Cold Turkey

Here’s a new poem from me brought on by a song I heard yesterday on BBC 6 Music. I’ve never heard the song before & can’t even remember what it was called or who sang it but it placed a riff in my head that I needed to do something with. Here’s the result –  not a song obviously but then, much as I love music, I’m not terribly musical.

 Cold Turkey

Gotta break the habit of you

stuck in my veins like a permanent fix.

 

Gonna shake you off

erase all memory

delete you from my contacts

de-friend you.

Gonna stop lying to myself

your tweets do not contain a coded message to me. Continue reading “Cold Turkey”

Half Life

Hello Readers

It’s been a while since my last blog but I have been beavering away editing some of the poems I posted during NaPoWriMo. That said I have managed to put together one poem. I hope you like it

Half Life

When you come to me tonight let’s not talk of them

and the things you do when I’m not there.

Let’s talk of what we might do, could do,

if it were just you and me.

Let’s pretend you’ll be here in the morning

sharing poached eggs and coffee,

talking about the day ahead across the table.

Let’s make plans of weekends away

and dinner parties with friends

even though they won’t happen.

Then should you mention something

with that look of sorry embarrassment

an anniversary or a birthday party,

something you can’t get out of

I’ll pretend my insides are not cut into a thousand pieces

that I understand ours is a half life for you

just one part of your sum.

I’ll tell you it’s the same for me too

that my time is not centred on waiting for snatched moments

when we have some meaning and for a few hours

my life is whole.

Blood Red Poppies Grow in This Field

Here’s a poem that was inspired by a book of poems by the World War One poets.

 Blood Red Poppies Grow in This Field

Blood red poppies grow in this field.

Delicate arched stems strain to control

bright lamps bobbing as if on elastic.

Day closes and hanging their heads

they fold themselves in like old men

made weary by the passing years.

Morning calls them to arms.

Tissue petals stand attentive to

the sound of bugles only they hear.

Too quickly their young crowns fall

leaving them bare headed save a cluster

of seeds soon buried in the earth,

a parting gift to remind us next year

that blood red poppies grow in this field.

 

 

 

The Bright Kid

Hello out there. I had myself a little mini break after NaPoWriMo so this is my first poem since it finished. It’s called The Bright Kid

 The Bright Kid

She loved school as a kid.

Always the clever one she never

had to try too hard to be good at it.

At fourteen she got tired, or lazy,

or something and being interested

became too difficult.  Continue reading “The Bright Kid”

These are the things

NaPoWriMo Day 30. The end is finally here just as I was getting into my stride. Thirty days and thirty poems, I never thought I would do it but somehow I’ve managed to pull it off without going into complete meltdown although I am ready for a bit of a break to give myself the space to do a few other things.

NaPoWriMo’s Day 30 prompt is to write a goodbye poem so as it’s the last one for this year I thought I’d give it a try. This is a sort of a goodbye poem and it’s called These are the things.

These are the things

These are the things I wanted to say to you

before you left me to sit alone on this big,

old couch where we’d spend our evenings

and where your favourite cushion sits

permanently dented by your rear end. Continue reading “These are the things”

Listen

NaPoWriMo Day 29.  Penultimate day, can’t give up now – there is an end in sight. Today’s poem is called Listen

Listen

Listen

There are ghosts scratching at the door,

bleeding through the walls

and rising through the floorboards.

Weary bodies press against the window.

Cold air streams through the keyhole

wrapping itself around you.

Icy lips rest against your ear and whisper

Catch life,

Catch it while you can:

Soon it will be gone.

 

 

The Rules of the Game

NaPoWriMo Day 28. Only two more days to go to the end of this year’s NaPoWriMo event. Today’s poem is called The Rules of the Game.

The Rules of the Game

Two children playing in the street,

the boy teases the girl until she gives chase.

He runs into a neighbour’s garden,

flowers parting under reckless feet. Continue reading “The Rules of the Game”