Today's poet

[freckle]

The outdoor lounge

Running through the rivers multi coloured eye,
posh quayside’s alreet, but
skipping past the thin edge of this watery wedge,
with an idler and his knowing wink,
we sprint uphill, giggling to the summit
of a very urban ascent.

There, a fragment of
(without) time is found
in this the outdoor lounge.
At the centre, our inglenook,
two b-e-a-t-i-n-g drums
enclosed in runners mist.

Two days growth
and 48 hours absence
construct an exquisite dissolve,
as eyes meet eyes and hands
SWEEP over clamminess
in a Byker bone imprint.

Train overhead and the drip, drip
on a bridge daubed with graffiti ,
sweating we share tiny you and I beads,
the hardening of your groin a reminder
of adolescence and TWO
perfectly formed triangles.


But then, a reluctant reality bell chimes
and like forgotten youths we run with pace,
as willing fugitives into the future,
crying
we had and we have
no choice.

[freckle]

That's gorgeous OW. What a lovely image. Very apt for me too as I have just been given an artist's residency working with a museum and art studio on the theme of birds and migration. I'm going to start researching Yorkshire bird folklore so if anyone has any stories...do let me know!

Nice one Hes! well done!

[Old Whippet]

That's gorgeous OW. What a lovely image. Very apt for me too as I have just been given an artist's residency working with a museum and art studio on the theme of birds and migration. I'm going to start researching Yorkshire bird folklore so if anyone has any stories...do let me know!

you're very kind. And DT too for your comments.
What a cracking residency! Does Yorkshire have bird folklore? and is that a stupid question?? I'd fancy a residency under the Tyne Bridge where the Kittiwake's nest. Handy for some good pubs!

[freckle]

you're very kind. And DT too for your comments.
What a cracking residency! Does Yorkshire have bird folklore? and is that a stupid question?? I'd fancy a residency under the Tyne Bridge where the Kittiwake's nest. Handy for some good pubs!

But wouldn't mean that you might get a bit of the ol white stuff on the heed?.......

[Brock]

The outdoor lounge

Running through the rivers multi coloured eye,
posh quayside’s alreet, but
skipping past the thin edge of this watery wedge,
with an idler and his knowing wink,
we sprint uphill, giggling to the summit
of a very urban ascent.

There, a fragment of
(without) time is found
in this the outdoor lounge.
At the centre, our inglenook,
two b-e-a-t-i-n-g drums
enclosed in runners mist.

Two days growth
and 48 hours absence
construct an exquisite dissolve,
as eyes meet eyes and hands
SWEEP over clamminess
in a Byker bone imprint.

Train overhead and the drip, drip
on a bridge daubed with graffiti ,
sweating we share tiny you and I beads,
the hardening of your groin a reminder
of adolescence and two perfectly formed triangles.


But then, a reluctant reality bell chimes
and like forgotten youths we run with pace,
as willing fugitives into the future,
crying
we had and we have
no choice.

This is astonishingly good! I didn't know Newcastle was such a fell runner's paradise. Very evocative and atmospheric.

[freckle]

This is astonishingly good! I didn't know Newcastle was such a fell runner's paradise. Very evocative and atmospheric.

Aye well, there's beauty in urban decay if you look hard enough brock!

[stevefoster]

Aye well, there's beauty in urban decay if you look hard enough brock!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Beauty Is What Beauty Does…

Who would love me…? I ask of you with so many more girls just so beautiful, all of them looking at you, why do you not spend your time with beautiful girls, I am just the plainest of girls not beautiful like the other girls…

Beauty is what beauty does, who says your not beautiful not me my love, why would I want to spend time with other girls, you are the one that rocked my world, no more beautiful girl for me in this world…

Will you just look at me, plain Jane that’s me that’s all that I will ever be, well that’s all right with me, girl what ever your name is, I will still be in love with thee, if of course that’s all right with you, that’s if you still love me too…

You know I do, but that just does not change the facts I am trying to tell you, find your self some pretty girl, I am nothing a nobody in this world…

Listen to me girl, I will never love anyone but you in this world, I don’t care if she is a model or the richest girl, there is but one love for me and it’s you for ever and that’s how it’s going to be, your stuck with me so come and kiss me and we will have no more of this shall we…

andrew mark wilkinson

[Hes]

Some great stuff tonight! Your latest is very evocative Freckle. Nice one. I also liked your choice Merry. I'd better get my act together and post something before I become a voyeur!

[Hes]

Not a poem but a sad song by Suzanne Vega

The Queen and the Soldier

The soldier came knocking upon the queen's door
He said, "I am not fighting for you any more"
The queen knew she'd seen his face someplace before
And slowly she let him inside.

He said, "I've watched your palace up here on the hill
And I've wondered who's the woman for whom we all kill
But I am leaving tomorrow and you can do what you will
Only first I am asking you why."

Down in the long narrow hall he was led
Into her rooms with her tapestries red
And she never once took the crown from her head
She asked him there to sit down.

He said, "I see you now, and you are so very young
But I've seen more battles lost than I have battles won
And I've got this intuition, says it's all for your fun
And now will you tell me why?"

The young queen, she fixed him with an arrogant eye
She said, "You won't understand, and you may as well not try"
But her face was a child's, and he thought she would cry
But she closed herself up like a fan.

And she said, "I've swallowed a secret burning thread
It cuts me inside, and often I've bled"
He laid his hand then on top of her head
And he bowed her down to the ground.

"Tell me how hungry are you? How weak you must feel
As you are living here alone, and you are never revealed
But I won't march again on your battlefield"
And he took her to the window to see.

And the sun, it was gold, though the sky, it was gray
And she wanted more than she ever could say
But she knew how it frightened her, and she turned away
And would not look at his face again.

And he said, "I want to live as an honest man
To get all I deserve and to give all I can
And to love a young woman who I don't understand
Your highness, your ways are very strange."

But the crown, it had fallen, and she thought she would break
And she stood there, ashamed of the way her heart ached
She took him to the doorstep and she asked him to wait
She would only be a moment inside.

Out in the distance her order was heard
And the soldier was killed, still waiting for her word
And while the queen went on strangling in the solitude she preferred
The battle continued on.

[Hes]

riding through darkness
countless icy asteroids
stinging my cheeks

Getting to and from running club is a challenge on a small motorbike but it is all character building stuff! How different to this morning:

so cold and foggy
your car and conversation
keeps me safe and warm