Today's poet

[Harry H Howgill]

So HHH could you pen a poem with so many 'unauthorized' expletives that it's censored effectively into a line of 'stars'? Now there's a challenge! I wonder what's on the banned list?

You are just trying to get me into trouble Mossy!

[Derby Tup]

Still hanging on thanks. I poked it with a screwdriver and a couple of cotton buds and now it has stopped sounding like a hovercraft.

I think that is good. No?

No need for the ice-packs tonight Harry?

[Harry H Howgill]

Is it ust my mind or could that read as an extremely rude metaphor?...........perhaps its becuase I have been reading bukowski tonight

YES IT IS YOU!

But now you mention it!

[freckle]

YES IT IS YOU!

But now you mention it!

Tee hee!.........apologies to the faint hearted who might be reading this thread!...

[Harry H Howgill]

No need for the ice-packs tonight Harry?

Not yet thanks. My laptop has stopped melting tonight. But they are on standby.

[Harry H Howgill]

Tee hee!.........apologies to the faint hearted who might be reading this thread!...

We've had much much worse I'm sure!

Drumroll for X-Runner.............

[freckle]

I really like Carol Ann Duffy but its difficult to get a hold of her poems on the web, she must have done a good job withthe copy right...this means I have had to type out the following...so i hope you enjoy it as much as i did!....

The Light Gatherer

When you were small, your cupped palms
each held a candlesworth under the skin,
enough light to begin,

and as you grew
light gathered in you, two clear raindrops in your eyes,

warm pearls, shy,
in the lobes of your ears, even always
the light of a smile after your tears.

Your kissed feet glowed in my one hand,
or I'd enter a room to see the corner you played in
lit like a set,

the crown of your bowed head spotlit.
When language came, it glittered like a river,
silver, clever with fish,

and you slept
withthe whole moon held in your arms for a night light
where I knelt watching.

Light gatherer. You fell from a star
into my lap, the soft lamp at the bedside
mirrored in you,

and now you shine like a snow girl,
a buttercup under a chin, the wide blue yonder
you squeal at and fly in,

like a jewelled cave,
turquoise and diamond and gold, opening out
at the end of a tunnel of years.


I think her evocation of unconditional love in this poem (for her daughter) is breathtakingly moving....one can see why she is the poet laurete

[Mossdog]

It has just been fun I think, somewhere to hang out and be positive together. It is good chosing other's well chosen words to express yourself, and great to have a go ourselves without fear. There is a poem for every occasion.

The FRA even gets a mention in this one.

Mark Alexander Boyd.
1563–1601
Sonnet

FRA bank to bank, fra wood to wood I rin,
Ourhailit with my feeble fantasie;
Like til a leaf that fallis from a tree,
Or til a reed ourblawin with the wind.
Twa gods guides me: the ane of tham is blind,
Yea and a bairn brocht up in vanitie;
The next a wife ingenrit of the sea,
And lichter nor a dauphin with her fin.
Unhappy is the man for evermair
That tills the sand and sawis in the air;
But twice unhappier is he, I lairn,
That feidis in his hairt a mad desire,
And follows on a woman throw the fire,
Led by a blind and teachit by a bairn.

Thas FRAkin' Goad Thas tis

[Harry H Howgill]

That is brilliant. I've had the same problem before, so I'm glad you went to the effort.

I really like Carol Ann Duffy but its difficult to get a hold of her poems on the web, she must have done a good job withthe copy right...this means I have had to type out the following...so i hope you enjoy it as much as i did!....

The Light Gatherer

When you were small, your cupped palms
each held a candlesworth under the skin,
enough light to begin,

and as you grew
light gathered in you, two clear raindrops in your eyes,

warm pearls, shy,
in the lobes of your ears, even always
the light of a smile after your tears.

Your kissed feet glowed in my one hand,
or I'd enter a room to see the corner you played in
lit like a set,

the crown of your bowed head spotlit.
When language came, it glittered like a river,
silver, clever with fish,

and you slept
withthe whole moon held in your arms for a night light
where I knelt watching.

Light gatherer. You fell from a star
into my lap, the soft lamp at the bedside
mirrored in you,

and now you shine like a snow girl,
a buttercup under a chin, the wide blue yonder
you squeal at and fly in,

like a jewelled cave,
turquoise and diamond and gold, opening out
at the end of a tunnel of years.


I think her evocation of unconditional love in this poem (for her daughter) is breathtakingly moving....one can see why she is the poet laurete

[Mossdog]

This is rather sweet and, yes, uplifting


GLYN MAXWELL


Stargazing

The night is fine and dry. It falls and spreads
the cold sky with a million opposites
that, for a moment, seem like a million souls
and soon, none, and then, for what seems a long time,
one. Then of course it spins. What is better to do
than string out over the infinite dead spaces
the ancient beasts and spearmen of the human
mind, and, if not the real ones, new ones?

But, try making them clear to one you love —
whoever is standing by you is one you love
when pinioned by the stars — you will find it quite
impossible, but like her more for thinking
she sees that constellation.

After the wave of pain, you will turn to her
and, in an instant, change the universe
to a sky you were glad you came outside to see.

This is the act of all the descended gods
of every age and creed: to weary of all
that never ends, to take a human hand,
and go back into the house.