Today's poet

Quote:

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Originally Posted by XRunner

Speak Of The North! A Lonely Moor

Speak of the North! A lonely moor
Silent and dark and tractless swells,
The waves of some wild streamlet pour
Hurriedly through its ferny dells.

Profoundly still the twilight air,
Lifeless the landscape; so we deem
Till like a phantom gliding near
A stag bends down to drink the stream.

And far away a mountain zone,
A cold, white waste of snow-drifts lies,
And one star, large and soft and lone,
Silently lights the unclouded skies.

by Charlotte Bronte

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What an apt choice XRunner. I have been researching walks around Haworth as a last minute project for an over-worked friend.

Nice change of Avatar!;) Thanks.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

The time before death

by Kabir

Friend, hope for the Guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive!
Think... and think... while you are alive.
What you call "salvation" belongs to the time
before death.

If you don't break your ropes while you're alive,
do you think
ghosts will do it after?

The idea that the soul will rejoin with the ecstatic
just because the body is rotten--
that is all fantasy.
What is found now is found then.
If you find nothing now,
you will simply end up with an apartment in the
City of Death.

If you make love with the divine now, in the next
life you will have the face of satisfied desire.

So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is,
Believe in the Great Sound!

Kabir says this: When the Guest is being searched for,
it is the intensity of the longing for the Guest that
does all the work.
Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.

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This moving poem and your previous post Frecks would seem to suggest that you're in a particualrly comtemplative frame of mind at present - hope it's productive in a therapeutic sense.

Sorry to hear about the injury - I can empathise as I ended up with a back injury from gardening last week end - sheer the ignominy of it!!! It could have least have happened while intrepidly flying full pelt on the fells :D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Stef F

Might I curl up with you
warmed and sheltered
like the new lamb tucked
against its mother ewe?

Might I join you in peaceful slumber
close by your side
snug like hand in glove
torseau to lumbar?

Might I wake up with you
refreshed and renewed
like the rising sun
bringing cheer to all that we do?

And might this just be
the perfect ending
and the perfect beginning
for anyone, not just you and me?

Good night, my dear,
I dream that the past has passed
and the new is beginning
and that beginning be drawing near

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Oh wow, you get better with each poem Stef. This is really lovely. Has real resonance for so many too.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by N-dubya

I've been writing a few recently here's a new one I don't want to over explin this one although you might not know what I am harping on about

I am a blob of gravy on a painting
by Ternce Cuneo. Hiding amongst
brushstroked darkness, besides the
thick impasto muzzle flash. A variation

in trajectory, would see me an inch into
that chrome orange and vermillion red,
brash as an evening fair in late August.

How i got here is a mystery, perhaps
projected through the air from a knife
of the regimental silver or flicked
in silent contempt from a saluting
middle finger. Not even the ellusive

mouse freely skipping across spilled
ammunition tins is aware of me, but why
should he be, I'm a dried raw umber skin
that once was a blob of gravy.

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I really like this NDubya. Am particularly enjoying the art theme. I am intrigued and will reread a few times until the germ of the idea that I have (with regards to its meaning) becomes clearer.

I, with rain-soaked hair
motionless after motion
watching rain-soaked hares

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

This moving poem and your previous post Frecks would seem to suggest that you're in a particualrly comtemplative frame of mind at present - hope it's productive in a therapeutic sense.

Sorry to hear about the injury - I can empathise as I ended up with a back injury from gardening last week end - sheer the ignominy of it!!! It could have least have happened while intrepidly flying full pelt on the fells :D

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Thanks Mossy, it is getting bit better already, i ignored common sense and took some ibuprofen then went for a short run ! :eek: seems to have helped! Hope your back improves soon.....you are right about the contemplation thing....also finding it hard to write at the moment but really enjoying others work, Hes tonight's haiku was gorgeous well done....

Quote:

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Originally Posted by N-dubya

I've been writing a few recently here's a new one I don't want to over explin this one although you might not know what I am harping on about

I am a blob of gravy on a painting
by Ternce Cuneo. Hiding amongst
brushstroked darkness, besides the
thick impasto muzzle flash. A variation

in trajectory, would see me an inch into
that chrome orange and vermillion red,
brash as an evening fair in late August.

How i got here is a mystery, perhaps
projected through the air from a knife
of the regimental silver or flicked
in silent contempt from a saluting
middle finger. Not even the ellusive

mouse freely skipping across spilled
ammunition tins is aware of me, but why
should he be, I'm a dried raw umber skin
that once was a blob of gravy.

---

Is this perhaps another contemplation; a search for meaning amidst the vast happenstance of life exigencies? A longing for a teleological certainty, or a lament at it's lost? Those are rhetorical qs by the way - no intention to intrude.

Whatever, the meaning you intended, it was clearly meaningful to me, in my own way! And I especially like the 'brash as an evening fair in late August' line - v. good, so thank you again N-D.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

Thanks Mossy, it is getting bit better already, i ignored common sense and took some ibuprofen then went for a short run ! :eek: seems to have helped! Hope your back improves soon.....you are right about the contemplation thing....also finding it hard to write at the moment but really enjoying others work, Hes tonight's haiku was gorgeous well done....

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Thank Freckle. Like you, ibup. and short runs have helped considerably, and it's really on the mend, even managed a few situps again over the last couple of night.

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Originally Posted by Hes

What an apt choice XRunner. I have been researching walks around Haworth as a last minute project for an over-worked friend.

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How did you manage to find someone more overworked than yourself! ;):D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

This moving poem and your previous post Frecks would seem to suggest that you're in a particualrly comtemplative frame of mind at present - hope it's productive in a therapeutic sense.

Sorry to hear about the injury - I can empathise as I ended up with a back injury from gardening last week end - sheer the ignominy of it!!! It could have least have happened while intrepidly flying full pelt on the fells :D

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Gardening is bloody lethal. I've had more injuries from that than I've ever had from running.

I've just started my beans and sunflowers and already they are too big to fit on top of the kitchen cupboards, but it is still too early to plant out. What is a boy to do?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

I, with rain-soaked hair
motionless after motion
watching rain-soaked hares

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Cool :cool:

I like what you did there.

Stood by the window
Lightening takes me by surprise:
Mad March thunderstorm

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

Stood by the window
Lightening takes me by surprise:
Mad March thunderstorm

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I really like this Harry, I can just imagine you!

I am trying to write tonight but it is like drawing teeth!

D.P.F.R.

Eric Mitchell 1976,
Thank you,
For the club,
That is full of people,
Who are friendly,
Always give you a helping word,
From top to bottom,
A great place to be,
Amongst like minds,
In the Dark Peak.

By Herakles.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

I really like this Harry, I can just imagine you!

I am trying to write tonight but it is like drawing teeth!

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How about writing a haiku about drawing teeth?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Herakles

D.P.F.R.

Eric Mitchell 1976,
Thank you,
For the club,
That is full of people,
Who are friendly,
Always give you a helping word,
From top to bottom,
A great place to be,
Amongst like minds,
In the Dark Peak.

By Herakles.

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It sounds like you've had a good time with the club. I'm glad you are enjoying your running.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

I really like this Harry, I can just imagine you!

I am trying to write tonight but it is like drawing teeth!

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Words flow like spilt wine.
Or they're corked in the bottle.
Can't find the corkscrew.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

How about writing a haiku about drawing teeth?

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drawing inscisors
ain't as easy as it seems
in fact a girl has been known to scream

i was never any good at haiku!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by freckle

This is so sweet...lovely, keep dreaming of the north stef one day you will get there (just like one day somone somewhere might buy my house!!!!)...X runner I loved your poem and Mossdog the plath you put up....I am waking this morning to a continuing back niggle which i think might stop me from training for a bit (got it lifting a chair last week i think)....drat!....anyhoo have a nice day all

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Thanks Freckle

I'm going to have to keep dreaming for a bit longer; my escape to Yorkshire campaign is proving to be a long slow process...but it's still chugging along.

Have you posted your house on here?

Sorry to hear about your back - I find bacardi and coke drunk in the bath is an excellent pain relief :D But seriously, I hope it clears up soon.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Old Whippet

Should be working but logged in for a peep at some poems. Little time at the moment and mostly focus on the original stuff here. I love this Steph. Peaceful and dreamy, and hopeful. And you rhymed lumbar with slumber. Inspired!

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Thanks OW .... yes hopeful, ever dreamy and hopeful :cool:

I'm really liking this. I've read it lots of times. I've no idea what its really about but for me it conjures up a feast of images.

I think sometimes I feel like an overlooked dried raw umber skin that was once a blob of gravy and just occasionally I feel like I could have been projected through the air from a knife of the regimental silver - what a way to be delivered! I love these lines :)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by N-dubya

I've been writing a few recently here's a new one I don't want to over explin this one although you might not know what I am harping on about

I am a blob of gravy on a painting
by Ternce Cuneo. Hiding amongst
brushstroked darkness, besides the
thick impasto muzzle flash. A variation

in trajectory, would see me an inch into
that chrome orange and vermillion red,
brash as an evening fair in late August.

How i got here is a mystery, perhaps
projected through the air from a knife
of the regimental silver or flicked
in silent contempt from a saluting
middle finger. Not even the ellusive

mouse freely skipping across spilled
ammunition tins is aware of me, but why
should he be, I'm a dried raw umber skin
that once was a blob of gravy.

---

Herdwick tupping ram
bull-like shoulders, curly horns
magnificant beast

first Wheatear of spring
flittering from post to post
on Dalehead's slopes

Fell Running.

How can you be fleet,
When up to your knees in peat,
Look at the map and go down the wrong fell,
Then have to run up again, oh well,
Feeling good with your descending.
How many will you pass,
Whoops there go your feet you end up on your ass,
These are what make Fell running great,
We don't want the H and S culture from our nanny state,
There's nothing i like more than being with friends,
Getting filthy running up hills and in bogs,
Hoping it never ends.

By Herakles

Snow, snow here again.
I would rather have the wind and rain.
Those two elements are soon gone.
But snow tends to linger on.
Snow's slippy when you run and wet and cold.
The young may love it but not the old.
Go snow so I can run without fear
If you must return then make it next year!


Alf
(Heavily influenced by William McGonagall :D)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Derby Tup

Herdwick tupping ram
bull-like shoulders, curly horns
magnificant beast

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A great image DT.

Some great poetry today Alf, Herakles and Derby Tup!

The Gift

You brought me mangoes
and set them on my table.
Unprepossessing, thick-skinned,
those hard green fruit.
Only the hint of a blush
suggesting that within.
With quick, deft hands
you pared their bodies
and slitting the wet, orange flesh
you unleashed the sun
...the moon, the stars...
and how we devoured them,
lips sticky from their juice,
tasting the sweetness
that we once thought
we would never taste
again.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

The Gift

You brought me mangoes
and set them on my table.
Unprepossessing, thick-skinned,
those hard green fruit.
Only the hint of a blush
suggesting that within.
With quick, deft hands
you pared their bodies
and slitting the wet, orange flesh
you unleashed the sun
...the moon, the stars...
and how we devoured them,
lips sticky from their juice,
tasting the sweetness
that we once thought
we would never taste
again.

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Utterly brilliant Hes! :cool:

Am i the only one who thinks mangoes taste like soap ?. Good poem Hes.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Herakles

Am i the only one who thinks mangoes taste like soap ?. Good poem Hes.

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Depends which soap you use mate! :p

Bleaklow {in the style of Anton Mullan}

Bleakhigh, Bleaklow,
Getting lost don't know where to go,
Bleakhigh,Bleaklow,
The weather is freezing,
Bleakhigh,Bleaklow,
Up to my ears in peat going very slow,
Bleakhigh,Bleaklow,
My strength is leaving,
Bleakhigh,Bleaklow,
On to Kinder here we go,
Bleakhigh,Bleaklow,
Glad that's over feel like heaving,
Now then what about the Kinder surprise !.

By Herakles

THE THOUGHT-FOX

I imagine this midnight moment’s forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock’s loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.
Through the window I see no star:
Something more near
Though deeper within darkness
Is entering the loneliness:

Cold, delicately as the dark snow,
A fox’s nose touches twig, leaf;
Two eyes serve a movement, that now
And again now, and now, and now

Sets neat prints into the snow
Between trees, and warily a lame
Shadow lags by stump and in hollow
Of a body that is bold to come
Across clearings, an eye,
A widening deepening greenness,
Brilliantly, concentratedly,
Coming about its own business
Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox
It enters the dark hole of the head.
The window is starless still; the clock ticks,
The page is printed.

by Ted Hughes

Fate.

The time of gods is at an end,
You can be all powerful,
Oh mighty Zeus,
But the one thing you can't escape is fate,
No lightning bolt can save you now,
You disappear into the eternal night,
Victim of the godless hordes.

By Herakles.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

Some great poetry today Alf, Herakles and Derby Tup!

The Gift

You brought me mangoes
and set them on my table.
Unprepossessing, thick-skinned,
those hard green fruit.
Only the hint of a blush
suggesting that within.
With quick, deft hands
you pared their bodies
and slitting the wet, orange flesh
you unleashed the sun
...the moon, the stars...
and how we devoured them,
lips sticky from their juice,
tasting the sweetness
that we once thought
we would never taste
again.

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:cool::cool::cool::cool: Definitely worth 4 cools Hes. I would make it 5 but unfortunately I am restricted to 4 by the thread police.

Cage.

Open my head what would you see ?,
A parakeet sitting in a Banyan tree,
Could it be something like being insane,
Going from a car crash to a wrecked train,
Will you look at me and be impatient,
Or do i look like a mental in-patient,
You don't really need to judge me,
I'll be my harshest judge for eternity,
Now i know you'll be sick of hearing me say,
I'm going to try my best to run today,
It must seem that i have been repeating this for an age,
Whilst i try to escape from my mental cage,
I ask for you tolerance and understanding,
As i want nothing more than to be Fell running,
I know one day i will break free,
Just stay my friends and have patience with me.

By Herakles.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

Some great poetry today Alf, Herakles and Derby Tup!

The Gift

You brought me mangoes
and set them on my table.
Unprepossessing, thick-skinned,
those hard green fruit.
Only the hint of a blush
suggesting that within.
With quick, deft hands
you pared their bodies
and slitting the wet, orange flesh
you unleashed the sun
...the moon, the stars...
and how we devoured them,
lips sticky from their juice,
tasting the sweetness
that we once thought
we would never taste
again.

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Crikey Hes, there's more than a hint of a blush here interpreting the metaphor, or is it just me! And before the 9 o'clock watershed too! First-class poem mind you.:)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Alf

Snow, snow here again.
I would rather have the wind and rain.
Those two elements are soon gone.
But snow tends to linger on.
Snow's slippy when you run and wet and cold.
The young may love it but not the old.
Go snow so I can run without fear
If you must return then make it next year!


Alf
(Heavily influenced by William McGonagall :D)

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nice one alf...no snow here just rain and lots of it! ....herakles i have enjoyed yoour offerings today i see you are on a roll again! order is restored!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

Some great poetry today Alf, Herakles and Derby Tup!

The Gift

You brought me mangoes
and set them on my table.
Unprepossessing, thick-skinned,
those hard green fruit.
Only the hint of a blush
suggesting that within.
With quick, deft hands
you pared their bodies
and slitting the wet, orange flesh
you unleashed the sun
...the moon, the stars...
and how we devoured them,
lips sticky from their juice,
tasting the sweetness
that we once thought
we would never taste
again.

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Well, I am speechless, this pushes all the right buttons for me Hes, utterly gorgeous and sensous and Mossy it wasn't only you who had that interpretation!........i think this may be the defnition of fruitiness! (sorry!!!)

Dissociative mundane


Standing,
placing creases in a skirt,
one by one,
with a hot iron.


A long day draws to a close
are they your hands
slipping around my waist?
wet imprints of a necklace .
Feint scent of your travail
is upon me
and the promise
in my minds eye
of legs upon legs.
Ensconced on the sofa
exchanging tales
inbetween velveteen berries.
"Glad I got those miles in" you say
I knead your toes and notice
imprints of fatigue in your eyes.


“Can you get me some juice ma?”
You’ve vanished
I move the iron out of danger.

NO TWA for me
Pneumonia put paid to that:(
Anni Waltz instead:)