Anyone can write poetry

[Editor]

Welcome to the leading forum for local poets. I think we all have some poetry in us. Post some of your own efforts here and share them with users of this site. I'll publish at least one a week in Berrow's Worcester News, the free newspaper distributed to more than 48,000 addresses in the Worcester area every week.

[jdw]

Good tips on poem-writing here: www.teenlit.com/workshop/poetips.htm

[Neil]

THE BROWNIES ON PANCAKE DAY

The Brownies with sense
Kept their wrist tense
And flicked the pan so the pancake flew up
Just a little.

They took their pancakes home
And made their parents proud.

The others threw away sense with their pancakes
And even with ladders and rakes
Could not rescue them from the ceiling

Where they became discs of mold
And reminders to little girls
Not to be bold.


(Neil Laurenson, Rainbow Hill, Worcester)

[HCD]

Branksome Dene Chine Revisited

Telescopic sights rolled
back thirty years
me crouching spade
in hand digging
boat or otherwise a moat

cappuccino-filled pool;
Once brought here
now the child-bringer
Memories dew-freshened
Rather than crashed
by breakers

HCD 2005

[HCD]

Out of the Strong, Something Sweet

Resolute vigour expressed your fifty years,
The fastest shorthand in the West,
Worcester’s fleet-footed sprinter, yet
Suitcased success to give your children life.

You my close call when illness crouching near,
Coddled my childhood in sleeping-bag safety,
Engendered priceless values, fostered diligence,
Sacrificed pre-eminence but not your personality.

Mum, you gave yourself away
And I am reaping the rewards with thanks;
Two decades slipped, still miss you here,
Sweet strength an ever-ripening inspiration.

HCD 2001

[Gavin Paul Carter]

Lara’s Life Light

Far away a distant memory
Is lost within her eyes
And gazing into nothingness
She stares through darkened skies.

Lara’s vision sought to find that place
Where teardrops drowned her mournful face
Lara’s skin had lost its youthful glow
Her soul a ghost and we must know
That without his touch she died inside
And without his love I will confide
That flesh and bone are nothing more
Without a heart on which to draw

[Gavin Paul Carter]

Simplistic Imagery

The window framed a picture
Which often changed each day
Patterned by the seasons
Beneath skies of blue and grey
Watercolour raindrops
Arced and rolled on glass
Tumbling down in dewdrops
Forming patterns on the grass
Tree branches formed by brush stroke
Leaves wrapped intertwined
Confined in many colours
Rainbows prism in my mind
I looked beyond the window
Where time had held her breath
And welcomed in each new day
Whilst the old ones died their death


Rainbow Butterfly

Spirits of the meadows

Spirits of the meadows are dancing through the trees
Romancing fields of buttercups and blowing falling leaves
Reaching for the heavens drawing light down from the sun
Soaring through the shadows now the new dawn has begun
Flowing in the fountains they sweep down tumbling streams
Rolling through the mountain valleys planting natures seeds
White beads upon a snowdrop enchanting in the rain
Soak the silken spiders webs where the spinners have domain
Naked in a forest beneath a giant oak
Covered in a cloak of flowers the milk white maiden woke

Butterflies descended like blossoms on the wind
Tumbling down to rest upon her delicate crystal skin
Whereupon her naked figure like dew fall from the sky
There rested many sun beamed colours of the Rainbow Butterfly
All silky in their splendour all colours they did glow
And rendered her into a sleep that lovers only know
As she lay so still her ruby lips did slowly part
And her pale white tender skin did breathe through burning heart
Yearning for the kiss of a lover she once knew
Praying for his loving touch in hope that dreams come true
Streams of perspiration upon her body swept
And beads like broken diamonds upon her forehead wept
And tumbled slowly down in a waterfall of tears
As she remembered torrid memories of passion through the years.

The spirits of the meadows are dancing through the trees
Romancing hearts and buttercups and caressing falling leaves
Pouring raindrops from the heavens drawing rainbows in the sun
Soaring through the meadows now the new dawn has begun.



The Ginn

She was not cheap that pretty girl
Her dark hair hanging in a twisted curl
Eyes as black as winter shades
No summer in this heart that fades
From decent dreams of love not lies
To fickle thoughts that binds and ties
A heart within a web of pain
And at that root a secret shame

Forgotten not the time that past
Shared love is lost and did not last
For depths in shallows cannot be
And guilt inside we cannot see
To hideaway within the mind
Is a place where poisons we will find

A curse is given and blessed in hell
Where passions grow and lies we tell
Twisted by the devil’s tongue
We sing of love but the song is sung
Words that hang on painted lips
Fall in falsehoods and in quips
That only fools would blind believe
When a heart is worn upon a sleeve

A siren’s song echoed in the night
A beaming smile, a burning light
But no heart did beat beneath the breast
And only poisoned love infest
The soul of one who lived and died
For that honest love that grew inside.



The Deceiver

Dark haired ginn
The great deceiver
Only a fool would blind believe her
Leaching desire
Cold eyes of dark fire
She’s haunted by weakness
That adds to her bleakness
Faithless and callous
A heart filled with malice
A thief and a liar
With shallow desire
Spun webs like a spider
So you could not deride her
A trickster a victim
A lady of dark sin
A hidden agenda
Do not defend her…



Time

There is something graceful about old age,
The lines that valley through the skin
When a cheerful grin is formed
Like the turning of a page
You will see the image change
With every passing year,
Something forms that does endear
A natural beauty is enhanced
But not always glanced above the surface
But deep below
An inner glow
That burns and yearns for its release
As the old become content, so tranquil and at peace
They request respect an honour they deserve
And as the younger generation that right we must observe
For one day soon, every one will take their place,
Share the natural grace of age,
While they close the book
We will turn the page.



Night Chills

I always seem to cry at night
For between the covers upon my bed
I like to hide myself away
And as the dark outside lays out its twilight grey
I pray that my mind will let me rest
But memories do infest my mind with a dozen crumbled faces
Those who have passed away have found the peace that life replaces
But I myself can never find such peace
For my past is riddled with regret and strife that makes me want to cease
For why do people have to die?
A child so young, a loved one or a brother
All we can do is cry as death it always claims another
And when my eyes have finally stopped the tears
My tired grip it slowly disappears
And into dreams I gladly slip and fall
Where within God’s world I have stood amongst the dead
For like my own soul they are free inside my head
When the dawn chorus of the early bird
Is heard in gentle song
I will sadly wake
For I know I cannot belong within this other realm
Because like all the others we have to wait
Until death it reaches out its hand and leads us through the gate



Last Days

Dark was the world beneath her eyelids
Or at least to us that’s how it seemed
As her mind became a vacuum whilst she dreamed
Old times became the lady’s only friend
Remembered places crumbled incomplete
Where she wandered in her thoughts
On stronger youthful feet
Forgotten childhood memories
Drowned away the tears
Took her back to look upon
All her yesteryears
Each day appeared in colour
A transparent hazed display
White light lit the shadows
Shone through the shades of grey
Waiting in dead silence
We counted every tired breath
Reaching out with trembling hands
She seemed to welcome death



Who is God?

Who is this God?
This God of Creation?
A God of great wonder?
A God of elation?
A being so mighty
So boundless in sight?
A God beyond darkness
That brings us all light?
Born in each heart
Contained in each mind
God’s truth in the darkness
Is what we will find
Seeking and searching
Will deepen the soul
And open God’s pathway
To fulfil every goal.
Blessings upon us,
When we reach for God’s love
And the stars are God’s beacons
That shine from above
To mark out God’s Heaven
And guide our true fate
To open up Heaven
And pass through the gate,
That leads to the Rapture
That we should all know
Where the warmth of God’s kindness
And blessings bestow.
Reborn in white light
Each soul will renew
And learn that God’s guidance
Has guided you through.



The Sands of All Time

The days of our lives can be long and drawn
A summer’s warm light or a winter’s cold dawn
A comforting breeze or a falling dead leaf
A love that is long or a love that is brief
A shadow of autumn or a shrivelling flower
A glorious sunrise that gives love its power

The passage of time withers our skin
And the soul in itself may cower within
Time long forgotten is time lost in itself
Love is life’s value not the coinage of wealth
The quest of a soul is to find a true mind
Reach out the heart to where it’s confined
Entwine in the memory and to cherish above
Rise in the heavens and shine in true love


Dying alone and forgotten by love
As the clouds and the darkness descend from above
The shadows of winter fall with the mist
I forget the warm feeling of the lips I have kissed
The darkness is calling and winter draws in
And the falling of leaves in the night does begin
The fading of memory and hopes of the past
Are lost in sad whispers, last breaths for the past

Alone in the darkness extending my hand
As the world duly withers and tumbles like sand
With cracks in my fingers I breathe my last breath
And the sands of all time will crumble in death.



Truth

Beyond the external human flesh
Our skin that twists us in its mesh
The light of life beyond its birth
Will release each mind from confining earth
In stars that shine through celestial fire
Burns each mind that does desire
The freedom in God’s blinding light
To free the soul from darkened night
Of human blindness, lack of thought
To seek the place each soul has sought
By crossing time and endless space
We find the heart and kiss the face
Of a god who lurks beyond our dreams
Of man’s great ventures and extremes
In its time it draws us in
And through God’s grace our lives begin
As each mind is merged together
And breaks the link that earthly tether
We learn the truth and find our place
Far beyond the shadow of the human race
Within the minds of the eternal being
Through knowing eyes that are all seeing
Our destiny is to be as one
To shine as heavenly as our sun



The Long Walk

She walked in silent waking breath
Hid each thought of passing death
Of veils and shrouds like cloaking night
That hid this child from ancient sight
And passing through the tombs of old
Where life through bone their stories told
Of centuries past, old lives worn through
As history claimed all those she knew
A child she was, and blessed by youth
No shadows thrown could hide that truth
Amidst granite pillars of crumbled stone
Faded inscriptions of words unknown
She thought of faces long forgot
Lost loved ones left inside to rot
And passed dead flowers wilting there
Their broken stems to show they care
All had passed, in time and gone
Beneath a sun that always shone
This made her feel at ease with life
As she passed two sleepers, a man and wife
For lives are lived and some are short
All lives are ended with poignant thought
The journey made is a new endeavour
Blessed by our God who lives forever.

[Gavin Paul Carter]

Passchendaele

The Final Call

(Captain James Willard 1870 - 1917)

Burned, and scorched, debauchery in mud,
That drenches those wretched souls
Who try to live within their dugout holes
The soldier opposite, all boils, and blisters
‘I am ready to die’ The tears say otherwise
Drown his whispers.
Clarkson just a boy of twenty one,
Picked up the gun last year,
Twenty two tomorrow,
Clarkson, smiling face, no longer here,
Killed last week, died in my embrace.
Of the dead we never speak, we lie with them,
Die at their side, grotesque parodies of man.
Many lie here, dead, without fear,
Eyes white, fog blind, as black as night,
Life has gone from them.
Rotting in the mud, blood stained
The dead remained silent in the dark.
Stark, bleak landscape,
Shaped by shells,
Wells of drowning water, brown holed, cold as ice.
The dead entice me in, limb on tired limb,
I sink never swim.
Slipping through the mire,
Barbed wire rolling all around,
The ground sucks me down, reaching for a grip,
As I slip, and slide inside.
The wire cuts, but I hold tight,
My blood is fresh, trickling from the wire mesh,
At least, so far I am still alive.
Crawling through the dark,
Struggling through the sucking clay,
Machine guns laying cover at my back.
‘Attack!’ I scream above the shrill,
I must find the will to move,
But for one brief moment
Exhaustion creeps upon me and I sleep,
Dream of safer times,
Ignorant of the crimes of man.
I twist, I writhe, barely alive,
Through all that is unholy.
Hideous landscapes, all dies before me.
Man’s folly breaks the spirit.
‘The meek will inherit the Earth?’
‘We are so meek, we cannot even speak’…
‘Inherit the Earth? Mud and death more like’…
My tired breath keeps lapsing into sleep,
But I am too afraid to close my eyes,
In case the waning light finally dies…
Our men are marching into hell,
Their blood marked their graves as they fell.
Burial often comes by shell,
Or a sinking down in suffocating well,
Tides of mud make it impossible to grip,
Swallowed as you slip beneath the flood.
The pounding of the guns,
Shells exploding like the nova of distant suns,
‘How can this war go on?’
I remember when the sun shone down upon us,
Only rain drowns men’s tears,
And I have aged thirty years in this one day,
Our war has turned my life to clay,
Slowly, dolefully, the rain is washing my life away,
Draining into the soil and clinging slime.
War tears at mankind’s bones,
And God for all his mercies
Does not listen to men’s groans,
He is deaf to all this wretched noise.
In death, soldiers are discarded
Like children’s toys after play,
Stringless puppets,
Cut down, and rotting in the bloodied clay.
Through the dark of the mire,
I hear the rattling, stuttering machine gun fire.
Soaring shells break overhead,
Pouring black smoke shrouds over the fallen dead.
Corpses hanging from barbed wire mesh,
Tunics torn, bodies stripped of flesh.
Dead soldiers decaying in filth, and squalor,
Their eyes unburdened from the horror
Of the howling barrage from the sky,
The screaming wounded who will not die.
In the dark of the choking mire,
Behind the walls of gas, and glowing fire,
I have this dread, a look of no return,
I fear my ears, and skin will burn,
Blistered by heat, and poisoned fumes
These dug out holes could become our tombs.
Shorn of our spirit, and free will
Soldiers wait below the missiles shrill,
Waiting for the final call,
When the whistles blow, and we must crawl
Up the mud drip steps to No Man’s Land.
‘Dear God please take my weary hand,
Lead me from this poisonous lair,
Where the wells of water drown despair’.
The sky is lit with a flare gun’s burst,
We serve spotless generals with a sickening thirst
That’s never quenched by our dying souls,
As we spit our blood to fulfil their goals.
The men they wait, and listen still,
Waiting for the final kill,
Mud packs tight within our boots,
Soon will be dead and new recruits
Will fill our shoes with equal dread
And use soft earth to make their bed.
In No Man’s Land our graves are laid,
As the war hawks will must be obeyed.
Although we wait to hear our names,
On whose shoulders are the blames
Of man’s folly to be laid?
Not on the shoulders of our dead.
As men wait for Zero hour,
The guns erupt, and we begin to cower,
Sliding downwards into the mud,
I swallow my fear, I taste my blood.
Shutting my eyes as the whistle blows,
Will they open again?
God… God only knows…
At dawn upon these war torn plains
No soldier upon this field remains
Silence is the sound I hear,
No cries of calling voices near,
No shells are falling overhead,
For all but the wounded, the men are dead.
Soldiers lie dying in a makeshift trench
Rats attracted by the stench
Of flesh that’s begun to putrefy
As my friends decay before they die.
I hear the sounds of laboured breath,
Another soldier enters death
His fist clenched tightly, grips the soil,
A handful of earth for his toil,
It slips like life through his fingers
He cannot live with the pain that lingers,
Inside the wound that tore his chest,
And as I watch his final rest
Begins to close his watering eyes,
And there, in the mud, this young man dies.
At least the boy has found the peace,
For him this wretched war has ceased.
I myself must wait my turn,
By watching others die I learn,
That death for all is done alone,
And war leaves men to be unknown.

[kheldar]

deleted

[kheldar]

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[kheldar]

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[N D Upson]

Worcester Life

Worcester City life’s a tale
of day-to-day, where we could fail
to see the jewel in our crown,
through endless tearing up and down……

So take a breath and view the scene
of Severn’s path through valley green,
with views to ancient hills abound
to spire’s tall and Castle mound.
We have our history to share
of Civil War and market fare,
through shamble streets where Charles hid,
to City Gate and arching Bridge.
Swan Theatre with its players merry,
river cruises and the Ferry.
Foregate Station and Shrub Hill,
Inns where you can take your fill.
King John at rest, Cathedral heights,
Guildhall, Gheluvelt, City lights.
Elgar statue, King’s School tradition,
every local News Edition.
Cricket Team and Football Club,
Crown Gate Centre at the hub.
Growing suburbs, thriving sprawl,
community at the heart of all.
College of Technology, UCW,
new Hospital should ailments trouble you.
Racecourse circuit, Park and Ride,
Town traditions, City pride…!

Firm foundations, deep roots planted.
Much we often take for granted.
Young and old reflect together;
Worcester life’s a thing to treasure.


Mr N D Upson
Worcester Resident
Composed in Worcester

[N D Upson]

TinTagel

I gazed across that wilderness of rugged beauty,
that atmospheric blend.
With nature’s shaping hands abound
a calm caress attends.
Mighty waves crashed down upon those jagged rocks,
but they held firm;
as does the Legend!

A cool sea breeze filtered through my hair,
Carrying my thoughts inland to the green-serene-slopes.
I surveyed the battle-scarred coastline,
each cave and cove, each sea-worn inlet in courageous colour.
I walked with Arthur, Excalibur in hand, to the tumbling cliffs that plunged to the very time-forged foundations of his domain.
Then on to those fallen walls, soaked in grandeur.
They reminisced in ruin.
The cold grey stone called to the mystical Merlin.
His hand was upon them and they would stand the test of time until Arthur rose up again and a new table carved.

With the black-winged storms came the winds and the rains and Morgan’s fists beat down upon that place of hewn heraldry.
She wailed on the gusting gales,
moaning an endless betrayal.
Yet those wielding swords of stone strain on against the clawing memories
and Arthur comes to smite them.

An array of sun-drenched scenery carried me onward
to the roof of the magic Kingdom.
Gwynevere’s hand stretched out in sorrow;
I felt her tears on the breeze.
Lancelot cried out to her, but the winds forsook him,
casting him into the deep blue surround.
Gone Forever!
Who knows?

I wandered in amongst the fragments.
Timeless hours passed……
Alone perhaps? Yet not alone!
For ageless souls stood fast.
As does the Legend!

Mr N D Upson
Worcester Resident
Composed at Tintagel.

[Gavin Paul Carter]

The Tomb of Moloch

Within the walls the dust lay thick
Layered heavy from centuries past
Inside the solid but crumbling brick
Were many souls who had breathed their last
Jack held a torch to guide his way
Along this dark and dreaded path
He wished he had the light of day
For in his head he heard a mocking laugh
Within its coffin it lay awake
A concrete slab above its head
Inside Jack’s coat he held a stake
That would free it from the living dead…
Slowly Jack unlocked the tomb
Then nervously drew back the gate
Like a voice it gave a scream of doom
And closed behind to seal his fate
Onwards Jack walked below the flickering flame
Which cast dancing shadows upon the ground
From behind he heard his whispered name
Forcing himself he turned around…
There it stood, the evil one
Eyes blood red, skin pearl white
A beast that would blister in the sun
Or burn to ash in the searing light
Jack removed his stake from inside his coat
Tearing a pocket in his haste
Moloch saw his terror and began to gloat
And licked its lips for that blood filled taste
Nervously Jack raised his stake
As across the crypt it began to glide
Jack stood his ground but began to shake
For here was a beast that had never died…
Moloch screamed a blood curdling scream
And became a shadow in the dark
Jack swirled around in this nightmare dream
Searching for a place to find his mark
With the stake as his only defence
Into a corner Jack backed away
The darkness now was thick and dense
And he could only hope and pray
Because Jack’s torch had been blown out
And beads of sweat formed upon his face
Jack’s heart was filled with a terrible doubt
That he would never leave this place…
Under the glow of a luminous moon
Which cast black shrouds over pillars of stone
Outside the walls of the crumbling tomb
That hid in the dark the decay of the bone
It was like the dead were holding their breath
Within the graves some six foot under
And as they waited still in death
The gate of the tomb was rent asunder
Then from the dust of centuries old
A black cloaked figure stepped from the gloom
Moloch’s skin was rigid so icy and cold
Its face so pale formed a mask of doom
There grew no hair upon its head
No lashes fluttered above its eyes
Moloch’s jagged teeth were dripping red
Blood taken from Jack near his demise.
In the vaults the rats scuttled by
While the spider’s spun another web
Jack lay in a coma but did not die
Even though from wounds his life did ebb
With heavy breath he dragged in stale air
But the stagnant taste was the last he knew
For Moloch had returned to its lair
As once more the vampires hunger grew…

[Gavin Paul Carter]

Dead Eyed Boy

Circular lights
Snake behind me in the mirror
I change gear
The world outside does not seem to care
‘Where am I going?’
‘What is my destination?’…
I pull into a petrol station
The attendant dull eyed, diffident.
‘We were robbed here last week’…
He speaks of the past,
But we both know the future will be bleaker…
He fills the tank…
‘My bank accounts dry’
‘Why drive when there’s no place to go?’
No smiles, just blank looks.
‘My cheque books inside my coat, on the back seat’…
The attendant retreats; eyes wide.
I reach into my coat,
Soul remote, sweat on my brow…
‘Now do it, NOW’…
‘On your knees I have a gun’…
One brief moment there was life in the dead eyed boy
‘Feel my grief son, lie down, lie down and die’…
The road ahead led arrow straight,
Pity the dead eyed boy,
But it was the city, the city that killed him,
Sealed his fate…
‘Grim place this, lovers don’t kiss, they screw,
Children sniff glue,
This nations filled with human waste,
What a bitter taste what a waste of life’…
‘I tried to slash my wrists once,
But the knife was blunt.
I never cried when my mum died,
We lived in a slum crumbs for tea,
She was a waste of space;
I resent her for what she did to me.
Dad was always drunk,
Skunk breath in the morning.
Sprawled out over his bed, he ruled us with fear’
‘Dear Dad, glad you’re dead’.
I put my foot down,
I wanted to leave this place behind,
Find a more human face,
Away from the ugliness, death, disgrace.
‘I guess there are no cities for men like me,
but I can kill and steal, I have my own free will,
I always seem to get ahead’…
I smiled…
‘At least city boy, I ain’t dead’…