What can I say?
What more can I say?
And, if I do get to say something, and then something else,
What can I say to follow that, and that?
What indeed?
Having said all of that,
I shall say no more
For that would be over-egging the point.
And there is certainly no point in doing that.
Is there?
Posted in Poetry
A Saturday challenge needs a theme
Like… it needs a hole in the head,
It is said
(Though not very loudly)
That Chinese Whispers
Can be heard
By a Chinese Whisper Listener
Unless, that is,
The Chinese Whisperer’s voice is hoarse.
In which case,
I would like to point out, that,
I seem to have strayed
From the point.
Saturday Theme!
That was it.
But, not Saturday Sonnet
So serious is that;
Saturday Shaiku?
A made up thing
(Like the Badriomaku)
And alliterative, though it is,
Would it be inviting?
Saturday Shenanigans?
Open to vast amounts of interpretation, I think.
Saturday Stream of Subconsciousness?
Wacky, perhaps, who knows.
Saturday Something?
Maybe better than Saturday Nothing!
I know…
Saturday Smile Surprise!
Anything that has a feel good factor
From a holiday haiku to a blog about an actor
Who learnt to drive a tractor
Or the like.
Perhaps Saturday’s Waffle
Like mine often are?
They go on soooooooooo long
But, never,
Too far.
Posted in Poetry
Poet Isaac
Sat upon the coast
Between Poet Quin
And Tim Tadjle
Contemplating.
“TheAtlantic Notion;
whereby all that is West of hereabouts,
Or thereabouts,
Is a haven for scoundrels
And layabouts.”
“That’s as maybe, Poet Isaac.” said Poet Quin.
“But, have you ever seen,
Or even ‘been’ further West of here?
I fear that your words
Towards the vagabonds of the Western World
Are just pale imitations
Of words that have or wouldst have been.”
“And I would like to say something here…” said Tim.
“But, I have nothing of interest to say.”
The others both looked at him.
“Thank you, Tim.” said Poet Isaac. Your contribution, most helpful, has been noted and considered by the rest of us here.
Now the mist it is building; high time for you… to disappear.”
And Tim did just that.
“That was clever – if a little bit harsh.” said Poet Quin. “Do you think we shall see Tim Tadjle again?”
“He shall return when the mist does desist.” announced Poet Isaac.
“For the once and future thing
Is
That Tim Tadjle
Will always exist.”
Poet Quin considered this.
And life went on.
At midday today
I delivered my last delivery
In Oxford’s fair county.
It’s been a lot of fun
And a lot of hard work
(Not that I shirk from doing the work)
But, now, the adventure moves on
To a different county;
To the south west we go.
And it shall be very different
That I ‘do’ know.
Here’s saying goodbye to the past
And hello to the future;
In Cornwall, at last.
Posted in Poetry
Word Up!
You’ve got to keep your word up
If it’s the last thing you do
Because, you know,
The poetry has to get through.
Through lands obscure with people mean
Across oceans vast as any seen
Underground in lairs where
The White Worm has been
And across the skies
On a trampoline?
Anyway, however you get there
Get there you must
Before all has been written
And you’re turning to dust
Whilst you still have the breath in your lungs to proceed
Word up, at once, it’s your task, yes, indeed.
Words put to page
Forever to age
Or not
As the UPPERCASE
Or lowercase
May be.
Words scrawled on paper
By hand and in haste
Or crayon, if necessary
To lose words, a waste.
So, Word Up!
And on with the show
To write, you know,
Is the right thing
To do
Before
You
Go.
G:)
Posted in Poetry
But I do have a Cornish futurey
Just some silliness from the week past. Ideas I have and sometimes they just need saying. I hope these are not too silly for you G:)
NB if any of these make no sense to you please let me know and I can clarify what on Earth I was waffling on about. G:)
Posted in Poetry
The Plaice I love
Is swimming near the ocean bed
I think his name is probably Isiah
Why?
Because…
Well, just because.
Posted in Poetry
 | Jane on “Smile, please!” |
 | Transit Address on Poetry in Motion |
 | Gayatri Sharma on The Mysterious Affair at Tate… |
| Jane on My Love… |
 | trE on My Love… |
