Risotto
I wasn’t sure if I should post this in poetry or recipes. In the end I decided against recipes just in case anyone should be foolish enough to try and use it as one.
cautionary tale
to a five penny piece I shrunk to the size as life made me hard in the head and the eyes so press ganged was I on a leathery ship that lived in a pocket on the side of her hip and life wasn't easy and life wasn't hard it was tough
three cheers for the blues
two dogs had I I have to say called one Hipp Hipp called one Hooray Hipp Hipp a husky fearsome, true Hooray a spikey Kerry Blue and so I built my cabin small we hunted game from Spring to Fall time moving on from then to this
theoretical physics
cambridge on a sunny morn a professor deep in thought a quasi quantum quandary his mind now overwrought now the kernel of dilemma the cause of his unease? with fish and chips for dinner.. should I go with mushy peas? symbiotic clarit
Surf
5am.. I take my board and smell the sky the tide swims round the breeze a spell and says goodbye the initial hit of cold and salt gives way to sound I think of you and your eyes of dew fall on my ground and all the stuff we shar
Math or not?
I've worked out the computations, even ironed out the complications, if x squared equals 2 to the power of 3, then y is you and m is me. Now that is obvious for anyone to see, but the chanches we would be, together eternally, and being no relation,
ballad of a backwards playing jukebox
I'm going down to the record station.. I'm gonna buy me a backwards jukebox.. I'm going to play all my favourite songs wearing nothing.. but my hat and my socks and listen to Blaze.. as he sings every song.. ending to start.. and ill get all my s
roads and all
well heaven knows and heaven lies I'm driving down this road under stationary skies distances are vast I can see no end it's easy just to cruise it's easy to pretend if my truck was an angel if my truck had wings I'd fly past the c
Mods
Recently a poem of mine was deleted without explanation Not only is poetry a form art and self expression but historical documents giving reference to thought and feeling a particular moment in time. Lots of writers and artists have faced this situation The poem had comments and views. So I wrote the poem opening whoever decided to delete this work of art?might find the courage to explain why
streets (for Liam Reilly)
For Liam Reilly (Singer, Songwriter, RIP)
Cold Turkey
I raised my own turkey one year, to be part of our Yuletide fare, he lived in the house like a pet, and we spared no expense on his care. When it came to the fateful day, for the gathering to be fed, it was with a heavy heart, I took an axe
old cars and rusted hearts
the cafe was closing and the air was darker than age Mary was fixing her order and her world had become like a cage will you still see me on Sunday? will you wear that dress and look nice..? but you know that a question ai
the wreck of the catherine anne
fragments of stories half heard in the inn awoke in me fires stoked by the gin catherine anne moored in secret twilight buckled neath bullion jewelled to it's height a vast templar treasure won by the blade fortunes were lost to gre
Angel from Montgomery
John Prine RIP
something shimmering and right
pause and feel it so familier yet you've never seen it with your eyes a kind of innocent expression something naive something wise I wish I knew what you were searching for something shimmering and right a favour granted by yo
coining it
to a five penny piece I shrunk to the size as life made me hard in the head and eyes so pressed ganged was I on a leathery ship that lived in a pocket on the side of her hip and life wasn't easy and life wasn't hard it was tough bedding
if you're reading this
If you're reading this I'm no longer around it's a note I left I hope it's found when life is tricky you gamble cares so I slid down the apples and pears my rent was due and life got cheap finance drove off with my off road sheep my
we endure
I got your picture in my cabin your smiling face is everywhere your ghost is what I sail on through the ocean of your hair and my work it takes me everywhere and nowhere fast and slow it takes a man to plough an acre it takes a woman to make
the girl in the wave
on a spring time morn was wonder born a strange fluke cut the sky from eddied hair a magic stare told me that truth can't lie a girl who smiled from a face so wild my breath did leave my mind I somehow knew that girl was you a
the bookstore
tommy was the skipper on the tugboat 'whiskey smoke`.. he lived for his two husky dogs and loved his rum and coke.. twenty one and crazy.. I was rougher than the quay.. tommy was like a father.. who saved myself from me.. tommy told a story..
Free minds!
Free minds can’t see, free minds can’t be, It’s all an impossibility, freedom cannot be, There is no dictator, there is no creator, There is no future, there is no past, There is nothing here to last, Simple minds create the crimes, Profess the
on a train to Cornwall
I sit transfixed as thought it flies to see warmth twice inside her eyes reflected in the glassy pane two pupils flower past disdain a look of summer dressed in light a thirst beyond the drink of sight some lust for life and
Seek
This is a short poem of a heart hoping even in fear.It is incomplete,words pouring out of me in a few seconds. Commanding me to bring these feelings to life and I did because words too need to breathe.
I'm Cast Down
(*) this is not my experience, ( long ballad)! Poor man's life. . ; It has poor ryhming and meter in places ; I'll stop trying to fix myself, And step into a brand new life . O Jesus, I messed up very badly, Can you help me in a new start, Can you forgive a real sinner , Im sorry for all the wrong i've done , Wash me with your forgiveness, I'll try to walk a better path , Be the man I ought to be , Read your Word for direction, And live in Your Liberty . this is the finish.
somewhere
my mercurian lightness in love..
Marianne
step into the make believe footfalling into stones where memories are citadels wider than truth her bones I never knew the right words you stole them with your smile pirouetting effortlessly some Parisian mile the timbre of a meado
the wild swan of blackrock
down by the cold sea there lives a wild swan who floats high on the harbour till all tides are gone all alone in this world she sails by her leave and the heart of this viewer forever she'll thieve as dawn gathers shadows about its own hand th
to remake anew
she was crying in the sea unloved and worn she spoke to me her heart and boards were long ripped out her diesel engine left in doubt yet I heard her heard her true in her estuary of blue I spent a fortune on her hull I slept benea
Dec, 2019
I.. once had a girl or should I say I once had three blonde, brunette and red one crazy night took me to bed they told me they worked in the city and started to laugh I told them that I was quite willing but had torn a ca
you
If I could hold the quill of truth over the page of unfolding story and hold it still and let the page itself write the words of your defining glory if I could see the candle that lights the table beside your bed and see that light
The Walrus and the Carpenter (The Sequel)
“We have eaten all the oysters,” the Carpenter proclaimed. The Walrus looked around to see no single one remained. “They were so plump and tasty, though, we hardly can be blamed.” The Walrus and the Carpenter walked off along the sand, the
reasons I live on a boat
she looks at me, mid pub, and asks in a way, rhetorical as if she knows something I don't and will never "why do you live on a boat?" for the sounds of raindrops above my sleeping head for my conversation with dawn always the same woman
Divine
For all the wonderful memories we will create together, For all the beauty that builds and dwells inside, We live to love and share our feelings for each other, To my amazing woman this goddess of mine, For all the minute's, hours and every season of
notes on a woman
you know the summer's fading.. and the night is getting cold.. there's an east wind in the harbour.. and lord knows I'm getting old.. and my work it takes me everywhere.. and nowhere fast and slow.. it takes a man to plough an acre.. it takes a w
wandering anger
I met her in the winter.. in a bar upon the hill.. when the dark was carved from starlight.. and the moon had paid the bill I came in from the wilderness.. from the howling wind and rain.. I was weary from my journeys.. around other people's pain
Dante: nature is the art of God
(or the unwitting brilliance of someone who didn't know it) you never walked.. 'twas more the curve of the earth.. found a mooring.. in the shape of your foot you never sang..' twas more a distillation of vibrated yearning.. and what emerged..
silent highway
I see missed steps along the silent highway.. forgotten by the sound of endless cars.. how can a soul of your enduring conscience.. compete with all them souls that have no scars? silence is bitter when its raining.. you feel too much to set a de
"triangle"
spiraling debauchery the pit in which I fell tis fiendishly amoral the tale of which I'll tell I dreamt of tax accountancy but my parents had a goal to live their dreams vicariously by dint of rock and roll I played the aul triangle
that girl
I met me a girl called Deja Vu her folks seemed to know me and her dog did too she told me my future as we lied in bed she seemed to know the architect inside my head dirty blonde curls and big eyes blue and a voice that told ya t
rusted trucks
carrie walked out of the diner.. her shift was nearing its end.. and the trees made love in the darkness.. and her eyes to a smile did pretend talks about music and college.. did rise and fall on the air.. and a heart that once loved another.. for
cars and girls
the cafe was closing and the air was darker than age Mary was fixing her order and her world had become like a cage will you still see me on Sunday? will you wear that dress and look nice..? but you know that a question ain't a ques
Freedom of thought!
Inspired by d4nI314, she will know what it means!
RE: touching a dream
lovley poem liam...
RE: Winged Lovers
elo.......
RE: Enchanted Evening
very nice GH! rob...
RE: THIS IS YOU (dedicated to Watersandthewind)
I agree Morgen, but this poem is unique too.....great write...Kathy...
RE: The Little Mermaid that couldn’t...
Loved this story, its lovely when peaceful We can conjure something up from some simple thing we see....
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