N – Now it’s Over

Now it’s Over was inspired by a memory exercise when completing an online Poetry School course last year. However, I took my memories and turned them into fiction.

 

Now it’s over

Lying on brown shag pile,
warmed by roaring flames,
listening to The Carpenters,
We’ve only just begun.

I sip red wine from crystal,
you stroke my hair and cheek,
whisper sweet nothings
in my ear—

That was yesterday
but the record still spins on.

***

N – Narrative

N is also for Narrative form. I tend to write most of my poetry this way. I like the way it tells a story.

‘Narrative poems come in all shapes and sizes, but they all have one thing in common: They tell stories.’ (Michael J Bugeja – The Art and Craft of Poetry)

N – Nature – Nature Poem – Red-Eared Terrapin

 

I wrote Red-Eared Terrapin around three years ago after watching two terrapins on my local lake.

The Red-Eared Terrapin

Unaware of onlookers,
a hard shell rests
on brittle bark,
basks in the sun.
Small slinky head
stretches towards the sky.

Aroused by footsteps
in snakehead blooms
he makes a dive, splashes
into dappled water,
but not before a red stripe
behind his ear reveals his name.

 

M – Magnificent Majesty

Magnificent Majesty was created for an assignment on my advanced creative writing course with the Open University. Part of the assignment included writing a villanelle which is a closed form. I chose a piano as my subject because that’s my second love to writing.

Magnificent Majesty was first published in Brian Wrixon’s Poets with Voices Strong – Rhyme with Reason and later on OAPSchat website.

 

Magnificent Majesty

The black beast stands proud on the floor,
his exquisite profile radiates light.
A magnificent majesty we all adore.

The lip of his mouth is open to explore
inside; ivory white teeth, gleaming and bright
in the black beast that stands proud on the floor.

Black tails sits down and strikes a chord
or two, then soft raindrops descend and glide
along the magnificent majesty we all adore.

He extends his arm to turn over the score
as he practises his repertoire for tonight,
on the black beast that stands proud on the floor.

The shower’s wrath deepens to storm
whilst the pianist continues to recite
on the magnificent majesty we all adore.

The virtuoso in his glory performs and ignores
what’s around as he plays with pride,
on the black beast that stands proud on the floor,
His Magnificent Majesty we all adore.

***

M – Muse

’The spirit, force, or a person that inspires or impels a poet to create.’ (John Drury, The Poetry Dictionary)

In the above poem my piano was my muse

M – Music Poem

Magnificent Majesty is a music poem as it uses Chopin’s Raindrop Prelude as an extended metaphor.

M – Mother’s Breath

Mother’s Breath is a Pantoum which is another closed form. I was inspired to write it when watching my mum sleeping in hospital in 2007. Thankfully we didn’t lose her at that time although she never fully recovered. She managed seven more years before falling asleep for the last time on June 22nd 2014. It was the saddest day of my life. I don’t think we ever get over losing a loved one but instead just get better at putting one foot in front of the other. My mum was one of the most inspiring women I’ve ever known. She showed courage and tenderness throughout her life, always putting others first, and she fought her terminal illness without complaint.

Mother’s Breath was first published in Brian Wrixon’s Poets with Voices Strong – Rhyme with Reason and later on OAPSchat website.

Mum this one’s for you…

Mother’s Breath
She lies peaceful, serene, and alone,
long silky-smooth hair drapes her face,
faded parting covering her crown.
She breathes peaceful in this safe place.

Long silky-smooth hair drapes her face
on the soft high swaddling retreat.
She breathes peaceful in this safe place,
her secure oasis, discrete.

In her soft high swaddling retreat,
she breathes softly, unaware I stand near
her secure oasis. I’m discreet
and patient, waiting and watching over her.

She breathes softly, unaware I’m near.
Her faded parting covering her crown.
I stay patient, waiting and watching her
as she lies, peaceful, serene and alone.

***

It took me a long time before I could write about the last moments of Mum’s life but I managed it when digging into memories while taking part in an online poetry course with The Poetry School last year.

 

Last Moments

Milky eyes
stare into space,

I drip water from a straw
into opened lips,

you suck but no words
leave your mouth.

I squeeze your hand
you squeeze mine,

I stroke long fingers
with tenderness.

The doctor calls me from the room:

you take a last gasp of air
at 11:22am and slip away,

not allowing goodbyes:

I’m not ready for you to die.

A photo frame hangs in my study,
nut-brown eyes sparkle,
open lips smile down at me.

A voice in my head whispers my name,
‘you’re not alone, I’m still here.’

Memories flood my mind:
kisses, cuddles and tucks up in bed,

playing catch, hopscotch, skipping,
two balls banging on the wall,

karaoke in the lounge,
giggles as we grease dance,

you twirl me under your arm,
we jive around the room,

delicious dinners,
a glass of Shiraz,

thrashings at Scrabble
and crosswords,

walks by the sea,
sandcastles on the sand,

that last Sunday morning
when I stroked and held your hand.

You’ll always be part of me,
You’ll always be in my heart

but not quite the same
as holding you in my arms.

 

L – Longer Days 

Longer Days was inspired by a spring prompt. It was first published in Brian Wrixon’s Poets with Voices Strong – Spring Poetry.

 

Longer Days

Longer days, shorter nights,
pastel colours sprout,
warmer sun, lighter wind,
children play and sing,
birds hum out loud.

Men on mountain bikes,
tots on tricycles,
spin fast,
speed on dust,
riders hold on tight.

Frogs seek out ponds,
safe home for birth,
mounting males drone,
females quiver,
too early to spawn.

Ducks dip,
ripple water.
Golden reeds of canary
grass blow sweet
scent with the wind.

 

L – Letter Poem

A poem written in the form of a letter

L – Light Verse

Light verse is poetry that entertains and tends to make the reader laugh. It includes the limerick.

 

 

 

 

K – Kleptomaniac Doctor

Kleptomaniac Doctor was inspired by an exercise prompt on my first creative writing course with the Open University.

Kleptomaniac Doctor

A registrar skulks into the ward,
his eyes sweep the area for a high-class reward.

Something bleeps on the locker to his right,
big buttons with large numbers bellow bright–

‘Aha,’ he bleats, ‘an old man’s phone,
how I’d like that as my own.’

His pocket itches for this prize,
he slides the new gem deep inside.

He empties his plunder at the end of duty–
…posse of phones, cuddly cutie,

pens, coasters, a tailor’s tape measure,
wristwatches, and his greatest treasure,

savoured for later when his shift is done,
a sticky but stale, piggy-pink iced bun.

K – Kyrielle

Kyrielle pronounced keer-ee-él is a French form with a four line stanza. Each line uses eight syllables and the fourth line is a refrain – chorus like. (John Drury, The Poetry Dictionary)

 

J – Jersey Cow

Inspiration was derived for this poem when on a placement as Poet in Residence, at a local Victorian park, after three wooden sculptured cows were erected in the park.

 

Jersey Cow 

Deep, dark eyes,
matching black nose
unable to smell,

no true mouth to chew
the grass beneath her hooves,

houses a heart
in her tanned timber body,
from Petworth’s 180-year-old oak tree.

 

J – Journey

When you begin a poem you begin a journey.

I love it when I start a new poem and begin my journey. It’s through this process that I watch my poems spring into life. The first draft acts as a frame and from here surplus words get eliminated and imagery added so the reader sees what I  see. Quite often some stanzas may be taken out completely and sometimes I may spend hours just trying to get one word right.

 

 

 

I – Ichthyostega 

Ichthostega was inspired when completing an April poetry challenge around five years ago.
This is how an ichthyostega looks today

Ichthyostega

Three foot long with a backbone too,
I’m a cross between a croc and a fish.

My doggy-like limbs move with ease
as I stir stealthily on the ground,

I slither into a stream to hide,
so the sun doesn’t dry my skin,

googly eyes bulge from my triangular head,
my pectoral fins scramble up trees.

I’m the first tetrapod to creep on land –
Named Mudskipper—for this is what I do.

 

I – Imagery

Imagery is something I like to use in my poetry. Hilda Doolittle was an imagist and my aim is to become known as an ‘imagist’ too.

 

H – How to give birth to an Alien 

How to give birth to an Alien is a poem that I wrote from a prompt  to write about ‘birth’ and ‘alien’ and this is what I came up with. This was written in 2011. How to give birth to an Alien was first published in Ink Pantry’s Field of Words and later, on OAPSchat.com

How to give birth to an alien
Start with the species, what is desired?
Think. Are tentacles, legs and heads required?

What about shape, square, blobby or round?
Seek, search, discover, selections found.

The grey scrawny male with bright black slit eyes
or the white winged torso that’s dressed in disguise.

The green blob of jelly out for a jog
or the red skinned sly serpent afraid of the fog?

Duck sparkling stars whilst riding dark skies,
set down on the world, take caution, be wise.

Befriend beastly species, set seduction in play,
beguile and bewitch, to get your own way.

Mission accomplished, return home to earth,
linger nine months for the alien’s birth.

You have your agenda and know what to do…
‘How to give birth to an alien?’ …I haven’t a clue.

What about shape, square, blobby or round?
Seek, search, discover, selections found.

The grey scrawny male with bright black slit eyes
or the white winged torso that’s dressed in disguise.

The green blob of jelly out for a jog
or the red skinned sly serpent afraid of the fog?

Duck sparkling stars whilst riding dark skies,
set down on the world, take caution, be wise.

Befriend beastly species, set seduction in play,
beguile and bewitch, to get your own way.

Mission accomplished, return home to earth,
linger nine months for the alien’s birth.

You have your agenda and know what to do…
‘How to give birth to an alien?’ …I haven’t a clue.

 

G – Grandad’s Garden 

Grandad’s Garden was my winning poem in the student category with Brighton and Hove Arts Council in 2017. Grandad’s Garden was published on the BHAC website and later on OAPSchat website.

 

Grandad’s Garden

I turn the cone upside down,
it changes to a flower,
like the dahlias
in Grandad’s garden
where creepy earwigs
hide inside.

I paint my pinecone fiery orange,
use a green-striped straw for the stem,

wrap it in mistletoe paper,
place it under the tree
as a special present
for Mummy
on Christmas Day,

to make her smile,
cos she cries in bed, every night,
since Grandad died.

 

 

F – Farmyard Fugue

Farmyard Fugue is another of mine and it’s a jargon poem. Jargon poems were introduced to me by Poet and Tutor, Alison Chisholm when I attended her workshops at Swanwick Writer’ Summer School.  The exercise was to take jargon from one subject and use it in another. I think you should be able to spot easily enough which two subjects I chose. It was great fun. Why not try a jargon poem yourself?

Farmyard Fugue was previously published by Reach Magazine and later on the OAPSchat website.

 

 

 

Farmyard Fugue

Black belly sheep
‘baa baa’ in harmony
across Madrigal Meadow
to key signature ‘C.’

Belgian Blue cow moos,
an impromptu solo,
trills triad green pastures,
hooves stamp staccato.

Bourbon red turkey triplets
harmonise alto and tenor,
horns blow perfect pitch
to Moolight Sonata.

Stallion quartet pluck strings,
sweep sticks across cellos,
neigh in unison to finale,
bow heads glissando.

 

E – Eclipse

This is another one of my poems and was inspired by the Eclipse. Eclipse was first published by Reach Magazine and later on the OAPSchat website.

 

Eclipse

Set in slow motion
the moon’s silhouette
cloaks the plate of the sun.

The moon grazes
the sweltering star,
a solitaire band emerges,
black,
broken beams chase the dark.

Blackbirds,
magpies,
crows,
loom in circles,
dance in formation,
shriek erratic screams.

Atmosphere chills.

The moon’s shadow slithers away
–to reveal a daylight sky.