Tag: Poetry

Anonymously Happy

Do you think

It helps

He said

Writing these wry

Little observations

Well, I would 

Rather that

She said

Than suffer

Endless conversations

2

‘4 Real’

My poems are not

Very nice

Particularly warm,

Or fuzzy

But they do resonate

With those desolate

And who prefer their words

Bloody

4

An Audience Of One

I write a bit

Now you know

Nothing special

Or much to show

But just enough

To get me though

And show how much

I still miss you

0

Oh, Please

Forgive my hyperbolic phrase

He said

‘Tis the burden of the poet

You’re just a pretentious cunt

She said

And don’t I fucking know it

4

Twelve Days And Counting…

As the end

Draws ever near

I have to say

I’m feeling the fear

What will I do

If I don’t write

What will I do

With all this spite?

Pens Down

Nothing lasts

Forever

You know

Not you

Not me

And certainly not my poetry

(Originally Posted 17.02.2021)

6

My Life’s Work

At least you

Can look away

When the misery

Ensues

But these aren’t just

Words to me

They are actually

My issues

Well, You Asked…

Although
I find
your
writing
talent
genuinely
quite
considerable

Reading
your
words
over
again
really
does just
make me
miserable

(Originally Posted 28.01.2020)

2

Self Soothing

As much as I love

That you read my words

And you praise them

Like you do

You have to know

As I deliver each blow

That I write more for me

Than you

Hecklers

Has
anyone
ever
told
you to
stop

He
said

With
these
bullshit
rhymes
you
spew

Oh
many,
many
times

She
said

And
I told
them
to piss
off
too

(Originally Posted 27.01.2021)

8

En Garde

I don’t often achieve perfection

But I think this is pretty much it

A healthy dose

Of what I feel the most

With just a little rapier-like wit

The Queen Bee

Oh, I’ll point many a finger

In order to right these wrongs

But for her I’ll reserve

The most passion and verve

And the sharpest of razor like tongues

(Originally Posted 26.01.2021)

7

The Flow

Most days the process is simple

Words flow as easy as the pain

But I feel so numb at times

That when it comes to rhymes

I doubt they will ever flow again

The Writer’s Anguish

I don’t
think
I have
anything
to say

Today

Perhaps
there
will be
more
sorrow

Tomorrow

So
I will
wait to
pick up
my pen

Then

For
I fear
I wouldn’t
even
know how

Now

(Originally Posted 25.01.2020)

2

Gruesome

I’m a little surprised

I wrote this

As it’s quite lyrical

For me

That is, of course,

If you ignore

The creepy imagery

How Long Has It Been Now?

From this cold embittered heart

I just cannot be prised apart

Like a leech feasting on a wound

Oh, is there any hope for me

From the past to be set free

And to love again become more attuned?

🖤

(Originally Posted 17.01.2021)

4

(Maybe) Coming Soon

Having mulled this idea over

To a ridiculous degree

I have decided I will

A book of poetry fill

In twenty twenty three

To Publish Or Not To Publish…

You really are quite brilliant

They said

Perhaps you should write a book

I doubt anyone would buy it

She said

Knowing my fucking luck

(Originally Posted 16.01.2021)

13

Random #272

‘For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack’

– Rudyard Kipling

2

Random #269

There was a naughty boy
And a naughty boy was he,
He ran away to Scotland
The people for to see–
Then he found
That the ground
Was as hard,
That a yard
Was as long,
That a song
Was as merry,
That a cherry
Was as red–
That lead
Was as weighty,
That fourscore
Was as eighty,
That a door
Was as wooden
As in England–
So he stood in his shoes
And he wondered,
He wondered,
He stood in his shoes
And he wondered.

4

Random #268

Shaking cream on Christmas Day while listening to Mary of the Fourth Form by the Boomtown Rats

Playing record
my Christmas present
shaking cream
after turkey treat,
lid open, cream spills,
Dad’s jacket ruined
Dad’s temper flares
record broken
Terrible Christmas.

Dad’s Version

Turn music down
Awful hangover
Sean shake cream
I’m starving
What happened?
You’re sorry!
Jacket ruined
My Christmas present
That’ll teach you.
Terrible Christmas.

– Sean Hughes

0

Random #263

“Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of
weeping than you can
understand.”

– W. B Yeats

2

Three Months Left

I cannot continue forever

In fact I’m nearly spent

But there will always others

Who will use this place to vent

‘Want’

An artist for the ages

Your words leave me floored

What else is there to say?

Other than please, give me more

(Originally Posted 25.10.2020)

11

Random #255

“The darkened space of The King’s Head downstairs room. Tuesday nights are set aside for poetry.

Every week they discussed the purpose of poetry in modern society, and every week they came to the same conclusion.

That poetry is enlightenment.

It’s questioning the norm, to try to find an understanding, to push forward ideas, to discover half truths, to open a forum for debate, to bring people together.”

– Sean Hughes

0

Random #251

“and we didn’t love each other
but we helped each other forget
that life is shit”

– Sean Hughes

0

Waiting For Roadside Assistance

I’m not usually very good

With metaphors

But this one is pretty neat

Then I guess it would be

As it was conceived

While in the back seat of a Mini

Car Trouble

Nothing makes this better

Everything makes it worse

A body straining in first gear

But a mind stuck in reverse

(Originally Posted 28.09.2019)

2

Random #241

“Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.”

– Oscar Wilde

0

Dull As Dishwater

It matters not

How I seem

Through these words

I’ve penned

For if we were to ever

Meet in person

You’d be disappointed

In the end

Telling Tales

Why don’t you
stay here
a while,
he said,
and have
a cup
of tea

But I don’t
understand,
she said,
why would
you want
to talk
to me?

You’ve got
a tale to
tell, he said,
and I’d
like to
find out
more

Well you’ll
be sad
to realise,
she said,
that I’m
nothing
but a bore

(Originally Posted 04.09.2019)

14

Instant Gratification

It may well surprise you to know

I write most poems in under a minute

Especially each one of those

With a shitload of swear words in it

Catharsis

I
really
only
write
the
words

That
everyone
else is
thinking

I
just
say
what
comes
naturally

And
without
even
flinching

(Originally Posted 03.08.2020)

14

Spot On

Sometimes

When you’re trying to rhyme

You hit on something

Quite profound

I’m pretty sure

This was one of those

Where I cracked it

First time ’round

(Prick)ly

Not
the
best
at
being
loved

But
pretty
good
at
loving

Not
the
best
at
being
pushed

But
pretty
good
at
shoving

(Originally Posted 16.07.2020)

7

Regraded

I think I was once preoccupied

With being considered a ‘proper poet’

But I’ve since come to realise

That my style doesn’t trivialise

Life or how I choose to show it

Bottom Of The Class

I
scroll
through
your words

And
realise
mine don’t
compare

For
you all
write so
beautifully

Whereas
I splurge
without
a care

(Originally Posted 14.06.2020)

22

I Tried My Best

To
patch
it up

But
alas
it seems

I was
out of
luck

The Life Raft

Full
of
holes

As
it
rocks

Against
the
shoals

(Originally Posted 04.06.2020)

5

Rhyme 101

I was obviously aiming

For something highbrow

Yet I fear this one

Misses the mark somehow

I’ve gotten better, I hope,

And developed this skill

So these words I can now

Consign to landfill

Underground

As
sinister
shadows
loom,
I
see
my
tomb.

Through
the
gloom,
my
dreams
resume.

(Originally Posted 20.05.2019)

2

God, I’m Good

Nearly two and a half

Thousand posts

And yet I can still

Surprise myself

Perhaps poetry

Is my future, actually,

So I shouldn’t just leave it

On the shelf

Circling

Like
vultures

Eyeing up
the bones

Of those who
went before us

Now rotting
on the stones

(Originally Posted 14.05.2020)

20

Saying So Myself

Perhaps

I’m not so bad

At this poetry lark

After all

Interlude

Time has dragged on today

Even more than most

It started off quite well too

Sitting down with tea and toast

But then the clock seemed to stop

At some point this afternoon

When opening up my laptop

Did nothing to lift the gloom

And as the evening drew itself in

I have sat here all alone

Thouroughly bored in my own skin

Barely stifling a groan

So now I guess I’ll go to bed

And lie there on my own

Until the clock stops in my head

And I dream in monochrome

(Originally Posted 20.04.2020)

11

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