Spirit

 My Spirit was downhearted one day

By another low spirit who

had unwise words to say

to make the day - an unhappy one

No boosting my ego

just lowering my spirits

I'd forgotten, how bad it felt

it's been that long

Words can do such dastardly things

Words matter - they reach you on

high or low levels

They can lead us to terror - if we let them

Words can cut like swords

are capable of hate

and of love

of war and peace

Words can mean so much

and so little

without a high spirit talking

words just die.

The really great thing is
I am a free spirit!

(30th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Notes on Bob

Notes on Bob

Bob said it; and it can be read as pure poetry

'So Much Things to Say' (Exodus)

'So Much Trouble in the World' (Survival)

He drew his power

from the sprightliness of his music,

which belies the seriousness of the words

Not even a question of 

No easy answers as

No answers at all are

put forward here in this

bleak vision of the way things are

So Much Things to Say

Bob's faith in God sustained him throughout

and his music continues to up lift.

(29th poem for NaPoWriMo)

SKIN

SKIN 

She likes her skin’s light brown tone,

which darkens at the strength of the sun’s rays

deepening to a rich and darker brown along with a glossy look.

She feels wonderful in constant sunshine

merged with a glorious ocean breeze.

She likes all kinds of skin tones from darker to lighter hues.

Some don’t really see her; the kind of person she is.

They may have good eyesight and eyes that are blue, green or even brown 

but really they do not ‘see’ her.

Is it really all about her skin that she is living in?

A skin which she thought would keep her protected,

rather than exposed.

(28th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Less is More

A rare blessing

A loving kiss

A warm hug

A beautiful smile

(27th poem for NaPoWriMo)

She weaves her magic

She weaves her magic

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye
And up and down the people go,

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
By the island in the river

Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerily

There she weaves by night and day

A magic web with colours gay.

She has heard a whisper say,

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
Through the silent nights.

(26th poem for NaPoWriMo)

There are no foreigners, just travellers

There are no foreigners, just travellers

Carved up nation,

definitely a realisation

not a revelation, borders

lineage, edging away

keep us at bay

swimming or sinking.

Continents become countries

foreigners move freely –

some more freely than others

singing and dancing

internationally leaving their mark

as they trace and stamp their trade.

Where do you find yourself

within this vast cultural oasis?

Are you lost or are you found?

Does your ancestry;

your family tree

reveal who you really could be?

Or are you progressing nicely

Onward and upward

through the University of Life?

Do you want to swim with the dolphins?

Or Be a regular fish out of water

in a tropical fantasy land?

(25th poem for NaPoWriMo)

City Whispers

City Whispers

At this moment hundreds of travellers' feet hardly touch the ground

I know these faces, have dwelled in those places

I knew I had to visit the city

I had to taste and feel home

Even though open spaces attract me more – now

It's as if every so often

There's a need, a desire, call it a fix

To absorb the density, a familiar dynamic

And as I leave those wider landscapes

Quietly I observe sodden fields

As I sit in comfort on orange coloured train seats

The ticket collector is nowhere to be seen

I step into the familiar as I embark

The crowds haven't fully formed

So it's with ease that I don't have to wait

For a 73 bus and in 5 minutes I'm at the Angel

At this moment I recognise a collection of girls

From my old school; their uniform fails

To disguise their uniqueness and I'm

transported back to the sixties – to my love of Chapel Street's market stalls

I hardly bother with the market now,

Don't even take a look; there's no need

I'm drawn into NEXT and immediately hooked

I admire the fashion as it explodes colour and I'm warmed

I knew I had to be in the city today

To feel alive, to touch the energy once more and be seen

To linger in those places, see many diverse faces

And blend in again, to steal, to capture and then begin.

The spacious restaurant seating is selected

by the consumer in this half-full lunch time

And it is almost empty by the time I depart

Only to step opposite and discover a larger gathering

In the bar with its low almost dark shadow lighting

A variety of high and low seats

Here I feel right at home as there's room

For every kind of social experience

Women on their own watch plasma TV screens

Couples chit-chat, friends hang out,

Others are Wi-fi slaves to their laptops

A few are intensely holding on to and searching their mobile phones

There's a need to stay connected

By any means necessary

To this digital age, which

brings with it a new anxiety and individual responsibility

Glasses merge and chink, a sip of a drink

and chatter rises and dissipates

At this moment, there is a kind of new age dawning

And another day disappears with no warning.

(24th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Fear Nothing

Fear Nothing

Fear nothing, you already have

the courage to face and explore

accept and respond to fear so

fear nothing - you already have

to move beyond inertia

and discover your potential

Fear nothing, you already have

(23rd poem for NaPoWriMo)

Earth Day

Earth Day is 43 years old today

and I'm ashamed to say

it's not a day I've celebrated before

So today's a first

Let's remember 

we live on this wonderful planet -

sometimes, we just forget

as life's day-to-day distractions

get our attention instead.

(22nd poem for NaPoWriMo)

More Lines...

More Lines...

It's election time again; it's going to be a gamble either way.

It's true, labels mean nothing, but don't you fancy yourself in something Chanel?

Be caring to girls and women - this applies to other girls and women as well as boys and men.

Less really is more, so shut up and listen, oh and write everything down.

(21st poem for NaPoWriMo)

Inspired by Frank O'Hara's original poem, "Lines for the Fortune Cookies."

Dreaming of You

Dreaming of You

She was elusive - twice,

He was consistent

It could have been miraculous

Except she was rubbing salt into her wounds

As he had long been a ghost

(20th poem for NaPoWriMo)

WANTED

WANTED

Free-spirited Sun-worshipper seeks

consistent warm and/or hot weather;

at least 20 degrees Centigrade with an

occasional gentle breeze,

slightly impatient as waited far too long

for your warm glows.

(19th poem for NaPoWriMo)

When I was...

When I was...

When I was five, I learnt how to write my name in many ways and in many colours.

When I was nine, I insisted on making my own bed, my mum said, 'Go ahead.'

When I was ten, I won a Twist dancing competition and had to dance again with the winning boy!

When I was eleven, I got my first cycle and started to enjoy playing my granddad's piano.

That was also the time I became more serious about school and less serious about boys.

When I was twelve I sang in a choir performing to the public and I cried afterwards.

(18th poem for NaPoWriMo)

I can't remember

I can’t remember

Is that really me

That I see there

In my father’s arms

Way up high in the air?

I have no recollection

Of when this picture was taken

All I have is this black and white

Image to fall back on

It’s a bit of a mystery

And as I wonder who snapped the shot

I do see it’s in a public street with

The tardis style red telephone box

What am I doing in this snapshot

Of illusion and confusion

As I point at someone, something?

As my father focuses on the camera

As my father smiles casually

And my mother smiles graciously

I recognise the pose as she’s

Smiled that way many times before

She appears happy

With her hands clasped

Which I think is

A sign of contentment…

And I wonder at the mystery

Of no physical contact

Between my mother

And my father

(17th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Seven Ways of Looking at Hands

Seven Ways of Looking at Hands

I know I would be nowhere

with no hands, no lifelines to reveal

futures, life’s expressions invisible

No incredible, articulate movements.

Essential, responsible, hands matter

Men, women, children, babies

rejoice when hands hold, caress and direct an orchestra,

drive cars, buses, trains; fly helicopters and planes.

Hands – a pair with eight fingers, two thumbs

to adorn with jewels to signify status

Act as an invitation; as an exit strategy

are diamonds really a girl’s best friend?

How is it that hands are enclosed

In a 'protective' skin

So as to keep out evil

And let good in

Oh but hands can slap, punch and kill

Swear and curse with such dramatic appeal

that ‘war’ is the outcome; 

Peace the calm after the storm.

The artist, the pianist, the writer

The musician, the singer, the dancer

Would turn mad, bad and dangerous to know

Without their hands, they’d have no place to go.

Hands are perfect; each finger print unique

to keep a trace; a pattern

There is no escape

If you’ve abused their powers.

(16th poem for NaPoWriMo)

FLOWER POWER

FLOWER POWER

A single red rose

equals a romantic

story untold

a bouquet of twelve

equals a relationship

to respect, reflect, never forget

this floral gift

full of promises

with no guarantees

that will seek to

wake up your senses,

shake up your dreams

be careful though

as you trim the stems

before displaying in your best vase

be careful of those

thorns that will

unfold histories

symbols of romance;

of love and pain,

are embedded within

their beauty

will keep you hooked

into their romantic illusions

wars are lost and won

blood is shed

love is gained

(15th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Love to Dance

Love to Dance

Moving in rhythm, in time

with my spirit, body and mind

allows those senses

those important vibes freedom of expression

Music beats, all around

above my head and on the ground

soothing my soul

releasing pure energy

Space is needed, the right physical connection is crucial

preferably on an open Caribbean landscape

ideally near an ocean so the acoustics and the breeze

merge and dance with the moonlight

and the African drums’ messages are free

to travel above and underground

(14th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Dancing in the Breeze

Dancing in the Breeze

Created by a single acorn
connected deep within the earth,

reaching high, a natural skyscraper
each branch a path,
sounds of peace rustling
leaves gracefully
dancing in the breeze,
offers shady greenery
to cool our skin
shimmering or playing
hide and seek with the sun,
great to look up to
soothing to paint
today's air smells good.

(13th poem for NaPoWriMo)

CITY LIFE

CITY LIFE

Bright lights, dynamics, traffic flowing 24/7

crowds, people moving – going places – as busy as bees

seeing faces, diverse – shades of colour

Those are the kinds of landscapes

blending in; mixing well

anonymous, who can tell?

City streets, city life never ends – always begins

through time zones from rush hour

through tube tunnels

the best way to travel

is by car – in and

out of those off peak times

The city swells as millions

pound its pavements

bouncing bodies never seeing each other

and yet needing, wanting

the crowds of those nameless,

like sheep in a herd.

(12th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Snakes!

I've held a thin snake

I've held a really fat one

Surprised at the feel

as it was hard to describe

my 'fear' of snakes is long gone.

(11th poem for NaPoWriMo)

(My granddaughter Sophie chose the snake image)

SPEECHLESS

SPEECHLESS

Less is more as

the boundaries of silence

feel much better than

the battles with words

I'm doing the right thing

as violence with words

will never win.

Frustration – leads to nowhere fast

only meditation, dwelling on the past

feeling struck down with word losses

inside my emotions are rising only

to slowly descend, fall away

Thoughts circling in my head

take my mind on a journey with

no destination, no end,

no resolution as this word revolution

battles with the wind

Fights with my conscience

- gotta do the right thing.

(10th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Ocean Blues

Ocean Blues

At the bottom of the planet Earth
is Antarctica
the driest continent
with intensely cold air,
no rain, no sunshine,
except an art gallery of icebergs
with a tip for us to visualise
floating, supported by the deep ocean
beautiful and yet
full of isolation
as she hides
her majority ice mass

The moon is her one and only friend.

(9th poem for NaPoWriMo) 

Night Drive

Night Drive

Shadows of street lamps and traffic lights

Hypnotically bounce to and from

Play tricks as I drive through the night

While I indulge in jazz melodies to move my journey along

I love driving along like this

So I can naturally express myself in a song

As my destination comes into sight

I give thanks for a twilight night

(8th poem for NaPoWriMo)

I can...

I can walk, talk, run (if I have to),

I can drive in the UK, the US and the Caribbean,

I eat fish; I don't eat meat.

I meditate as often as I can

but not as much as I'd like;

its a work in progress...

I like learning, especially

when a challenge is involved

Frustration can be a sign that the barriers are tough

What does it for you?


(7th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Time to Say Good Bye

Glad to see the back of you

good riddance I say

you've more than overstayed

on this occasion and you weren't

welcome in the first place

Your repeat performances of snow attacks

may have looked tempting on the eye - from a safe distance

and you may have won over the kids

but the real issue

is that you stole some of our summer time too!


(6th poem for NaPoWriMo)

A Cinquain

Today's challenge was to write a cinquain, a poem that uses stanzas with 5 lines, each line has a certain number of stressed syllables in this order 2 - 4 - 6 - 8 - 2 (confused - I was a bit, still not sure I got this right!)

Today

I considered

the freedom of movement

when I drive from place to place - it's

immense


(5th poem for NaPoWriMo)

A Series of Unlikely Explanations

A Series of Unlikely Explanations

Summer is coming, or am I wrong?

At some point there must've been

a series of unlikely explanations

from it hasn't been this cold at Easter for fifty years

to we're just stuck in a cold zone

or under some kind of freeze spell

Whatever the weather

It needs sorting one way or another

as I can't take much more!

(4th poem for NaPoWriMo)

Ocean Waves

I crave a night on the ocean waves

with wide open landscapes above me

to feel the warm breeze gently touch my face

is all I need

And as I sail silently through the night

upon the dark, potentially deep and troubled waters

I will know and experience nature's magic

as long as the sea's rhythms soothe me in my slumber

I will always crave these

mystical moments

lying on top of the waters

so smooth one minute and rough the next

(3rd poem for NaPoWriMo)

Truth Hurts

Truth Hurts

He told me he loved me

I wondered at times

He told me "You're my Queen,"

I kept silent and thought 'In your dreams...'

And yet I went along with the fantasy -

all in my mind - and his -

telling myself it may be true on some occasions

until time passed and wisdom oozed its way in

It took some more days, weeks and months

before the safe distance came

and the truth revealed itself blatantly

when I said, "You never really loved me."

And without any hesitation

he quickly replied, "Neither did you love me."

It was the 'best' way to end our conversation,

these were the last words spoken; the love died in an instant.

(2nd poem for NaPoWriMo) 

She walks in beauty, like the night

She walks in beauty, like the night

and softly moves chasing her shadow

looking up at the moon in delight

she sits for a while, listening

to the distant noises

of slow and fast-moving traffic

and hears a familiar call

which she rejects this time

as she knows it will happen again

but on this beautiful night

there's much to be done.

(1st poem for NaPoWriMo)

First line stolen from 'She Walks in Beauty' by Lord Byron (George Gordon)