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Glad to see the back of you – dVerse Poetics

freyathewriter 34 Comments

This week’s dVerse Poetics is asking us to consider calendars – whether it’s our weekly planner, a diary for this year almost gone, a brand new one for next year – and get those words down for all to see.

I think I’ll let the poem speak for itself. Please visit dVerse to read the other thoughts of my fellow poets!

– Glad to see the back of you –

This year I wanted time to
stop
just before I knew
that I needed no more change.
But only in hindsight,
only after the fact
(that I still can’t swallow).
A bitter pill
stuck in my throat,
razor sharp edges
that cut,
a scab that I pick at
just to make sure.
That I loved you enough.
That I was good enough.
That there was time enough
to fit in a life’s worth of you.
There are too many dates
that stick in my mind,
numbers have the power
to bring me to my knees.
2014 – be better.
Please.

Isolation – dVerse Poetics

freyathewriter 25 Comments

This week’s dVerse Poetics is asking us to look to the future and wax poetic on what we see there. I’m not sure if this fits the sci-fi that Bjorn would like to see, but I’m all about the dystopia, so this is what you’re getting! It’s partially inspired by the Silo series of books by Hugh Howey which I absolutely adore.

I hope you enjoy my creation – and please visit dVerse to read the other imaginings of my fellow poets!

– Isolation –

Trapped beneath the earth’s crust

We only have the myths, encased in dusty pages

Of books never read

To help us imagine what Above

Is

We forgot to communicate

To breathe, to appreciate the wonders

Of days spent outside

In fresh clean air, with people we love –

Loved

The young went first, weakened

Lungs not developed, muscles made frail

By atmosphere choked

With acid rain, fallout from fossil

Fuels

We dug deep, in souls and dirt

Racing hard, dropping the baton, running

To stand still whilst Nature

Wreaked her havoc, unleashing

Hounds

Of Hell, firestorms raging

As we closed the trapdoors above

Sealing our fate –

We don’t know when we will rise, or even

If

…Time passes so slowly here.

All Whipped Up – dVerse Meeting the Bar

freyathewriter 42 Comments

Here’s my latest entry into the dVerse Meeting the Bar. This week, Gay is urging us to explore American Sentences, 17 syllables of deliciousness a little like haiku, but sentence-style and jazzed up, beat poetry style. Allen Ginsberg, anyone?

My selection are inspired by the sudden cold-snap we seem to be experiencing (I love a clear night sky with a bright, white moon!), plus a remembrance of the Great Storm of 2013 we were hit by a few weeks ago. Oh, and the sea, because that’s where I live!

*****

– All Whipped Up –

My beach is glorious in winter, few choose to brave the elements.

My cheeks, whipped raw by sand and spume, rosy testament to Nature’s gifts.

My waves suck and draw shingle, crush shells, shred seaweed, salt crusting old boots.

My shuttered shops, empty carousel, cacophony for eyes and ears.