Today's poet

[Nathaniel Lee]

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

[XRunner]

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

[Nathaniel Lee]

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.

[Alf]

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.

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

[Nathaniel Lee]

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.

[Mossdog]

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.

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.

[freckle]

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 )

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!

[freckle]

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.

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!!!)

[freckle]

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.

[stevefoster]

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