I was looking through some poetry today, searching for inspiration….
I enjoyed revisiting some favourites…
Here’s a couple I’ve written in the inside cover of my writing book, to remind me of what I’m doing there!
What is Poetry? Who Knows?
Not the rose, but the scent of the rose;
Not the sky, but the light in the sky;
Not the fly, but the gleam of the fly;
Not the sea, but the sound of the sea;
Not myself, but what makes me
See, hear and feel something that prose
Cannot: and what it is, who knows!
Eleanor Farjeon – Poems for Children
He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust,
He knew no more that he was poor,
Or that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy ways
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book. What liberty
A loosened spirit brings!
Emily Dickinson – The Poems of Emily Dickinson
Here’s a couple from Steve Turner, a writer I hadn’t heard of before a friend gave me a book of his to read. I loved pretty much all of them….
City Sunset (ii)
Tall buildings
poised
like chessmen
in cloudy fingers.
Sneaky old sun
makes
a last move.
In The End
In the end.
In the very end of the last moment,
when the filter tip of the world
is completely shadowed by a descending
heel, we’ll call in the experts
for their considered opinion.
We’ll arrange for an apocalyptic
edition of Time Magazine,
complete with artists’ impressions.
We’ll comfort ourselves with the fact
that it has never happened before.
In the end, we’ll be deciding
whether to decide.
In the very end of the last moment,
we’ll falter,
half-believing,
crushed.
In My World
In my world
I would write
of golden suns
if it weren’t
for the obscuring clouds.
I would write
of the wind-bent grass
but all the fields are tarmacked
& multistorey.
Instead I’ll be
an urban Wordsworth
writing of
reinforced concrete landscapes
& clear brown skies
where
to wander lonely as a cloud
is just not advisable
after dark.
… and my favourite…. 😀
White With Two Sugars (please)
Coffee gives you
a legal shot of
energy when your
eyelids are feeling
down.
Coffee kills time
when you’re washed
ashore on the streets
of London.
(Coffee can even
help rainstorms
disappear)
Coffee is something
to dangle your lips
in when conversation
is scarce.
Coffee is a good
place to take a
new friend.
(Coffee is an excuse
to stay half an hour
longer.)
Aquaintanceships end
on the doorstep but
friendships begin
with coffee.
Coffee can be
appreciated by all
generations.
Coffee is a multilingual,
multi-racial, liquid esperanto.
Yes.
There’s something quite
religious about coffee.
1000 Fields of Roses 
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