Tag Archives: #nationalpoetryday

‘The Diminishment of Truth’ – a Sequence #NationalPoetryDay, #NPD

This sequence of poems I have called, ‘The Diminishment of TRUTH’

“TRUTH Poem”


is wasted on the youth;

“Where is your proof?”

you ask.

“How uncouth!”

I respond,

“My truth

may not be your truth –

for I am long in the tooth

and you…

are young…

and inexperienced…

and have limbs that don’t creak.


of which I speak,

is for the older person,

the bolder person,

the ‘the days are getting colder’ person.


Or her.

Or them.

Or it.


Not sure about that bit –

I may have to edit

a lit-

A little bird once told me

that I was worth two bushes…

that was handy advice

at the time;

though I never wrote about it

in a rhyme.

I may have misremembered that…

it could have been a cat.

As T. S. Eliot once said:

‘A book is like the colour red’

or maybe it was something else

that he said.

Truth be told,

I’m growing old.

Older by the second,

and my truth is not

all that it shaped up to be…

am I fecund?


I hadn’t the foggiest what that word meant…

until I looked it up.

Does that make me a mug?

Or a cup?


“TRUTH Limerick”

There once was an abstract concept called TRUTH,

that was given to all in their youth

but, the the truth of it is

TRUTH is all bubbles and fizz,

and LIES are the gin and vermouth.


“TRUTH Haiku”

TRUTh is just a word…

National Poetry Day

proposed as a prompt.


“TRUTH Couplet”

A couplet were walking their dogma one day,

TRUtH be told, they never did, but they may.


“TRUTH in a Single-Line”

TRUTH is the luxury of youth.

And a ‘Parting Shot Across The Bows’:



and yet,

nothing at all.

My NPD Poem Effort

My NPD Poem Effort- ‘On National Poetry Day’

On National Poetry Day

I hope to be able

to read my best…


better than the rest…


that I wrote a while ago.

It needs a bit of work,

which I shall not shirk.

I know, that it will be difficult –

if not impossible –

to better the best;

but, I do believe

that the best can be bested;

at the least, I shall be tested – maybe arrested – probably not –

then, if I do get my my muse truly interested,

I can be sure that the time invested

in decomposing

then recomposing my rhyme

will be worth the effort.

But, you know me…

Dog Song

Dog Song

Every dog has it’s day

Or so they say;

and if you’re a dog

I suppose that’s okay,

Bit, I’m not sure if they know

‘bout these things, anyway.

The Darkling Thrush – Thomas Hardy

The Darkling Thrush


I leant upon a coppice gate

When Frost was spectre-grey,

And Winter’s dregs made desolate

The weakening eye of day.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

Like strings of broken lyres,

And all mankind that haunted nigh

Had sought their household fires.

The land’s sharp features seemed to be

The Century’s corpse outleant,

His crypt the cloudy canopy,

The wind his death-lament.

The ancient pulse of germ and birth

Was shrunken hard and dry,

And every spirit upon earth

Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among

The bleak twigs overhead

In a full-hearted evensong

Of joy illimited;

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

In blast-beruffled plume,

Had chosen thus to fling his soul

Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings

Of such ecstatic sound

Was written on terrestrial things

Afar or nigh around,

That I could think there trembled through

His happy good-night air

Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

And I was unaware.



Would I even attempt

to write a poem

for #NationalPoetryDay?

Well, I might,

if the time was right.

Not that it would set the world alight –

actually, that’s not a thing I would wish to see,

the poetry world ablaze

from a poem by me.

Not, once again, not that


is likely to happen.

But, today is the day;


and it’s here to stay!

PS for a little while,


“There’s mizzle on the moor!”

“There’s mizzle on the moor!”

‘Oh, no!’ we think –

for we are attuned not to blink

at the radio announcer’s weather report.

And, anyway, what is a bit of mizzle

when it’s on the moor?

It’s not as if we live on the moor.

Perhaps, if we did,

a boy of mizzle might be a worry

back to bed we might have to hurry;

or, if we are going out,

we may have to prepare for the ‘mizzling’ weather –

seems there’s a lot of it about!

Coffee-Time Amusings #8 #NationalPoetryDay #Freedom

Coffee-Time Amusings #8 (Thursday 28th Sept.)
I’m just drinking my coffee…
Thinking about Freedom.
And what it means to me.
I think that I tend to take my freedoms for granted.
I would probably take them more seriously if I had fought hard and long for them.
Around the world there are people who have little or no freedom.
They are often seen in adverts that are asking for £3 a week (or the like) and I think that maybe they (the adverts ‘and’ the people) are largely ignored by the populace. If the tables were turned we would soon appreciate those small kindnesses of strangers.
Freedoms gifted easily by means of where we are born against freedoms gained by gritted determination?
Freedom to think and do the simplest of things without fear of harm or punishment.
Freedom to live a life.
Freedom to live.

Wherever you are

And whatever you are drinking…
Today is a day to consider ‘freedoms’
As is every day.

A Poem About ‘Freedom’ for #NationalPoetryDay #Freedom

FoR EvEr DOoMed

To walk alone

To say a word

To use a phone
To drive a car

Wed as you like

To be bizarre

And leave your bike
FoR EvEr DOoMed

To be

For all

Not just me.

The Way of the Word (not based upon a play by William Congreve)


The Way of the Word

It is the way of the word
To infuse, confuse and abuse
My mind.

I grasp at it
Then it’s slipped away
This happens a lot each day

I think I have it
And then find out
It’s not ‘the’ word
But ‘a’ word
One of billions
All needles
In haystacks.

Vega & Haiku’s National Poetry Day Walkus (80-82)

haiku-poetry walkus 80-82 NPD

Walku 80 (NPD)


“Are we writing one?”


“National Poetry Day?”


“It is.”


“Yes! One each!”


Walku 81 (Vega’s Haiku – This Pup is a Poet!)


“I can write haiku;

That are full of sweet phrases –

And still chase my tail!”


Walku 82 (Haiku’s Haiku – It’s the Little Things)


“The trees are all tall;

The river is wide and deep;

Why am I so small?”


Haiku and Vega 1 edit