It was only a moment ago the skies spoke to you the possibilities wider and deeper than a young mind could conceive Then, as if to ruin the show came the treadmill of responsibilities now a raging river to erode all that you did believe Do you see it standing there? A black doorway in peripheral vision a slow beckoning of danger, awesome and ajar! Will it lead to a new life somewhere and are you ready for this decision? Where else to go once you’ve already come this far?
Inspired by a part of this article in The London Review of Books called Gloves on by Anne Carson, discussing dealing with Parkinson’s.
The word is a reckoning So roll up your sleeves Bring order to the turmoil Your monologue believes Codify your weary soul Give fire to your blues Step up towards your God Confront him with your news
Inspired and paraphrased (as ever) from the Red Hand Files #297 10th Sep 2025 – Shared with Poets and Storytellers United – something good
When did the heart harden? Turned to stone, dark and rough Too tough to beg pardon Too much no longer enough The buzzing bees have built Wide walls to the castle No more red wine spilt The parts no longer a parcel And so the keep is locked The key swallowed by a raven Flown far from the flocked To maintain the inner haven
Silhouettes In purpled passion Freedom calls Life’s tangle Left far behind, flown away Branches now laid bare
Shared with Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Tangle and Tanka Tuesday – Shadorma
I have the words within my pages My knowledge forms your future texts Amassed wisdom sung from many sages Collected comforts to which all connects This power I pass for you to share The lessons lived easily explain To conquer chaos and choose to care To shrink in size or grow to gain Your personal action accumulates Eyes sparkle like dancing diamonds Mixing the messes of made mistakes Form the future from many islands
Shared with What Do You See #263 and submitted to an AllPoetry assignment about alliteration.
Time out of mind, the rock of ages The time of our lives was to be had Foretold on ageing faded pages Three heads good, foreheads bad Sands a-trickle made to measure Losing track as the dawn is cracking Always racing towards some leisure Begged and borrowed to be slacking It’s up, beyond a blue moon hiding To weave a future, past and pleasant Dropped stitches will do their biding When Nick manifests in the present
Shared with No Theme Thursday picture prompt (above) and Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Foretelling
Sat in cafe corners Quietly going out of their minds A complete picture of confusion It’s the illusion that blinds The last page read Of Notes From Underground Dragged down into the illusion A confusion so profound Mother Nature ripped them off Consigned to just a minor part Boredom won out after all The fall came before the start The ‘almost-was’ That in cafe corners hides Couldn’t pick a side to fall After all, shot by both sides
Inspired by and paraphrased from Howard Devoto, reading about him in Rip It Up and Start Again
People will demand freedom of speech as compensation For the freedom of their thought that remains in suspension Disparity between desire for outward expression And the actual practice of inner contemplation
A little poem based on the Soren Kierkegaard quote “People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use.”
Showed my buds, I’m one of them When they watched me stick it in I bring freedom with a gun And I’m responsible for no one We three, prod and poking Watching the sunset paradise Sipping dry martinis of tears Laughing at a 12-year-old’s fears We three, the seventy per cent Paid us for our duty A dividing line, a locked gate Allows us to rob and rape Watch again as I stick it in We’re bonding over this flesh This little girl, powerless in pain Coerced to let the gang remain
After reading about the 1995 gang rape of a 12-year-old girl by three US soldiers in Okinawa.
Fatman report
Lined up against the wall Identified with your tribe Where does the mindset shift From the rules that you prescribe? This game isn’t easy Yet played out every day All uniquely similar In deeds and words we say Incited to live in fear Lies are told as true Only some allowed to win But tell that you can too A race to become less tolerant Can be run in any way seen fit Upend the board and strut around Covering everything in shit
Inspired by this great post at The Renegade Press
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