Today's poet

[Sunbeam Alpine]

As usual I'm a bit behind with things - so here is November in Edinburgh from Norman MacCaig (as I continue with my MacCaig phase). Best wishes for 2011.

The night tinkles like ice in glasses.
Leaves are glued to the pavement with frost.
The brown air fumes at the shop windows,
Tries the doors, and sidles past.
I gulp down winter raw. The heady
Darkness swirls with tenements.
In a brown fuzz of cottonwool
Lamps fade up crags, die into pits.
Frost in my lungs is harsh as leaves
Scraped up on paths. – I look up, there,
A high roof sails, at the mast-head
Fluttering a grey and ragged star.
The world’s a bear shrugged in his den.
It’s snug and close in the snoring night.
And outside like chrysanthemums
The fog unfolds its bitter scent.

[Derby Tup]

I love this. Great choice MachGirl!

Another C.P Cavafy poem , not sure how anyone will take this one though , but I like it !

Body Remember

Body, remember not just how much you were loved,
not simply those beds on which you have lain,
but also the desire for you that shone
plainly in the eyes that gazed at you,
and quavered in the voice for you, though
by some chance obstacle was finally forestalled.
Now that everything is finally in the past,
it seems as though you did yield to those desires ―
how they shone, remember, in the eyes that gazed at you,
how they quavered in the voice for you ― body, remember.

[Mossdog]

Something for any fell poets planning on a New Year return to fitness

Health Fanatic


Around the block - against the clock
Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock
Running out of breath - running out of socks
Rubber on the road... flippety flop
Non-skid agility... chop chop
No time to hang about
Work out health fanatic... work out!

The crack of dawn he's lifting weights
His tell-tale heart reverberates
He's high in polyunsaturates...
Low in polysaturates...
The Duke of Edinburgh's award awaits
It's a man's life
He's a health fanatic... so was his wife

A one-man war against decay
Enjoys himself the hard way
Allows himself a mars a day
How old am I - what do I weigh
Punch me there... does it hurt... no way
Running on the spot don't get too hot
He's a health fanatic, that's why not

Running through the traffic jam - taking in the lead
Hyperactivity keeps him out of bed
Deep down he'd like to kick it in the head
They'll regret it when they're dead
There's more to life than fun
He's a health fanatic - he's got to run

Beans greens and tangerines
And low cholestrol margarines
His limbs are loose, his teeth are clean
He's a high-octane fresh-air fiend
You've got to admit he's keen
What can you do but be impressed
He's a health fanatic... give it a rest

Shadow boxing - punch the wall
One-a-side football... what's the score... one-all
Could have been a copper... too small
Could have been a jockey... too tall
Knees up, knees up... head the ball
Nervous energy makes him tick
He's a health fanatic... he makes you sick

John Cooper Clarke

Really enjoyed this DT - if perhaps a bit too close to home though

[MachGirl]

This poem is very personal to me , given to me by someone who has changed my life xx , it's almost magical and makes me happy every time I read it ! Happy New Years eve everyone xxx

Love Tattoo

This is for you.
No, I mean this is for you.
The one whose eyes
I will tattoo on myself
Because you were
The only one
Who can truly see
Our astronomical relationship
With those spiral pupils
That became our universe.
Our love never once held us back
But kept us swag-surfing
On Halley’s Comet
While draping Orion’s belt
Around your neck.
We keep sailing across
The deepest part of our Milky Way
Of watered-down irises.
We wrap Saturn’s rings around your finger
As we escape from this galaxy
Of broken promises,
Transforming us into
Two perfect stars
Made from the interlinking
Of our years drawn together.
We evolve into this
Glorious form of light
That signifies our everlasting
Love.
This is for you.
The one for whom
My mouth is the universal needle,
Inking words of our
Darkness in space
And the rebirth
Of our nearly perfect universe,
Turning my heart into
This worm hole
Where the words
“I Love You”
Were written in celestial lights
That sent us into hyper drive
Through all the asteroids
Of our past ages
That would want to destroy
What we are,
That they can never have,
Giving us that extra push
To where our universe
Came to light.
This is for you.
The one who formed
Our planets based
On the length of
Our love for each other
In our newly formed universe,
Causing the stars
To take shape
And form our names
In constellations so
That our passion and love
Will never be forgotten as this
Galactic tattoo broke stars into
Sequences fabricating our love.

MORTEZ BROCK

[MachGirl]

A sweet little poem ...

HE CARES ONLY
THAT I’M HAPPY


He cares only that I’m happy,
Even were I not with him.
If some seek on the wind love’s traces,
Some seek out the love within.
All my pleasures are his treasures,
Nor does he crave joy alone.
All have claim on his compassion;
No dark soul is on its own.
Giving thus, so naturally,
Each day he lights the love in me,
Like candles on a sunlit stone.

[freckle]

As usual I'm a bit behind with things - so here is November in Edinburgh from Norman MacCaig (as I continue with my MacCaig phase). Best wishes for 2011.

The night tinkles like ice in glasses.
Leaves are glued to the pavement with frost.
The brown air fumes at the shop windows,
Tries the doors, and sidles past.
I gulp down winter raw. The heady
Darkness swirls with tenements.
In a brown fuzz of cottonwool
Lamps fade up crags, die into pits.
Frost in my lungs is harsh as leaves
Scraped up on paths. – I look up, there,
A high roof sails, at the mast-head
Fluttering a grey and ragged star.
The world’s a bear shrugged in his den.
It’s snug and close in the snoring night.
And outside like chrysanthemums
The fog unfolds its bitter scent.

"I gulp down winter raw"...nice line...hope you are well SA, are you simonsiding tomorrow?

Machgirl-some lovely romantic choices and really liked the body poem, good stuff!

[MachGirl]

Hi Freckle xxxx hope everything O.K and thankyou xxxxxxxxx Decided to post some poems that were heart-felt and fresh rather than the ones pulled from depths of despair ....... I think sometimes we all need a little positivity and to read something that makes you believe ! Trying to find one for you xxxx

[Mossdog]

Obelisk


I do believe I was never loved. I
was never loved. An outright blasphemy,
saying so point-blank and out of the blue,

an observation I wanted to make,
maybe too obvious to bother with,
or a bagatelle—too banale to tell—

one little beauty who was never loved,
as blue as a bag lady and as black
as the occupant of an oubliette,

maybe an octopus but not of bliss.
I was blame-emblazoned, my obloquy,
and as bellicose as an obelisk,

as black as a sack, as sick as a sock,
this blah-blah-blah, the soul of lullaby.
Obliteration, that old oration,

blanketing my blue soul, my blue, my soul.
I gave you this oblation to belief,
or maybe obviating disbelief,

and not a ball—no, never a ballet.
I gave you my bold hope, my openness,
as oblong as a long embattled day,

I got a bellyful, I got a beaut—
not to be oblique: a banana fish.
You know you blasted me a round of blanks.

But after all, what was believable
if not my own blue soul on a black day,
when all the beloved were so blasé.

Sarah Arvio

[freckle]

[QUOTE=Mossdog;383627]Obelisk


But after all, what was believable
if not my own blue soul on a black day,
when all the beloved were so blasé.

beautiful choice Mossy, albeit very sad....a nice antidote tho....

[Alf]

Hi again , sorry about this

I just wanted to mention to Alf , I read Thomas Gray's "Elegy written in a country churchyard " following your comment regarding similarities in one passage with Anais Nin "Risk" poem , very lovely poem .... glad I read .. so thankyou !

Happy New Year Fell Poets !

Thanks for that MachGirl, its a long poem so I have never posted it here but has some memorable verses taken in isolation as well. On the churchyard theme I was recceing the Haworth Hobble race route yesterday which takes you through Haworth where Emily Bronte is buried and also through Heptonstall where Sylvia Plath is buried.

The Night Is Darkening Round Me

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow ;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow ;
The storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below ;
But nothing drear can move me :
I will not, cannot go.

Emily Bronte