Poetry Corner

[brum]

I've been inspired by other members of the forum to start this thread, which is open to anyone who wants to contribute their own poetry. So, here goes!

End of Season

The summer run is over, finally.

The stage has been swept

And the props are packed.

I climb the steps to the open-top deck

And watch as the theatre fades behind me

And with it my life, as I know it.

Inevitably, the bus turns a corner

And I have to look forward.

Staring ahead the space seems infinite.

Through the mist, echoes of my last scene

Still resonate, familiar sounds calling me back.

But the bus doesn't stop.

[ThinLizzy]

Oh, why not....

Occupy all Available Space

Be sure, in this city, to occupy all available space.

Leave no room for maneuver -

No man ever lets a space be a space,

To leave it quiet would cost too much.

Accumulate more useless junk, and occupy more space

In your face, present and correct.

That?s how it?s taught on billposters and over the tannoy.

Annoy and be damned ? it matter not.

Thought in recession, value diminished,

Knowledge is useless ? takes up time not presence.

The essence of survival in this urban chaos -

Is to defend your bid to occupy all available space.

[Peckhamgatecrasher]

West Ham stuff the mighty Arsenal? They couldn't stuff a marrow.

Pure poetry.

[brum]

Bravo TL. It makes me want to move out of town!

[ThinLizzy]

Eek, most of my poetry is pretty dark -- take inspiration from Emily Dickinson Sylvia Plath and John Cooper Clarke

Loving your work :)

[brum]

Poetry brings out the darker side in me too...it seems more suited somehow. I certainly feel more inclined to write during the low points. I haven't written much lately but with this recession all about us that may well change! I'm going away for a couple of days so I'll post another poem when I return. Actually this one will be quite uplifting, in spite of its title - Spit and Snot..!!

[ThinLizzy]

Urgh, gross! Well, look forward to it :)

TL

[Sarah J.]

A Sonnet For England

In grey morning light the world was asleep,

As the birds in the trees sang their bright song.

The chill air grabbed hold and forced me to leap,

Icy floor under foot, skipping along.

Warm cosy kitchen, teakettle whistling,

Rubbing the chilblains out of my fingers.

The hairs on my arms, frightened and bristling,

The smell of toast in the air still lingers.

Tea in hand, toast on plate, I about face,

Padding along bare foot back to my bed.

Gardens, under a blanket of white lace,

Cats persistently call out to be fed.

The yellow sun glows low in the pale sky,

I curl up happily in my bed, and sigh.

[Sarah J.]

ThinLizzy Wrote:

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> Eek, most of my poetry is pretty dark -- take

> inspiration from Emily Dickinson Sylvia Plath and

> John Cooper Clarke

> Loving your work :)

I don't know. I can be swayed by either mood to write. Some of my writing is very dark, and quite odd when I look back at certain pieces now. But lately I have been inspired a lot by feelings that nature gives me, seasons, moods etc. I've also formed a (healthy or unhealthy!!) attachment to sonnets; they completely fascinate me. The only form of poetry that I love more is the Villanelle. But I always get tangled in the structure. 19 lines, two rhymes, 5 tercets and a quatrain....then this line has to rhyme with that line recurring here blah blah. It does my head in! Give me good old Iambic Pentameter any day!

On a separate tangent....

TL I completely love the feeling of congestion you have managed to capture with not only your choice of words, but the structure of your piece. If you glance at it on the page, it even looks like it is about lack of space; without having to read a word. It makes me think about my journey on the tube in the mornings.

[Brendan]

Being too hung-over to work this morning I have decided to reflect upon my eveing last night in verse.

The Atheist and the Vindaloo

I went for a curry one Thursday late

With an atheist from work

Pints of inspiration

Had sparked conversation

About the heavens the seas and the earth

?Welcome to the Bahji?

Said a waiter called Charlie

And - ?Sir, would you try not to shout?

So we swore to being sober

As he beckoned us over

For the pub had ejected us out

The Bahji in Borough is a sight to behold

Like an opulent temple of yore

Every chair is unique

And the linen plastique

And joss-sticks drop ash on the floor

As we took to a table

Just a little unstable

Upsetting a banker en-route

Charlie told us of specials

Served in stainless-steal vessels

With the poppadums thrown in to-boot

And there in the gloaming we spoke and we sang

And were told to please shut-it or leave

And there in the gloaming we drank and danced

And the atheist spilt wine on my sleeve

Next we got to talking about Hawking and Dawkins

And I ordered a lamb Vindaloo

?Fuck you? said my friend ?I?ll believe what I want?

And, ?Curry?s just Indian stew?

So what could I do to placate my friend

To relieve existential distress

Except to drink to the virtues of spices and beer

And the curve of her impressive chest

Which earned me a kick in the shins I might add.

(It?s serious business this poeting stuff);-)

[Jeremy]

Brendan Wrote:

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> Every chair is unique

> And the linen plastique

I liked that bit.

[Ted Max]

Harsh criticism, but I'm sure E J Brendan can take it on the chin.

[Sarah J.]

Brendan Wrote:

>

> As we took to a table

> Just a little unstable

> Upsetting a banker en-route

> Charlie told us of specials

> Served in stainless-steal vessels

> With the poppadums thrown in to-boot

Oh my goodness, You had me laughing so hard I'm now in tears. And being that I am home, wallowing beneath the misery of my body's resident (for this week) influenza, I can safely say that your little rhyming gem has pepped me up considerably :) I loved the "Upsetting the Banker en-route" bit. Lovely stuff

SJ

[ThinLizzy]

Brilliant! ;)

[Jeremy]

Ted Max Wrote:

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> Harsh criticism, but I'm sure E J Brendan can take it on the chin.

Not so... I didn't say the rest of it wasn't good too. Maybe I should have said that I particularly like that bit.

Anyway, let's hear your effort Ted Max - I thought you were supposed to be the literary figurehead in these parts!

[Brendan]

Steady on now chaps. Just remember it?s all fun and games until somebody wears a beret.

[TillieTrotter]

Brenda, I love you. Welcome home:))

[Brendan]

Ted Max Wrote:

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> Harsh criticism, but I'm sure E J Brendan can take

> it on the chin.

I just figured this out (by googling ?EJ? AND ?Poet?. I?m smart me *taps nose*). You?re calling me a Pratt aren?t you? Sheesh, everyone?s a critic.

[Ted Max]

Would I ever? I was referring to E J Thribb (17?)), Private Eye's resident poetical obituarist.

[Brendan]

Oh, jolly good then. And there was me tightening my suspenders in preparation for a Friday afternoon flounce.

[Ted Max]

My grandpa wore suspenders, bless him. But he was a gentleman, and would never have considered a flounce. A gentle, gin-eased slide into a weekend of mild bemusement was more his thing. Think on, Brendan.

[FrustratedLawyer]

My humble contribution, a little ditty I penned on a wet day in Oxford:

Untitled

I love to wonder in the rain

Splashing in the puddles;

'Cos when I get home from the rain

I get a bunch of cuddles.

[????]

My old man said "be a Millwall fan"

I said"F*ck off bollox you're a ****"

[brum]

I'm enjoying this thread. Hope it continues for a while longer. Here's my next offering, having dashed back to London from up 'north before the snow comes...

Snot and Spit

At 13 months Liz can't say many words

So she expresses her feelings by actions.

Imagine then, my delight when

Today as I lay down in the park,

She threw herself across my chest

Her arms wide and embracing as she

Pushed her face onto mine and with a

Smile in her eye ran her slobbering wet mouth

From my chin up to my forehead.

It was, for her, a kiss for her dad.

It was for me a moment where nothing else mattered,

Just that shimmering trail of

Snot and Spit across my face.

[brash]

Nice one Brum!

Has anyone any opinions on this one?

Salami and Marmalade

Salami and Quince Marmalade presents

The girl with a seductive smile

Exotic gifts of friendship

Not instruments of fervent beguile?

La speciality de Barcelona

A mischievous look in her eye

Enchanted to be in her presence

Sad when she said goodbye

That mysterious woman reminisce

And the taste of that pensive gift

More than Salami and Marmalade

She bestowed a spiritual lift

Frank.