Rather Than Twiddle Your Thumbs, Write A Poem...


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Laughter Lines

The delicacy and innocence
Of a child
Softens the edges of a hardened mind
Let's grace play upon laughter lines
leaves preoccupations far behind
With levity and wild notions of playtime
a self awareness that has no right
To manifest itself in an infants eyes

joy and comedy, one liners surreal set pieces
Abstractions made up language make the world so much
less serious
At the same time the stakes are higher, more precious, fragile and beautiful
It swells like a wave, a rush of blood through the veins, bursting out from
Under the rib cage, no inhibitions or contrition, skin to skin,
Cheek to cheek dribble on the chin
It's better out than in

Sent from my iPad

Studio Tan

Well-Known Forumite
Apparently it's National Poetry Day today (8th October 2015)
Here's my contribution (Similarity to any person living or dead is purely coincidental - NOT !)

The Boss

You’re obsequious to clients who have perfume that lingers
Then you touch up the factory girls with your fat sausage fingers.
I caught you having sex in the room at the back
But it's ‘Better keep quiet if you don’t want the sack’

You were bawling me out for overspending mere pence
While you’re screwing whores at the company’s expense.
Light bulbs and toilet rolls are all I can diddle
But it’s contracts and materials when you’re on the fiddle.

Your picture’s in the paper holding a cheque for the poor
Except you’d rather run them over in your four-by-four.
Why do you sail on oblivious and devoid of humour
When my dad - decent chap - died of a tumour.

Now retired to Spain I can’t believe that you’ve lasted
I’ll be glad when you’re dead you obnoxious old bastard.


Well-Known Forumite
There are cracks,
See them all.
When they break,
I will fall.

Will someone catch me?
Is anyone there?
Will anyone notice?
Show they care?

But no one knows,
I'm good at concealing.
All the cracks,
That I am feeling.

I'll be right here,
Because you need me.
Strong and tough,
Just like you see me.

But, there are cracks,
I feel them all.
When they break
I will fall.


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Looking Back

Twenty years have passed -
My life is not
What I saw it to be
Those years ago.

Once I was what I thought I could be -
My life is not
What I thought it would be
Those years ago.

Time has tried us -
Our life is not
What we hoped it would be
Those years ago.

I love you more than I thought I could do -
Our life is not
What we might have wanted
Those years ago.

All those years ago are with us -
Our life is not a thing without them
What I want now more than ever
Is years ahead.


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It's three am
insomnia again

the spare room
like a new broom

that sweeps and cleans
my thoughts and dreams

Beckons me


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Living in a ast ream]eed macj[hine im

Yes no there-s what we call About it

String = truth + beauty is divided by

Where beauty = truth

There really is beauty.


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I don't consider myself very poetical, but I'll give it a go.

I've been dreaming a lot lately, and for the life of me I can't make head nor tail of many of these dreams. It's a mystery. But I'm sure there's some reason behind them, I have to believe that as it's the way I was trained.

So walking around Tamar Lake this morning under a fine sunny Autumn sky I came up with this:


How I wish that I understood dreams
An alternative world, so it seems
With no physical laws,
Where effect precedes cause
And chaos rides out on Moonbeams.

The familiar places are there,
But in shadows, stark, truly bare.
Though I know where to go,
On arriving, not so !
As the streets that I knew, just don't care.

There's the dream of the long endless quest,
Where you search for an age, without rest.
There's no target in sight,
Just a landscape of blight.
Could it be just some infinite jest ?

There's the dream that has laughter and fear,
And joy mixed with danger, always near.
Filled with sunshine and light
Or a dark shriek filled night
The meaning of both never clear.

And then you awake with a cry,
As some darkness cracked open the sky
As you lay back in bed,
Glad you're not dead
You wonder: 'What was that ? ... and why ?'


Well-Known Forumite
We won

You lost us when
You talked like
We were
Nothing to you

And we were


We were never nothing

We were always more
than you had bargained for

And you lost us
And then you lost

And we won


Well-Known Forumite
snoring boring
wake-up cake up
get tat get rat
is it? bin it
forum bor'um
etc detector


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"This isn't ideology,
It's certainly not philosophy,
It's not even
an idea that requires your curiosity -

It's simply greed wrapped up in need..."

^ Really enjoyed that - feel you have found just the right 'form' for your voice.

Cheers - appreciated, first visit here since I posted that


Well-Known Forumite

Choosing love

Commitment and children.

To be busy

Means something else entirely,

Feet not touching the floor

Doesn’t come close

To the whirlwind

That consumes all you once were.

Letting go

Of selves

Of the self

Of the idea that the someone at the centre is you.

Surrender to something else

Larger than can be described

Bursting from the ribs.

No chance of control

A lifetime of protecting,

Purpose is born.

Tears well at the most trivial of sentiments,

And the deep.

Intangibly whole.

The only place to climb,

Is higher.