Tag: sentences

How I wrote this poem

The subject matter of a poem must come from whatever is inside your head.So reading more poetry or any well written literature contributes.The form of the poem may determine what rises to the surface as you write.I got the idea of beginning with a negative from some poetry newsletter I get [Sorry,not kept  reference] I was reluctant to write a sonnet.Iambic pentamet sounds frightening.To help me keep in my the right structure I recite

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day

Then I have to start,I think if a first line

“Not love nor money should we seek to steal;”

I like that as there is some alliteration,it’s the right length.and I agree with the sentiment.Once I have a first line then  the next lines seem to come more easily.THe whole sonnet is a surprise to me.Did I know I thought like that?Well,in a way, but r so explicitly.I have written about five now.They do resemble poems by the Metaphysicals like Donne.So I am unsure if I have found my own voice.I think the more one write the more likely it is you will find your own voice.Check the meter.Check for cliches.Check for adverbs used to correct the meter

Read poetry in books,on blogs,on the internet.Study some guides like

Teach yourself:writing poetry.

I like

W H Auden ,,Sylvia Plath,SimonArmitage,Donne,Marvell…..,Shakespeare,Rilke,Seamus Heaney,Hopkins,W B Yeats/

but you really need to read some modern poetry,

bus stop 6

BY SOME GRACE

Not love nor money should we seek to steal;
Nor for self praise and honor be in need
For these things cannot ever truly heal.
And onto a wrong path may often lead.

Not to vice nor virtue must our wills be tied;
Yet by some grace we gently may be led
Our will directs attention which denied
May let our pride control our thoughtless head.

Not good nor bad can track the vane of God
Far from our sightless eyes are his affairs.
Yet Faith and Hope can be a dowsing rod
With Love the force to trace the Spirit bare.

Oh,come down,Spirit,take me as your wife
Fill me with holy grace and with new life

Sympathy

Sympathy is sometimes

Norfolk UK
By K

Sympathy is sometimes good,

Especially if you are  not made of wood.

Empathy can be superior

If to metal,your brain’s nearer.

Do you want to be fulfilled?

Don’t get ground by coffee mills.

Would you like to be superior?

Do not venture to your interior.

Journeys often end in struggle.

As they make the mind more muddled.

Archaic words can be a joy,

But sometimes archaisms annoy.

Do you like tea from Ceylon?

Alas my own supply’s all gone.

Do you want to study grief?

Take your lessons from a leaf.

After short weeks on a tree

To be cast off is destiny.

Into earth the leaves return

To become food for journeying worms.

So it will be for us all,

Regarding not   your status   tall

What nonsense….or is it worse?

Always keep some nuts in your pocket when you go out.I do,for sure.I love to feel them if I am worried
He had a broken start in life and his motor never got him going properly.
And his doors were locked shut so he was lonely.He forgot he had his own key,you see.We must all remember that.
She has a following soul but no humans follow her blog.What do you advise?
To eat cake?We’re not in France!l
I froze in any other game but cricket.I kept  the boundary in a marked manner
Her nose on any other face would need a pleat.
All  those toes and never had his own feet.~what a shame
Icecream goes down the little red lane,even when it’s too sweet .
Hold my nose,whilst I tweet.Who are you? I’m just a sheep
Hell,no!I know why any other fame is indiscreet.
I have only a solitary ghoul living with me but he is very sweet if lonely for his own kind.
So is there a love site for ghouls on the Web.Ghouls in love?
I said,Ghouls, not,fools
All the world is a love site for fools
Ghouls full of longing please apply to be rehomed with birds and bees
There was a hole full of tomorrows in Eden but they missed it with the big Apple
I saw all the horrors and skipped them till I was old enough which is now
I am a sole tactician with discretion and ammunition but no weapons except care full poems
He has a beer in the Mart and a lemon tart for his heart…… he wants to die suddenly in the pub garden with a playgirl from Page 3
Abandon Whips.Vote by Conscience… what,a  Revolution? I don’t relieve you
All the bands on the ship went flat together.What a bit of luck!
All hands to the Quip…keep it smiling.
About your face… it’s almost a poem in itself.Don’t say a word!Say a sentence,
Above a board a bread knife hung.He wondered what to eat after that? I suppose the handle is wooden,he mused to himself.
Absence makes the heart grow longer but not much!
A face in the hole looked squashed but he recognized his partner,Jane.What a pain she was and no mistake.
He keeps his face up his sleeve.. it’s his pet neurosis.He gives it all  his care and love..But is that wise, to love a neurosis?
Achilles heel was very sore.To be blunt,it killed him.Or permitted it.We all have our weak spots.Sometimes our whole being seems like a weak spot.In that case you need armour.. or amour as the French might suggest
An acid test is given to people who gossip.If they test positive,they are sent away to live in a green forest clearing brambles and nettles, with their bare hands.

Give me sunshine,give me rhyme

I love you till the end of time

Maps

Words structured make a map for me
Sentences enable me to see.
But there are maps of other kinds
And different maps suit different minds.

The artist with her skilled brushstrokes,
Her unique sense of the world evokes.
This goes straight to the heart,and tells
Of feelings’ deep, unfathomable wells.

The sweet, plain singing of the spheres
Moves those who hear to happy tears.
Yet notes are written on just five lines
From which can flow all music’s rhythms

There are so many different worlds,
Which all these maps to us unfurl.
The Art of Travel is to guess
Which Map will suit which World the best.

Rubber soul

Prose  at any other time is acceptable but in the late winter we need poetry.

A solitary ghoul hid  invisibly in the wardrobe with my dresses and
whispered poems into my ear.That’s my excuse and I never use it.
A hole  full of  invisible banging ghosts annoyed us all day and the
sea gulls annoyed us all night.Or perhaps it was the other way round?
A bowl full of tomorrow’s roses will be welcome tonight at dinner.
A rubber sole of discretion for spies is available on demand.Apply carefully
Getting a  fiery heart helps you to keep warm but it can burn out faster.
Abandon whips and shades of grey.We want roses all the way
About traces of flu…wash them away with TCP or hot Tea
Above soared the swallows and one bit my tongue …was that wrong?

Do the rich prey on humans ?
Absence makes the heart grow in yonder green valley where a pretty lady lives.
Absolute power disrupts  dissolutely and powerlessness is the same
A face in a hole depicts existential nothingness in graphic
detail.

It’s a cartoon  for tea today

God save our butter beans.

Long may you hear see sunbeams.

God waived our dreams.

Too many fools are stewing in all our state offices.
Did poinsettias come here from some other place or are they natives?

Immigrants?Send me back to Saxony to the farm my ancestors mowed/

Too many people let out their wrath.On immigrants
Achilles.. no deal

Too many fools embroiled

The finger on the dial keeps looking for the loo.

image

Now and then some women like men

B

I am the widow of his soul

Now silence is folded and put to bed

He was worth the surprise of life.

He stares with eyes like green diamonds.How can I win the appeal?

Stop and tell the roses

He blest the waters as the froze… and he got bitten in the toes.

He has a horn on one side.. the other wore off when the bull fought him ove the cow..

I fill the bends in time with laughter

With me it’s rhymes after time.Line after line

Time for men…. now and then

Rhyme still wounds those with no skin.

A boring groan is soon tossed into the ocean.

Did you ever get that dramatic feeling?

Did your wife fall right through the ceiling?

What a hole!I bet you’re reeling.

Take it back and it’s too real

Hoping for profane love.. ..I have no shame now

Sometimes I take a list of cliches and change the words a little.

It gives me a kind of clay which I can then work from in creating a poem.

It is exercise for the brain though different from Su Doku

You should try it if you are unwell..laughter is so very good for you,

A half naked idea is fit  only for  raving mad philosophers in the wood!

I believe it was Eddy Days picnic
He  has hammered  his wails into the bookshelf and, oh my,how it groans with my books on top as well..can you treat it for sadwood disease,doctor
Take your hand off my fee.I need my pay.I am a psychoanalyst and I’m ok.Keep talking and I’ll have your card.
 He can strangle any cat with  his gut love
May I put my elastic bands into the cat’s tale? Will it come out as an elastic book?
Why is there handwriting  on your wall?Is it part of a pattern or or you short of paper>
She was as handy as a pick  on a locket
They called in  the slang police ,I swear,you dick headed prick.On my life…this is no slang it’s dirt.it’s profane,again
What a  lemony tang there is in your hair! Do you swash it?
I hang on his  evil words trying to bring them to earth for burial
May I hang myself from your picture rail to see if anyone wants  to buy me?I am free to a bad home.
I am as happy as a freshly boiled pan of blackcurrant  jam on the aga.That may be a simile.
Please do not move this oak as it’s  happy  in the park.Tryers may be persecuted by their  dispositions.
Are you happily pampered? If not, don’t come here as I love to pamper people more and more…and then more.
What is a bard’s day or night but a long flow of  growling rhythm?
He was headed like the best notepaper…. but ended in the Bin anyway
What is a hard stop and how is it related to a full stop? Comma or colon- buy one get ten free.
I find tulips hard to swallow.
What a hair’s breadth  from an  idea,she was….if only she had read on.
He has a leg up my chimney. and he’s on fire.How dire.. I perspire.I forgot my deodorant but hey,I can get washed up now.I have a groovy mind of love.

It’s oblivious and we are obvious so that makes three.

Photo0766

We were  both staring at what was hurting  our shared boundary.What we had in common was a pasting of grammar and  some full stops from the  old church organ.. not much help to a pair of  old fools.Especially when it was just a mouth organ from a bizarre barre ballet shop in Covent Garden
We were speechless  like  a pair of  cowardly  sheep up a mountain  in  Wales.Not a baaa baaa between us. Up till then nothing  had come between us except rhymes or reams of  blotting paper

Well,there is a saying:neither rhyme nor reason  and we certainly had no reason….I’m only teasing.We were as irrational as the square root of two.i.e.rational in the wrong  sort of way.Unexpected, like almost everything in this life, but full of seasoning.Rationality was  initially based on proportion then subsequently on distortion and later contortion into  the field of the imaginary.Everything is imaginary … that’s oblivious to me, anyway. And everything  is abstract too.Except lions in the zoo and me and you.Shall we call it a day now?I  am happy with my sentence of a week in the wilderness.Call that a sentence? No arguing, as you may be persecuted and scolded at an auction sale.And that is  only the end of it all.. we lost the beginning in the womb of time.Well,may be you can remember

In my end is my beginning

Time and the bell have buried the day.

The sunflower carried my life away