Category: Occasional Poem

Occasional Poem, Writing: Poetry

Fog

 

I seek the sadness in the crowd of seven faces

I’m surprised by so many.

I stand inside this dead house honouring my father.

 

As a child I prayed every night

I asked God for forgiveness that only I could give

– but how do you forgive fear?

 

I stand inside this dead house sheltering my heart

colder than the frigid limbs hidden in the coffin

Maybe one day I will forgive

but not today. The dead body will not change it. 

Then I remember.

 

You are still alive. 

––––

Firstly, I have to leave a note to my sister – I am perfectly fine, I am happy, this little scribble is just something I have been working on for a while and is absolutely not a reflection of my current mood or state of mind.

Ok that’s it, sorry – last time I published something similar I think I got her little worried 🙂

Secondly, I have to say – I’m having so much fun attending this writing class – I’m looking forward to the weekend just to read some of the other poems and meet new people. I have only managed a fraction so far and I am impressed by the talent that is here. Well done you folks!

 

Writing 201: Fog

Occasional Poem, Writing: Poetry

Homo (genus) H. partius (species) of Animalia (kingdom)

You make me laugh! Thursday, the new

Friday? Oh, hun that is so last centu

ry. Monday is the new Sund

ay and Tuesday is the

warm up to

the we

ek

en

d!

D

in

ne

r, glass of wine or two

_

gets you ready for the date

night – Wednesday if you

must ask – love hidden in

a cocktail bar. Thursday’s

when the real fun starts;

office meeting in a pub e

nding in the 80’s bar. Fri

day? Who cares my dear

? Friday doesn’t count.

No one remembers it

anyway!Wake up w

hen the sun goes do

wn greeting Saturd

ay’s night – and

greet it all nigh

t long! There

‘s no other w

ay! Kicked

out of the

club? S

top for

Sun

da

yr

oa

st

an

dn

ev

er

le

av

eb

ef

or

et

he game is lost. Or won. In

which case we just go on!

_

Oh sweetie, Thursday, the new Friday? That is so last century.

___

This was exhausting! I’m going to bed.

Writing 201: Animal

 

 

 

Occasional Poem, Writing: Poetry

Trust

 

Past shining within permanent darkness

Astronauts floating in a metal cage

Strong bonds we trust in to hold them.

 

Trouble spotters glued to their monitors in Houston

Routine day in the office –

Out in the past linking the present.

 

Utilising theories, hypothesis and knowledge to

Till anti-matter with our curiosity,

Illustrious men and women

Lusting to reach the big bang.

 

Us, trusting the science.

____

Space fascinates and terrifies me in equal measures. I admire everyone who has dedicated their lives to studying and exploring the universe and the courage of the individuals who go out there pretty much alone for months, living and working in confined quarters, without real food or gravity. I’d love to visit a space rocket/vessel/ship (because who wouldn’t) but it would have to be safely parked here on this lovely planet.

 

As for the form – acrostic – I’m not entirely sure if I fit in with this poem or not but I am most certainly playing with the letters. I have taken second, third and fourth letter of the first word in the line and started a new world/line with these three letters, and I did this for all the lines.

Past -> Astronaut

Astronaut -> Strong etc

Only exception being Illustrious -> Lusting where I ignored the double L.

 

For a more straightforward acrostic poem, let me allow to refer you to one of my older posts – where I didn’t even know that this is a form and it has a name. I can be very ignorant.

Writing 201: Trust

Occasional Poem, Writing: Poetry

Water

 

Panic! Fear. Save me!

Muscles spasming, lungs like peas.

My first winter swim.

 

–––

I have been thinking about testing and stretching my poetic muscles for a while now and as if Universe somehow new about these plans of mine, there comes Writing 201: Poetry! So for next couple of weeks or so (as I can’t promise I’ll keep the prescribed schedule), I will be posting my attempts of poems according to the given assignments.

Writing 201: Water

Occasional Poem, Writing 101

Day 10 [Writing 101]

Clementines, satsumas, mandarines –

one of those small round oranges,

the ones that come with Christmas.

They sit in the big white bowl

surrounding the wise pineapple

or jump over bananas.

The apples are green with envy

for they get all the attention.

Walnuts are trying to get through but

they alway fall through the cracks.

They are the rocks at the bottom of the fruit display.

Ho ho ho

 

~ yeah, hmm, random. I’m not much of a foodie but I do remember the excitement of Christmas when we were allowed the small orange fruit – lets call them satsumas although it might had been mandarines (does anyone know the difference?). Exotic fruit was a short supply commodity in the 80s in the communist countries, especially if you suffered from lack of money as well (which we did). And although we have embraced the advantages of free economy, up to this day I only buy satsumas at Christmas time.

Writing 101 – Day 10

A to Z, Occasional Poem

[U] is for Upper Crust

Upper Crust, the saviour when

the train door closes on your drunken face,

another half an hour

waiting in the dark and rain

Saviour when you really shouldn’t be outside

or by yourself

The feeding hand that will ease your hangover

the supplier of stodge that

makes the next day little bit prettier.

Upper Crust, we (the insolent idiots who always miss the point where one more pint is a pint too much)

applaude you.

 

U in the A to Z challenge.

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A to Z, Occasional Poem

[D] is for Domestic Goddess

 

I stumble on mismatched pairs of shoes and hit

the coat hanger dressed in eight layers.

The army of handbags sulks in the corner

as I throw my rucksack on top of them.

I call a salad cooking

and boil water strictly for coffee.

The fridge shelters butter and ketchup.

Sometimes I buy bread.

I make the bed just to find my socks

or the notes I made the night before.

For some reason pens and papers like to play

hide and seek under the covers.

I will never be your perfect wife.

Though dust has no chance

as I can’t stand my sneezing.

I’m just saying,

don’t leave your undies around.

I hate mess.

 

D in the A to Z challenge 

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