Not much left to say Tomorrow we start again We all have reasons (c)Poetry from The ManShed 26/08/19
Author: @purpleandgoldpoetry
An old hand with fresh thoughts, sounds convincing?
Pep talk
You’ve not been turning out much lately His muse suggested Grumpily, he agreed after a stretch and yawn One word of advice I’ll offer she said You just have to get back on the horse Think up, up, up I want an easy life I know you like the back of my hand Think about […]
Haiku
Logophobia The writer will get nowhere Suffering from this (c) Poetry from The ManShed 24/08/19
The invisible train of thought
At night when all colours blend into one Writing about familiarity, the burden which life brings All this can be reversed with the dawn sound of bird song. Daily he walks by this ramshackle house It becomes more dilapidated week on week Those who made this house a home Now interred in a nearby graveyard […]
Ry Cooder : Maria Elena, Secret Love (lazy, hazy, days of Summer)
Originally posted on The Immortal Jukebox:
We drove West. We drove past the sacred mysteries of Avebury, Stonehenge and Glastonbury. We circled the Standing Stones. We crossed the forbidding Moors. We drove as far as we could go only stopping at the very edge of the Atlantic Ocean. It was late when we arrived. The…
Tiptoeing backwards
Feel the strain, when thought gets dry in the brain To the outsider quite difficult to explain when trying to compose a quatrain Try to get the mind in motion without causing to much commotion Only the person with pen in hand will win the battle, write as planned. Taking ones foot off the throttle […]
Going in search of purer language
Today he will make his way to pastures new Borrow from words which he has already written. Unquestionably? Don’t we all follow this path Once by this writing bug we are bitten. We owe it to words to give them their due He’ll do this until he draws his last breath. Words which are gentle, […]
He thought
Retreating to breathe It is better to be erratic than static Walking towards the window Breathing in the sweet air of morning Feeling the pain of another day Which was instantly erased Once he had something to say Shaping forms, strengthened and fed by words He nodded gently, he had salvaged words Composed a poem, […]
In The End ~ A Poem By Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet
Originally posted on Walt's Writings:
In the end Will we all Still be friends And meet again? Will we sing and dance And find romance In another world Beyond the moon? Will we still write In the dark of night? Bare our souls For our readers delight? In the end Will we even be?…
It’s so far away
Each evening come the sunset hour We sit and put the world to right Enthralled we watch its beauty As it’s slowly poured into a crystal glass The lounger always feels more comfortable Far removed from that office chair The sound of chatter, echoing from tree tops bird song Then the peace and quiet which […]
Chris's Blog 