Poetry Forum

He stood with drink in hand, leaning on the hand rail. In front of him was the city in all it's glory. A smog filled mass of back streets and warm stone courtyards. where old women wash their clothes in open rooms and husbands sit in doorways watching the world revolve around their heads. Jake, took...

Thanks Cameron, this is my one and only attempt at a sonnet, 'Well it was worth a try!'

Greenman....

Hi,
As someone, who has seen someone jump from a railway bridge. I can see where you are coming from in this short poem. Short and to the point, it be lost if the poem was any longer.

Greenman....

I like the flow of this poem and the contructive use of words, which helps it along. Nice poem.

Greenman....

Dead Reckoning She stood like dead reckoning on a promise, with legs that raise right up to a smile. This aurora of the light fantastic. High heeled with high stakes, high hopes on a higher plain. Wishing to grace this place with her essence. Wild at heart, untamed by life’s gentle blows, punch dru...

The Hill In front of me, the hill* lies open like a poet’s notebook. Devoid of writing, awaiting the words of inspiration. While morning mists obscure the view, like my mind trying to push back the voice of my own consciousness. What was familiar, is now without form or function. All that was unfam...

Summers Morning Push back the veils of the night, Open the shutters on the day, Let the morn be bathed with light, Ablaze with the sun’s healing ray: Across this land the birds rejoice, To see the coming of the sun, With hearts and souls in joyful voice, At the night’s bondage now undone: And with ...

Long goodbyes on summer afternoons Linger like wet circles on a bar room table, Warm and sticky, like sweet lip gloss. Eyes gazy dreamly into eyes dark with Inner love, as gentle touch of finger drifts Across bare skin brown with summer sun. Slow touch is loss as gentle embrace drifts Apart on a sea...

NOTE: This has been posted before- but i'd like to resubmit it here. The Fire Escape From here, I sit looking Down on a world of Late summer trees and burnished Windows. A dormered world between worlds, Where Angels sleep amid a myriad Of dying leave and coal-stained Chimneys. From here, I can see ...

Thanks both of you for the comments, I should stop cutting and pasting my poems. Its not helping my dyslexia none. True 'edd' should have read 'ebb' which has been changed. This is sadly part of dyslexia (word blindness), I can read a poem ten time etc and still not notice it should be b's not d's! ...

Ever-changing skies, Above an ever-changing Landscape Of swelling downlands And woodland paths. Never still, but always Moving in a secular, yet Comforting fashion, Drifting as if afloat upon A sea of summer leaves. Above, swallows swim Amid the skies, Like a shoal of Flying Fish Feeding on an ever-...

(I etch my name in the sand just a word nothing more
waiting for the salty sway to wash it away, Does the
tide ever tire? )

"I like these lines"

I do feel the poem is a little heavy in the middle. Apart from that I like the poem.

Greenman..

Excellent poem, "what can one say more?"

Greenman..

Dancing amid a million ebbing points
of light.
The day drifts across the eventide,
In slow fluid motion.
Setting ablaze the sky,
With the unseen hands of May.

Greenman.
http://uk.geocities.com/greenford_magna/

I know that the poet Patience Strong is not to everyones taste. But she still has a unique relationship with her readers. Which was forged out over a 40 year period. Patience wrote about every aspect of the human condition. Using simple homely words that touch the heart and sustain in times of great...

Greenman, I liked and disliked the same things in this poem...The contrasts. There were several good ones, but too many for my liking. Look forward to seeing more of your stuff. --Keith. Keith, the poem was written in 10 minutes, which is amazing for me as most of my poems take days to write. Which...

She stood like dead reckoning on a promise. With legs that raise right up to a smile, This aurora of light fantastic. High healed with high stakes, High hopes on a higher plain, Wishing to grace this place with her Essence. Wild at heart, untamed by life’s gentle blows, Punch drunk and spinning slow...

I have known of this book for years but, had not got around to reading it until recently, when I came across a copy in my local Oxfam Book shop. The copy I have is a 1951 dog-eared hard-back book with drawings by Sir Peter Scott. I went on to read this short story in one go as it was only 50 or so p...

Andrew Motion is hosting a weekly poetry half hour programme on Sunday afternoons till May for full details check out this link; http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/arts/mapportal.shtml The programmes are entitled 'A Map of British Poetry' and will last for the next 12 weeks as of last Sunday. Last weeks pr...

Hi Andy, Reminds me a bit of Keith Douglas' great WW2 poem Vergissmeinnicht C Cameron, I have just read Keith Douglas poem 'Vergissmeinnicht' and yes I can see where you are coming from. Thanks for the comment, sadly I'm not in that poets league. POETS NOTE: A copy of my poem is at present held on ...

Sea Spray and bullets D - Day Plus Sixty (years) Lines written to commemorate the 60th Anniversary of the D - Day Landings 6th June 1944. "Were nearing the beach" I heard him cry. As sea spray and bullets stung the sky. "Keep your rifles up and your heads down", "Keep close ...

By strange coincidence, I happen to live in Norfolk. Yes, the North Norfolk coast is a wonderful place: Holkham (where the beach scene from 'Shakespeare in Love' was filmed), Salthouse, Brancaster, Thornham etc. One of my own poems 'Ornithologist' (see web site) is set at Cley where I used to go bi...

It seems everwhere you go these days you come across coach loads of visitors with camcorders suck to their faces. Hardy's Dorset is like this, any day across the summer months. This is why I don't visit these place anymore. Instead I head off like you in search of peace and quiet. One of the places ...

blueknight wrote:I like this poem very much, it seemed to play to me lyrically like the 'Kinks' 'Waterloo Sunset'.

Every day I look at the world from my window
But chilly, chilly is the evening time
Waterloo sunset’s fine

Yes I can see where you are coming from ,thanks.

Greenman
Middlesex, Uk.

Who is Sylvia Lynd? I think the quotation from Psalms that you have at the end would make a better epigraph. Jim, Sylvia Lynd was a lesser known poet and story writer who was born in 1888 and died in 1952. Her poetry is based on nature and is well worth hunting out. Also thanks for the replacement o...