Today's poet

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Originally Posted by tri-mind

The Devil In Me.

The night is when it finds me most,
He slips in silently as a ghost,
Every time he eggs me on to do things that are not safe for me.

Daring me to drink,smoke,inject and cut,
Exquisite tortures for me are infinite,
Visage changing when i look in the mirror,
Incarnate evil reflection shows i will deliver,
Love doing this to myself,killing myself ruining my health.

In ecstasy i feel the crimson flow out of me,
Never doubting the moments purity.

My time is done the nurse has seen me in my cell,
Everything goes black i will try it again tomorrow don't tell.

By Matt Harmston

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Wow!....you are brave and talented tri!

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Originally Posted by freckle

Or did it?......as vic reeves would say....ovanuuuuuuuuuuuu ;)

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http://www.poetryinthecity.co.uk/wp-...tt_Wishart.jpg

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

http://www.poetryinthecity.co.uk/wp-...tt_Wishart.jpg

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CLASS HHH...CLASS....Tee Hee!!!!! :D

HENRY SHUKMAN


Snowy Morning

When we were nine or ten and used to play
at dying — hands clasped to the chest,
Goodbye, beautiful world, I love you! —
we didn't believe it could ever really be done.

Say goodbye to everything? A gunshot wound
in 'Alias Smith and Jones' could set us thinking —
please please don't die — or a feathered mess
that had been a pigeon squashed on the road.

Even Divinity class, that final sponge of vinegar
on a speartip. Goodbye, beautiful vinegar.
Now, under the shag of decades, after so much
contact with things, it takes a morning like this.

Snow has fallen, a light crust. On the white field
green trails zigzag where the horses wandered,
a crazy scribble shows where they fed.
There they are now, two statues stooping.

All the ewes are sitting, thawing their grass.
Puddles crunch like caramel. Little snowfalls
crumble down a hedge. The silver-birch
trembles with its own twigs' shadows.

And under the rusty chestnut I walk
through a rain of crystals. There isn't much to say.
This is a day that decides by itself to be beautiful.
This field is a bride. How are we to say goodbye?

Not wrote anything for a while
But every time i have a read it makes me smile

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Originally Posted by freckle

CLASS HHH...CLASS....Tee Hee!!!!! :D

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That is what I have to resist doing most afternoons :)

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Originally Posted by TurboTom

Not wrote anything for a while
But every time i have a read it makes me smile

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Good stuff. That's what we are here for in this little quiet corner of a sweaty forum. :D

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

HENRY SHUKMAN


Snowy Morning

When we were nine or ten and used to play
at dying — hands clasped to the chest,
Goodbye, beautiful world, I love you! —
we didn't believe it could ever really be done.

Say goodbye to everything? A gunshot wound
in 'Alias Smith and Jones' could set us thinking —
please please don't die — or a feathered mess
that had been a pigeon squashed on the road.

Even Divinity class, that final sponge of vinegar
on a speartip. Goodbye, beautiful vinegar.
Now, under the shag of decades, after so much
contact with things, it takes a morning like this.

Snow has fallen, a light crust. On the white field
green trails zigzag where the horses wandered,
a crazy scribble shows where they fed.
There they are now, two statues stooping.

All the ewes are sitting, thawing their grass.
Puddles crunch like caramel. Little snowfalls
crumble down a hedge. The silver-birch
trembles with its own twigs' shadows.

And under the rusty chestnut I walk
through a rain of crystals. There isn't much to say.
This is a day that decides by itself to be beautiful.
This field is a bride. How are we to say goodbye?

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Mossy...time after time after time you post such beautiful, thought provoking posts....please frequent this thread much more often, i actually miss you!.......when your not here that is.....!:)

ALICE OSWALD


Sonnet

I can't sleep in case a few things you said
no longer apply. The matter's endless,
but definitions alter what's ahead
and you and words are like a hare and tortoise.
Aaaagh there's no description — each a fractal
sectioned by silences, we have our own
skins to feel through and fall back through — awful
to make so much of something so unknown.
But even I — some shower-swift commitments
are all you'll get; I mustn't gauge or give
more than I take — which is a way to balance
between misprision and belief in love
both true and false, because I'm only just
short of a word to be the first to trust.



I really like this - I guess a few of us have been here ourselves? :)

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Originally Posted by freckle

Mossy...time after time after time you post such beautiful, thought provoking posts....please frequent this thread much more often, i actually miss you!.......when your not here that is.....!:)

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I quite agree about your posts. Some inspired choices Mossy.