Road trip in Wales

As Amy whined
The roads wind
The sun finds
A place to rest its head

She's dead
Perhaps O'Ded
Something I've considered
Now I am breathless

The winding road
The voice souled
My heart is sold
To the rolling hills of Wales

Footnote: Composed on 19th June 2012, whilst being driven back to our holiday accommodation in Wales with the sun setting behind us and listening to Amy Winehouse

Back to Poetry and Art

Ah life has finally calmed down, well just a little
Having achieved some awesome long term goals
It's time to focus on the world around, not the next hill


It feels like my vision has cleared, out of a black hole
Back to composing poetry again
Life has been wonderful and better than feared, great for the soul

Amsterdam Night

Amsterdam Night, originally uploaded by michaelevans60.

Inspired to write this poem - trying to keep it simple, story based and with a bit of rhythm. Written in a few minutes and probably due a lot of analysis and adaptation - but until then, enjoy...

A cold evening stroll through Amsterdam:

Thin woolen gloves worn tightly are slightly inadequate
The reflecting golden lights more than make up for it
Empty back streets add an eery atmosphere
The cosy brown pubs must be where
Tourists and locals are holed up for the night
Missing, yet assisting, a peaceful shimmering sight!

Compilation from photo titles

After uploading the latest batch of photos (from Salzburg: 24-25th Oct 08) I realised that a lot of the titles had a poetic feel. So I collated them all and put them into verses. No real rhyme or reason - just a compilation of photo titles from Salzburg ...

Hazy wintery spindly sigh
Peeping through the trees
For a sweet kiss goodnigh’
Casting a quiet silhouette
A dove-like cloud
Dances in the sunset

Stepping out of the shadows, into the light
So much to take in, too stunned to blink.
A soulful sigh rose to the sky

Seeking answers from above
The fog rises ....briefly
Glowing with the beauty of love
Accepting the accolades accordingly

Sunlight dances in his wake
Sparkling brilliance
Bursting with joyfulness
Brimming with a particular essence
Reflecting in the stillness

Train to Graz

The mist dances on the roof tops [POEM], originally uploaded by retrotravelbug.

Went to Salzburg for the weekend and our flight got cancelled on the Sunday night so we were given seats on a flight leaving Graz the following afternoon. Involved a five hour train journey. Took in the scenery and composed this poem....

The rocky white mountains rise high
Merging with the barely discernable clear morning sky
Lean wispy trees cling in clumps to the cliff’s edge
In a marvellous tirade of golden and auburn foliage
A wide river slivers below with a snake like charm
Its icy blue surface presents a false calm
Puffs of mist dance by, gently kissing the tops of wooden chalets
Then it hugs us, completely smothers us, in a thin grey embrace

I heart NYC

4th - 11th October 2008 - holiday to New York. Spent an afternoon in Central Park and composed a poem of observations.

Challenged myself to stick to a formula with each verse (so each has four lines, the first line of each has got 15 syllables, the next with 17, the third with a different rhyme and 5 syllables and the last with 11 syllables). No reason to this pattern, other than it seemed to flow nicely.

Selection of photos are in USA set in Flickr


Is it really possible to fall in love with a city?
I ponder this, lying in the patchy shade of a Central Park tree.
Time stands still … until
The cool shade of the next tree envelops me.

Skyscrapers reflect each other’s architectural beauty
Promises of dreams come true, assured by the Statue of Liberty
Sights evolve … dissolve
Iconic images, locked in memory

Squirrels rummage freely, acting all cute and ‘squirrely’
Couples stroll by, holding hands or sit down together all ‘coupley’
Smells are clean and green
No pong or blaring hype of Abercrombie

The Apple store - a favourite hang out - use the net for free
A recession darling? 5th Avenue will always have Tiffany’s!
Sounds cascade … then fade,
A horse drawn carriage passes occasionally

Joggers everywhere - no real surprise, food portions are scary
Gastronomic indulgence … pretzels, hotdogs and eggs over easy
Savour the flavours
Then just walk a block for a Starbucks ‘kworfee’

Here I escape from the traffic hum, the deep honks of taxis
The saxophonist in the tunnel repeats amateur melodies
Brief cadence … silence
Then a cheeky siren whoops … NYPD!

Homeless Willie J made me smile, selling his peace poetry
Better sales pitch than the almost-famous artist selling CDs
Should I care? or fear
For those begging, proudly, for sympathy?

What a place, where you can dream to do anything or just ‘be’
Where the rich and poor, bizarre and bewildered live in odd harmony
All one crazy haze
My senses have been stimulated, completely

This is the city that never sleeps, in the land of the free
Except, perhaps, under the cool patchy shade of a Central Park Tree
I heart NYC

Opposites attract

I came across this photo 'Opposites' by Miss Insomnia Tulip on Flickr. It made me think of recent discussions I've been having with quite a few friends who are trying to make the most of or have made the tough decision to leave long term relationships. A common theme is a feeling of being the complete opposite to their partner or that their partner doesn't really 'get them'.

This poem is about the human desire to find harmony, love and acceptance ...














I look at you, I look at me
You shine in sweet shy modesty
I look for fun and anarchy
Shielding a vast complexity
We share a charming fragility
You are you but I am me
Somewhere there is similarity
Highlighted within our duality
A shared desire, a delicate destiny
I want to be, to just be me
For you to love my individuality
Longing for you to totally get me
For us to share that perfect harmony
A product of heaven’s alchemy

CHOICES MADE ...

CHOICES MADE, originally uploaded by wildcardpoet.

I had been mulling on lines for the following poem, marking a particular anniversary, then I came across this photo by Bill Cross which just brought it all together for me ...

A delicate web of choices made
Clings to memories that may never fade
A brave heart, strong soul, can still gently ache
An infantile hook clings to the pit of my stomach
But I no longer rage blame and release responsibility
Instead I feel blessed and strengthened by destiny
Attempting to say YES to life, on occasion precariously
But freely pursuing the art of love seriously
The past can be changed with a different perception
I sigh a soft smile and salute it with affection

Don't watch porn...

I had uploaded some photos of stencil graffiti I had come across in the Baltics. There were three pictures which I purposely put together in a row. That of a cartoon character with a ball & chain, then a couple embracing and then a slogan "don't watch porn, use your imagination".

Andrew McConnochie then took the challenge of layering the couple and the slogan to create a new piece of work. This then inspired me to write the following poem in response ... this is another one done spontaneously and completed within 5 minutes (not sure if this is a good thing or not, should I be musing over and editing the poems more??) ...















When you think of porn, you may scorn
Why waste your time on something so forlorn
But an impassioned embrace can bring grace
To even the dullest grey concrete face
I suppose if you really need some inspiration
Then porn could possibly help the imagination
But tantalising the tips with a light touch of existence
Will give more than any pornographic experience....

Robin

This photo is by Neil (chimpdachimp2000). He captures birds briliantly! In the description he said he'd taken this a year ago in last spring. This was my immediate response ...

Perched ... awaiting the passing of time
Delicate feathers gathered so sublime
A perfect resting place, a stump having met its fate
Yet the potential for a new branch to take its place
A year from now I won't even be a shadow
Just a gentle memory of the sun's soft glow
Cutting across the sky, swooping in for spring
Robin of Sherwood will always be king