral organ grinds
out of tune and into the night.
I have this disease that mimics
love. I can recognise it in you.

I tried to record every event
that happened in minor detail
in case I needed them later.
I tried to fix every broken number

but hearts are more your style.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

life called  

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Ain’t it just the way

Life called today
and apologised for getting
in the way sometimes.
Her husband is flirtatious
and easy.
Sometimes he makes
friends too quickly and keeps them
away from Life.
He says he does it to protect them.
Life says sorry

she gets in the way sometimes.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Proposals and all sorts...  

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Ring Ring

Once there was a Will
but he couldn’t find a way.
And then he asked me to marry him.
And I said ‘I dunno’
and felt confused for a few days.
So I called someone for help
but then I answered the telephone.
So I have discussed it
with myself
and I think I might do it,
but I won’t publish it on myspace
and there won’t be an announcement
at the table
and we won’t be exchanging rings.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Internet Romance  

Monday, December 1, 2008

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Sunday, November 30, 2008

Persimmons - Sonnet-4

Sweet  flesh
folds over my face
in summer time.
ledges of sand under
the trees. 
Autumn turns them
brown and over ripe
but deeply rich;
they attract flies.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

I'll Stop the World  

Saturday, November 29, 2008

I'll Stop the World

Since I met you
the world has seen hurricane,
earthquake and tsunami.
Creatures have become extinct 
and others have evolved. 
Flying ants have exodussed
... four times and 378 people died
 from choking on a pen lid.
Opal fruits made a comeback
and changed to starburst again.
The average heart will have beat
136510000 times and mine feels faster.
I wish that
I could stop the world and melt with you.

This is a bit of a mixed bag, based on a poem I wrote for my partner a couple of years ago, but modified somewhat. I've named it after a song by Modern English which was covered by The Cure. But I had to do some research into random facts. Click here for Random facts and here for the bit about the heart from National Geographic.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Friday, November 28, 2008


The last time I was really upset
my lawn was covered
in tandoori prawns
and I flew to Spain
and cried in my Sangria.
I left some of my feelings there
wrapped in plastic 
and shoved 
in an overflowing bin
with a shrink wrapped bag
of empty clam shells
and enough wine corks
to sail me home.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

more triangles  

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Half Sonnet: Dignity

I thought I’d lost my dignity
but then I spied it on the floor;
somewhere in between the overflowing
jam jar ashtrays and the
empty crisp packets.
So I folded it into a triangle
to keep in my pocket at all times.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

understanding cancer  

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Learning a new language

500 per mm3
(0.5 x 109 /1)
neutrophil count



AddThis Social Bookmark Button

They're starting to take over!  

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Half +2: Sonnetalisation

I’ve been dreaming sonnetically again
and waking with sonneticisms.
Sonnetifying language is becoming
a daily contribution to sonnetification.
I have agonised over sonnetalisation
and am expecting to overcome this sonnetophilia
sometime and resume life as sonnetal.
I wouldn’t describe my previous state as sonnetophobic
but perhaps I was a sonnetaramus before.

I have been thinking about sonnets continuously for about a month now and made notes to myself about what ideas I could 'sonnetify'. It occurred to me that these suffixes being attached to words are becoming more common. I was reading a blog on talented singer/songwriter Kat Flint's Myspace page where she referred to spreading things 'internetically', which I have adopted as one of my favourite made up words. This process contributes to language evolution, which this particular sonneteer* finds exciting. 

* N.B. Sonneteer is a genuine word, but I checked and none of the words used in the actual sonnet are in the dictionary!

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

irony and ambiguity  

Monday, November 24, 2008

The theme for this week in my poetry seminar was irony and ambiguity. Actually the tutor was away this week, but we did a pretty good job of holding the seminar without him there. Anyway, it really made me laugh when my friend said words to the effect of this sonnet:

One Twelfth

I’m so excited.
He wants to spend Christmas with me
and my whole family.

We read the same books
and eat the same foods
and he’s taking me to Italy in March;

Amsterdam in May.
He’s so good for me
and I feel better now I have him.

Tonight’s our one month anniversary.

Perhaps I am an old cynic?!

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Prose sonnet  

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Prose Sonnet: Vices?

walking the cobblestones of my favourite streets I am marred by the ghosts of my former selves the eight year old draws herself inward shuddering hiding her shy face as she searches for her lost light somewhere in the shade confused and frightened she would love to love if she knew she'd be loved and the fourteen year old self pulls deeply on the perpetrator of her asthma glancing to her scuffed shoes and everywhere anywhere but in my gaze she breathes pain and snorts lines of unanswered questions for breakfast there she is again at twenty-one and she has felt the rupture of the unbreakable bond known loss so scarring she will never see the same at twenty-five she is somehow surer talks of peyote dreams and distant seas trinkets sparkling in her matted dreadlocks I see her eyes reflect in mine stoop down to pick up the lantern and pass it over with sparks of promise in my glance willing her to carry on all I wanted was a word and I got alphabet soup at twenty-eight the end seems closer she knows now life and fragility are intertwined and the promise of tomorrow soon becomes yesterday I blow the smoke from the corner of my mouth and it stretches and curls its way around causing circles eddies in the listless smoldering orange glow of peace

I decided to keep all punctation out of this piece to increase the fluidity of meaning and the ambiguity. It is a highly personal piece, which I often avoid, but I have often thought about the idea of my younger selves meeting my older selves on the street.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Saturday, November 22, 2008

Half sonnet: Form

the forms
four ‘m’s
on form

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

on the street  

Friday, November 21, 2008

On the Street

I can see him from the corner of my eye;
my next victim. He’s a smoker
and he pulls hard on a thin cigarette;
exhales and the purple plume unfurls
extending it’s tendrils across the street.
The night here is thankless.
His scrawny body leans against
a tree; the gnarled branches
hanging lifelessly down.
I’m stealthy in my approach;
showing my weapon to my victim;
though I sense his fear – “Salvation army”,
I say, holding my badge – “Come with me”.
I go to bed knowing I saved another life.

This sonnet was inspired by a clever story I found on I liked the duplicity of the word 'victim'. To read the original story click here.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

and more thinking about Mat...  

Thursday, November 20, 2008


Said you'd marry me at thirty;
we were only twenty-one and it seemed
that time would never come.
Then we lost Matt
to (sui)cider.
Watched as seagulls
dive-bombed his ashes;
apple shaped and milky in the tired sea.
Now you come to the pub
in your dressing-gown;
all drawling sentences and hands full of
nicotine scars
and I hate that you keep the worst part
of his memory alive.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

In rememberance  

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Half sonnet + 2: Ashes

Birds fled past the tree tops and flooded the skies;
wingtips scraping the bloody clouds.
Under foot, the stones clattered
and crunched on the rocks.
We said our goodbyes and watched
your bones, now ashes,
colour the sea.
The clink of empty cider bottles
echoed our regret.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Love sonnet  

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

A Love Sonnet

I have photos of you
in every room
and your eyes
follow me about the house.
I think you would love me too
if only you would
to me.
I love you
with all of my


I recently watched an interesting programme about mental illness and liked the idea of saying 'I love you with all my OCD' - So the poem really evolved from that line.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Monday, November 17, 2008


I'm still under the duvet watching ships and seagulls.
The only thing is you're missing and the bed's
grown silent. Isolation was a
choice. Solace in a voice to
cover my solecisms.
can be
but is
with a cascade of ice
and soporific substances.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Sunday, November 16, 2008

We almost had a baby

Every September when
the sea gets warm
I see your face
and can smell the fire
we sat beside
drinking mushroom tea.
When we were twenty-one
and nothing mattered.
We said then that we knew
that scene would be etched
into our minds forever
We almost had a baby
And it's the one part
of you I don't hate.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

4 letter word...  

Saturday, November 15, 2008

L = Loss

Your face screwed up when I told you I had
our baby.
You said you would run
And I thought: so much for LOVE.

It was all my secret and then
there was nothing.
Blood and suction
was all that remained of
what I thought was LOVE.

You smoked in the car park with
my neurotic mother.
And didn't know that was the closest
you'd ever feel to LOVE.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

sentences without 't'  

Friday, November 14, 2008

No ‘T’ in China

Walking in Spain’s hills
I spoke a word of silence.
Swimming French canals
I heard a crash of rainclouds.
Perusing an Afghan square
I found a discord in number.
Under Iran’s skies
I exposed an unheard lie.
A Russian sea froze my lips
and any speech from sliding.
In China I was hiding a
broken wing below a zephyr.
Reaching Beijing I eluded fire;
my consciousness like an island.

I found a blog online called Scribble Soup for Writer's Block and was interested in writing sentences with no letter 't' as suggested in the blog. I had decided on the title of this poem before I really wrote it so I then needed to also think of countries with no 't' in them - or creative ways to omit the 't' - such as Afghan as opposed to Afghanistan.

Scribble Soup has some other great ideas for getting writing. Check it out by clicking here.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Thursday, November 13, 2008

This is based on googlisms, which is a fantastic website for generation of ideas, wherein you can type in your word and find a selection of google definitions for that word! Some people even put their own names in there! I am a shipwreck apparently!! To check out Googlisms Click here


sonnet is not easy to follow
sonnet is a mystery
sonnet is over
sonnet is encrypted
sonnet is at poetryrepair shop
sonnet is love

sonnet is to poke
sonnet is composed of all associated fibre optic and copper cables
sonnet is a specially designed package
sonnet is composed of 14 lines of poetry each line has five iambic feet
sonnet is unique among poetic forms in western literature
sonnet is derived from the Italian for "little song"
sonnet is a moment's monument
sonnet is due no later than Friday

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Bee's Birthday  

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Bee’s Birthday

Autumn                     hits
                                             the day
                             a few

For my friend's birthday I made a special pass the parcel, and each layer contained a few random words from fridge magnet poetry. We all had to come up with somthing from the words given and so today's sonnet is based on this game.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Confused visemes

Sixpence                   Sucks pens
Slim women             Sleep with me
Colourful                   I love you

When I was at school we used to play a silly game where we'd mouth 'colourful' to people in the playground, mimicking the visemes used when saying 'I love you'. It got me to thinking of other embarrassing word confusions that could happen. I'm hoping to add to this list...

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Meeting Lee  

Monday, November 10, 2008

Half sonnet -2: Voices of War

Met a man who killed a man.
He smoked Lambert and Butler
one after another after another.
Words came out like gunfire
cracking in distant hills.

I met a really interesting character in the pub. He was a children's entertainer/musician/songwriter and many things besides; including an ex-soldier. He actually had seven confirmed killings and everything in the way he moved indicated an edginess, a nervousness that emulated gunfire. He has come to Falmouth to bring an exhibition called Voices of War, which concentrates on the art and creativity produced by other ex-servicemen. The exhibition is in town 10th - 17th November, which is really quite apt as today is armistice day. Lee Kamara has posted many of his recordings on You Tube, click this link to hear 'The Politician', which is a comment on the injustice of it being a man in a suit pushing a pen who decides who gets sent to War. You can also  click here to see the Voices of War website. 

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Sunday, November 9, 2008

Predictive text (when drunk)

Jess n are
riot led
innit got be
bak soo
what happens
in drunkan
very walk.
Lovean cabb



This one may seem like a bit of a cop-out, and it was with hangover that it was chosen to represent today's sonnet, but hear me out first. I find the whole text messaging phenomenon interesting for the way in which it affects language evolution. Predictive text famously confuses the word pint for both shot and riot, which can have amusing effects when contained in the sentence 'Fancy coming out for a...' - all three words have connotations attached to drinking. Predictive text when drunk adds another level of total lunacy to messages and just mis-pressing one digit can completely invent new words. I am fascinated by this.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

ejective sibilance 2  

Saturday, November 8, 2008

ejective sibilance 2

This occurrence of cadence
marks the confluence
of ejective sibilance
an inconsistency of decadence
in language rife with complexities.
Our acceptance of this
mixture of sounds is what
makes English a pleasure to analyse.
The coalescence of opposing
ejectives and sibilance could be described as
succulence of language.
There seems to be a standard
rule in order.
To break it is acidic.

I wanted to experiment with filling in the blanks I had left in the previous poem. Perhaps it reads more like an essay extract, but it's interesting that the whole piece begins to contain other 'k' or 's' sounds.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

phoneme work  

Friday, November 7, 2008

ejective sibilance

occurrence                                     cadence


               inconsistency                      decadence





 I liked the idea of using the letter 'c' in both its phonetic utterances. The ejective 'k' sound and the sibliant 's' sound. In most examples I could think of, the ejective came before the sibilant, apart from acidic, acerbic and acetic  - words common to my past as a Science Technician in a school and interestingly all very similar.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

South Coast Road  

Thursday, November 6, 2008

bus to beachy head

Killer day for a journey,
blade of sun on water,
slicing cold desire.
Knuckles white;
holding sweaty palms.
Glances to the
caustic sea.
The bus stops;

and it’s over.

For any that don't know - Beachy Head in East Sussex is a famous suicide spot. I was visiting family that way recently and was told of the story of a boy who caught the bus to the pub we were in (actually on South Coast Road in Peacehaven) and just walked from the bus off the cliff. I was interested in thinking the way he might have. I made the decision to title it Beachy Head because it is quite an infamous spot; particularly after Jimmy riding his bike from it in The Who's 1979 film Quadrophenia. I have used some cliché to normalise the theme of suicide somewhat. Part of the idea behind writing daily sonnets is to often use very every day language to make a point. 

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

5th November  

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

5th November

Sinister                                     memories

                                         observe the skies



AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Tuesday, November 4, 2008


I like people

                 falling                             short
of                      expectation.




As part of this project, I am interested in making some poems take up the same space as a traditional sonnet, when only containing few words. The apparent randomness of this sonnet compliments the title.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Alphabet Soup  

Monday, November 3, 2008

I became interested in the use of phonemes and some of the sounds we make when speaking. I had to research this to ascertain some terminology, but hope for this to be the start of a collection. At least, I have this as a back up idea when I am experiencing Writer's Block. In 'Daily Sonnets' Brown uses dictionary poems in much the same way, and these pre-conceived ideas for poems can be really helpful when it is of importance to just write...

Alphabet Soup

Devouring the vowels first;
the ‘O’ rolling around like honey.
‘E’ sweet and melting like candy floss.
But the ‘K’ has fricative corners;
sticking and poking
from the mouth.
Next the ‘S’ – soft, sweet, seductive
sliding inside one’s esophagus
in sibilance.
Glorious ‘G’ goads
guttural glottal inflections.
The spoon swoops
and swishes in search
of the ‘X’.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Number 10  

Sunday, November 2, 2008

I had an idea for an ambiguous sonnet wherein there is some confusion about whether it is the poem killing the author or the author killing the poem, but either way it was through over thinking the form process. This may require some editing before it is submitted, but it was good fun to write.

Number 10

Gargling with onomatopoeia,
y pensando en heteroglossia,
the killer’s assonance wakes at dusk.
Feeling murderous for hyperbole,
selective only in diction.
Acquiring admiration of alliteration, it

chooses enjambment as it’s weapon.
Stealthily, its broken rhymes are made
like those of a caped crusade
-er and ugh it mutters.
Too much thought about
Kills the poem

or the author?

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Saturday, November 1, 2008

Quarter Sonnet: Dependence

The drain is filled
with blackened spoons;
another morning goes cold.
It looks like snow.

The use of cold words and imagery in this short poem is to indicate the bleakness of addiction. What that addiction is has been left slightly ambiguous for the reader to decide.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Friday, October 31, 2008

I like the idea of playing around with form as much as playing with meaning. This is taken from a song I am writing for a music project, and to fit as a sonnet, the chorus has been removed. There has been some discussion surrounding whether or not the poem reinforces the connotation of prostitutes being 'vermin' and so this one may have to be edited more carefully before submission. 

Sonnet + 1 verse: Pigeons

Open mouths – twenty pounds
Walk the road where sex is sold
And see the pigeons lining up
along the street.

It takes the night to brave the flight
Bloody nose and open toes
All the dirty birds are out here
on the street.

Silence drips from their lips
Splashed white clothes is what they chose
Oh you can see that pigeons hang out
on this street.

Tear stained face, fall from grace
No-one knows and it shows
as cars mount the pavement
on the street

Pidgin patter, what’s the matter?
There’s one less pigeon tonight upon the street.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Little Isosceles  

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Little Isosceles

When I’m gone
they'll call you
my long
suffering partner
and wonder how

you ever could stand it.
But they won't know
about the symphony
of our mutual snores.
Or the nights

when you’re asleep
and I trace
little isosceles
on your skin.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Quarter sonnet: Frieda at noon

The watched kettle shrieks noisily.
Frieda has a lump in hers.
Silently, we debate:
What next?

This week we were set the task of responding poetically to the Ted hughes poem 'Full Moon and Little Frieda'. Only the title really responds to it, but it got me writing, which I can't complain about! The poem is shaped to resemble a sugar bowl to increase the ambiguity.

You might be interested to see the original Hughes poem, so I have put this below:

Full Moon and Little Frieda
 A cool small evening shrunk to a dog bark and the clank of a bucket -
And you listening.
A spider's web, tense for the dew's touch.
A pail lifted, still and brimming - mirror
To tempt a first star to a tremor.

Cows are going home in the lane there, looping the hedges with their warm
wreaths of breath -
A dark river of blood, many boulders,
Balancing unspilled milk.
'Moon!' you cry suddenly, 'Moon! Moon!'

The moon has stepped back like an artist gazing amazed at a work
That points at him amazed. 

Ted Hughes

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Puppet Show  

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Puppet Show

Don't be late today.
See the stormy weather;
don't let it block your way.
You have things to do today.

Broken bird in the road
made us stop and stare today.
Broken bones and broken wings
starting their slow decay.

Cause their wings,
they are tied to our strings.
They are tied to our strings today.
Their wings are tied to our strings
and they'll never
get away.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Oranges are not the only fruit  

Oranges are not the only fruit

I'll cover myself
in jaffa cakes
'cause I know a girl who
likes them.

Every time
she looks at me
a part of me
quicker than
the thin disc

are not the only fruit.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

You Happened  

Monday, October 27, 2008

You Happened

Dressed in knowledge and suffering;
your face was one I'd known before.
Seen on the corners of winter streets;
impressed in the chalk face by the shore.

I'd been searching for a tourniquet;
someone to help stem my blood's flow.
You came along with that broken smile
eyes that told me nothing about all you know.

You said you'd always loved the way
two people's bodies could fit.
I sat there in silence – preoccupied
with mine and its deficit.

I ask that face that’s everywhere I see;
What would happen if you’d never happened to me?

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

The silent sonnet  

Sunday, October 26, 2008

The silent sonnet

                                                aching chasm

When I introduced this poem to my seminar group, there was much discussion about whether it is meant to be read aloud or not. The word slient being used implies that it should. The idea of the blank space is for the reader to bring their own interpretation to the poem. Silence can say so much when it says nothing at all. I have used the 'ch' 'k' sound for aching and chasm to echo each other to signify how silence can be resounding.

AddThis Social Bookmark Button


Design by Blogger Buster | Distributed by Blogging Tips