Today's poet

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Originally Posted by tri-mind

Thanks everyone.Anybody doing anything exciting today ?. Oh and i think the t-shirt ideas sound brill.

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Hi Tri, I'm teaching printmaking classes later. Monday is always a long day but I'll try and do some hill reps in between the afternoon and evening class as it is at Pateley Bridge and there are some killer hills out of the town.:)

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Originally Posted by neil wootton

Was this a poem before it was a song because if not, this piece of writing for me challenges the opinion held by some famous writers that songs don't stand up to the same critical gauge as poetry.
I'm going to collect tickets for a Carol Anne Duffy reading this afternoon; details on Keele University Website

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I am very envious! Hope you enjoy it Neil.

Talent by Carol Ann Duffy

This is the word tightrope. Now imagine
a man, inching across it in the space
between our thoughts. He holds our breath.

There is no word net.

You want him to fall, don't you?
I guessed as much; he teeters but succeeds.
The word applause is written all over him

wily Grey Heron
glides over oily Wharfe
on frosty morning


Black-tailed Godwit
probes mudbanks by receding
tidal River Axe

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Originally Posted by Derby Tup

wily Grey Heron
glides over oily Wharfe
on frosty morning


Black-tailed Godwit
probes mudbanks by receding
tidal River Axe

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Gorgeous DT, especially the heron one. These could double up on the Today's Wildlife thread!

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Originally Posted by Derby Tup

wily Grey Heron
glides over oily Wharfe
on frosty morning


Black-tailed Godwit
probes mudbanks by receding
tidal River Axe

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Frustrated great tit*
browses forlornly in Leeds
remembering the hills from yesterday

I suspect that f**kwit would have worked too :D

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Originally Posted by Stolly

Frustrated great tit*
browses forlornly in Leeds
remembering the hills from yesterday

I suspect that f**kwit would have worked too :D

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bebooteed runner
daydreams of Ingleborough
and mighty Whernside

;):p:D

No song left to sing.

One last hurrah,
One last song left to sing,
Make sure i know the words,
I should do they've run through,
Me a thousand times.

The audience quiets,
At the most important time i blow it,
Forgot the words of my own song,
Ridiculous like life i'm gone.

By Matt Harmston.

Poet {No More} or Where i find my inspiration {Thoughts of my Death}

Saying up all night no sleep,
No more words left to write,
I try to go within myself so deep,
But everything that comes out is trite.

Its drivel,nonsense an plain old rot,
My life will resume it's dull fractured path,
I think to myself is that all i've got,
Time for the razor blade and hot bath.

Then it comes to me whilst i bleed,
Poetry of such power and morbidity,
Wrote in blood for all to read,
Whilst i shuffle off into eternity.

By Matt Harmston

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Originally Posted by neil wootton

Was this a poem before it was a song because if not, this piece of writing for me challenges the opinion held by some famous writers that songs don't stand up to the same critical gauge as poetry.
I'm going to collect tickets for a Carol Anne Duffy reading this afternoon; details on Keele University Website

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I think it was written as a song if I remember correctly what I read last night. Some lyrics work as poems and others don't so well I find. I post them now and again on here if I feel they are poetic, and often people don't notice, so that must say something.

The Carol Anne Duffy reading I bet will be great. Hope you enjoy it.

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Originally Posted by Derby Tup

wily Grey Heron
glides over oily Wharfe
on frosty morning


Black-tailed Godwit
probes mudbanks by receding
tidal River Axe

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Very nice DT, especially the line "glides over oily Wharfe".

Slick :cool: