Skip navigation

Tag Archives: Poetry

The sky between us

Trondheim’s yawning fjord

Embellishes a late February’s dusk

This lilac, pink, roseate ghost

Banners horizon’s ceiling

When earth’s shadow

Fuses night from day

An intricate pastel pause

Which is aptly named

Belt of Venus

Wakes divide a few short paragraphs

As fishing boats and ferries acutely slice

This temporary azure sheen

Three silver birch trees lead eyes

From this kitchen window on the stone hill

Up high

The verve of a seer sits on his zenith

Where he’s fed, content and

naturally enlightened

 

Advertisements
Image

both of us united in a common fear of each others talons

War´s influence
(allegedly, if you believe in astrology)
arose to the South of Jonsvatnet (John´s water)
while I, for a few seconds
cut circles in its path of temporary shine
with the metal fish at the end of my line
Bail arm trip, retrieval slip
then lightning dynamics
Of pike´s waspish violence upon it!
The decoy minnow
Anything but slow as old esox
gave her acrobatic show
with ariel attempts to escape me
After pulling, tugging, plenty of shrugging
twenty minutes later I assumed the victor
But,
as I lifted her water clear
she anticipated me and bit me shear!
My curse was anything but ”Oh dear!”
She either, never shed a tear
but both of us united in a common fear
Of each others talons
Somewhat gently
I set her down in the shallows
Carefully plucked back my hook
Then gave my bloody finger a sook
With a swish of her shovel sized tail
off she cruised with a humoured look
Towards the pillar of Mars
Both she and I perforated with scars
Made our ways home
Under early August’s returning stars.

 

A few notes about this piece, which I will get around to fitting in here with the poem.

Mars was at its closest to Earth in 60,000 years this night.

*Esox Lucius is the latin name for a Pike
A bail arm is the piece on a fishing reel. It catches and gathers the line as it rotates.
The last line is to do with the fact that there is no night between late May and early August where I live. The Arctic Circle is another 400 km`s north, from Trondheim, where you get the famous midnight sun.

Brig Portrait
I am no cosmogonist for suggesting
That the end and the beginning
Are one and the same
Winter opposes summer
Death, life and so forth
On a perpetual journey
Of violence, rest
Love, hate
Science fact
Metaphoric beliefs
Everything shares one common truth
The unzipping of creation
The four bases
Adenine pairs with Thymine
Guanine pairs with Cytosine
All split open
Then reborn in puzzling sequences
Ribo and Deoxy Nucleic Acids
Forged from a star collapsing
On the edge of our solar system
Gravitating, tugging, pulling, spinning,
BOOM!
Just like the other BIG-inning
Circa 14 billion years earlier
But before that
The quiet, stillness, nothing
How do we know?
After…
The present
The future
The past
Alpha and omega,
First and the last

Image

Lady, I never knew you
But I mourned you recently
Because the day you decided
Enough was enough
Ripples traveled outwards
Until their forces
Came back on themselves
Not as singular crests
But as tsunami waves
So giant, even the Leviathan
Of the stupid ignorance that created
‘their’ laws would never again dream
 of paddling out in their shallow slopes
The ones that fall away sharply
into an abyss of rage,
that still exists at this time
Lady; you quoted
“Without vision, the people will perish
and without courage and inspiration
dreams will die
the dream of freedom
the dream of peace”
Lady Rosa Parks
Forever a soul of freedom
All humanity sends thanks

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosa_Parks

 

Image

 

Have you ever seen a cuttlefish, 
turn in a second 
from red to green? 
A wave pulsates, 
ripples and flows a nano-second tide, 
from its tail to its head, and back. 


Tonight, the sky throbbed and vibrated, 
whilst my head gyrated, to take it all in. 


This giant lumen across the Orkla fjord.


I, poet was far from bored! 


My ears nipped, as the sun licked 
through Van Allen zones, 
the protective curtains of our home 
First, arc green, feint, almost steam 


From its hilltop bottom came the magic 
folding as if pleated, 
or is it a flag in the breeze?


All around, as if under a lysergic umbrella 
The “Nordlys” of Valhalla 
rolled their snare drum beats 
Awesome aurora, directly on top of me, 
the jagged puncture of auroral corona 


Extending beyond zenith, 
the glows in the sky from Polar light 


Which arrive with the suns carbon mass ejection might 


The 93 million mile gap, 20-30 hours after, shudders, 
mutates… 
whacks us with this phenomenal hiss 
this inviolable zap. 


Miles 600 to 60 is how Solaris to Polaris 
Rains down from the sky, forming aurora borealis. 
Norway’s celestial, crystal palace

Image

A Beach in Thailand, at peace forever hopefully

Unpredictable contradictions

Between the crust’s frictions

Instantly jerks, slips, slides

Vivid eruption of time and tides

Caustic upon life’s shores

After stresses want no more

On land or ocean’s floor

Mother’s power is gigantic

Her consequences Titanic

Causing Tsunami waves slick

Shudders, erupts, quick

Brick upon tumbling brick

Or fatal blow, stab and kick

Indiscriminately killing

Rich and poor alike,

The sick and healthy

Our world’s stresses

Feed, relentless, staying wealthy

Light forks 2

The night alights wi thunderous frights.

The arteries ae the heavens show thursels.

Ma heid felt heavy before the whips ae hell announced,

like two fleets ae super-tankers colliding;

thur collective contents ae summers heat, sweat ‘beads

fell in cacophonous applause on the bouquet ae warm tarmac.

Gulls laughed at I, mental bammer guy who wi a screen strained eye

couldnae miss bein eye-witness ti a rare midsummer storm hiss.

Head drifted an gawped above, whilst feet strolled, happy, quicker, stourrie;

then stopped.

Eyes watched, mortality questioned, but stood bold.

Waitin and watchin an darin itself,

to come oot  frae underneath that railway bridge,

and stand back oot in the Wester Hailes car park.

At that rate ae spate, a thought a’d huv ti wait,

fir the RNLI, or, at least until a saw that bhoy wi the ark!

So take heed, coz ye’ll be potted mead

if ye get hit wi one ae natures mega sparks

Hello all and thanks for the new wave of follows and comments for my fripperies these last weeks. I really didn’t think anyone gave a flying… but it’s good to have a few people add me and I appreciate it. I have to say the Gravatar has been doing my head in to reply and follow others as I only come through to that and then it takes me nowhere in some cases so I will get up on it and work it out…or do others have the same problem?

This week saw me give stand up a try all for 5 mins and the audience cheered – both of them…ok, so maybe something close to 50 or more and it was exhilarating and adrenalin packed as are all open mic sessions …for some of us.  My jokes became a bit wooden so I used a computer poem I wrote a long time back with a quick revision today. Since my last piece went down well here I give you a polite and English translation of Image:

Dregs To Megs

 

The day is done

The clock chimes one

I touch-type my keyboard without fret

A marriage made in heaven

From the day we first met

Although it wasn’t always this much fun

Especially that daft keyboard on the Sinclair ZX81

Or the annoying monotony

Fast forward, stop, rewind, stop, play

Of audio cassette data entry,

 

Today I have: Gigabytes, Terabytes, Jpegs, Mpegs

I remember the arrival of the 16Kb RAM pack

Had me wetting my kegs

Back in those early eighties days

When you could fill your TV screen with

20 goto 10, 10 Run “Teacher’s a plonker!”

“You boy?…yet again… Detention!”

“Och aye! Thanks sir!”

Was my calculated ploy

Just to be the best boy

With logic and binary.

Those extra hours, gave me

Computer refinery

About our planet´s counting machines

 

From the abacus, over five millennium

To Napier´s logarithms and Bones

To the genial mechanics of Charles Babbage

(That in his lifetime, were never born)

Then, onto rooms full of glass valves

The brains of code breaking ENIAC

Made World War´s Enigma, easier to solve

 

Later came transistors to lighten the load

And Taito’s Invaders GET-TING-CLO-SER-MON-O-TONES

Platform Willie would have lusted after Lara Croft

His pokey one AND/OR’D into her zero muff

Even today’s speeds allow us to interact with them

In the loaded hydraulics of virtual buff!

But exercise a wee bit caution,

Coz social media rues this day

You’ve become the target audience of I.C fates,

The blogger revolutionaries within the anti I.T states,

And all those charming Trolls and phishers of I.D fakes

The myriad of strangers, so charming, superfit, suave and cool,

The reality is psycho, obese, raving fools

Don’t be afraid, keep your distance and keep your cool

Use your firewall and your own internetegrity rule

And be careful of your future at that screen near you!

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ENIAC

http://inventors.about.com/od/nstartinventors/a/John_Napier.htm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ZX81

ImageTo get your ticket to write
For the write line highway
Just open your soul,
Relieve your woes,
Word for word, all will flow
Most writers I know, still receive a giro
No PC, but they just use biro
They opinionate, make fun of the state
(Which does a good job on itself anyway)
Fun write lines can go a long way
Either open your heart or go insane
Poems or prose will give you gain.
It’s a fantastic way to work your brain
It’s a breeze, there’s no such thing as block
If there is? Then get out for a walk
Sunsets, moon, stars and clouds
Bustling streets with rush hour crowds
Take to the country roads or clubland beats
Perhaps you prefer the hills of peat
The sweet songs of the birds
Or the wind and the rains gurgling splurge?
A dram of malt, or a pint of gin
Gives a few the needs to pick up a pen
Or have a cup of tea with herbs
For inspiring ´chilled out´ verbs
Whatever your poison
To observe, sniff, touch, listen
Words can break you out of any
Prozac, depressive, self-scarring prison
It might not even be that scary
A hobby, time killer, or verse for a new baby
When your heart becomes ignited
Never be short sighted
Write for you alone about what
You have or haven’t been through
You’ll soon discover, that the harder you work
The more your audience will smirk
Laugh, grimace, cry, sometimes repeat
And more chance of print is what you’ll meet
So cruise the write-line highway
In your own missives truck
Free your inner and let it ROCK!
And a gigantic good luck, if with your words,
You’re game enough to try and earn a buck.

Write Line is an inspirational anthem I wrote for writers like myself who go through at least a few of the things mentioned in this piece.

ultimatemindsettoday

A great WordPress.com site

Welcome to the Music Club

Music Takes You on Journeys

Big Red Carpet Nursing

Fun & Progress!

mejfote

life fashion & more