This page is where I will be placing my own poems and occasionally, some of those from my favourite poets. I have been writing poetry since childhood, my very first published work,was a long poem about the war in Vietnam. I was about 12 or 13 years old.
That poem was printed in our local paper and when I saw my words there in print, for the very first time, I knew then, for absolute certain, that all I wanted was to be a 'real' writer. I have had poems as well as articles printed in magazines and anthologies on a few occasions since.
I was aiming to create a few small booklets of my poems, but haven't quite got round to printing them yet. I will put some of the poems on here at some point, as the site progresses.
With my poetry, my ambition has always been - to write a poem which is so beautiful it will make people cry. An impossible act I know, as we are all affected differently by different scenarios. Still, I will keep on trying.
Of course, as most of you know, poetry does not always have to rhyme to be called poetry, all it needs is a good flowing rhythm, a 'beat' if you will. I work in both rhymed and 'free' verse and will be placing some of both on here over time, please give me your opinions (and they are not all about cowboys! None of them are in fact.)
Here is the first one for you to peruse at your leisure. Any parents reading will, I am sure, understand this one!!
A CHILD IS A BLESSING.
A child is a blessing,
or so it is said.
Just look at that angel,
asleep in its bed.
Soft skin and sweet lips,
and innocent yet.
A heartbreaking vision,
I'm willing to bet.
A child is a blessing.
And I'll bet you this,
whoever said that,
well, they never had kids!
* * * * * *
Here's a comic one, because not all poetry has to be 'deep and meaningful'. Enjoy!
'BIG BLUE EYES'. (c).
You looked at me with big, blue eyes,
I was delighted.
Until I found out from a friend,
you are short sighted.
You trembled with passion when we got near.
I found out later you trembled with fear.
Your smile was so wide, your teeth so white.
I found out later they came out at night.
We went out together, once or twice,
I found out quickly, it just wasn't right.
I'd to buy my own drinks and pay my own way.
You said that you were on very low pay.
Honestly, truly, I wouldn't have bothered,
But did you really have to bring your Mother!
* * * * *
This next one was included in a national anthology a couple of years ago. Very different to the previous one and one of my own personal favourites.
Sitting alone in a brightly lit cafe.
Clawed hands clutching the warming cup.
Misty eyes gaze through Arabica perfume,
People pass by, and she never looks up.
What does she see in the ribbons of steam?
Who does she hear in the voice of the crowds?
Where does she go, as she sits all alone?
Back to the time when she stood tall and proud?
As memories pass the window, one by one.
The younger she smiles out from her old lips.
She used to be a Goddess on the dance floor.
There's no more dancing on arthritic hips.
You can't wish back Time, it goes too fast.
Dance as hard as you like, you can never catch up.
Time stirs you around. You're there, then you're gone.
She watches the bubbles in her cold coffee cup.
* * *
Hope you enjoyed them? Look out for some more over time. And please do leave me a comment telling me what you think. I really can cope with honest and constructive opinions you know!