Category / Poetry

by Colette

Fridge Magnet Poetry

fridge_poetry

Sometimes you just need a little bit of inspiration. Image // intercollegiatereview.com

Written by Lilith

in my dreams
I worship the wind
a whispering sea goddess
her ship a gown of spray
her honey sweet beauty
a blue shadow on a pink moon
she stops men

spring is a storm in my blood
like screaming light by a garden of mist
red roses sing together to the rain music
& rust beneath the summer sky

you crushed me
so run away from our symphony
drive deliriously fast
but sleep still
cry less bitterly
& let life’s chant cool your wanting
after all
no lie is sadder than you

An interesting poem from Lilith, which was entirely inspired by magnetic words you can place on your kitchen fridge. Typically, students will play around with these and come up with the filthiest sentences imaginable, but they can also be used to create free form poetry. Fridge Magnet Poetry concludes our freedom and free-spirited themed month, and what a wonderful poem to close on. If you liked Lilith’s creation, check out some of her crafted short fiction such as, ‘Rain Men‘ and ‘Eliza‘.

by Colette

Messages

facebook_graffiti

Do we sometimes like posts that aren’t even worth liking any more? Image // K.Sayer

Written by Elanor Rose

 

We love through likes

furtive dawn messages

hidden in plain sight

like graffiti on London Bridge

or gum stuck under the seat

you say hello and though

there are no discussions of code

I have learnt to decipher

this open invitation

and most graciously I accept.

 

Perhaps if we knew God

we’d sing the same hymns

we’d walk the same pace

and we’d always shoot

arrows from the same place

but instead we’re content

to see names side by side

in passing and by chance

letters embraced by

the thrill of the chase.

 

Elanor Rose’s ‘Messages’ is an interesting poem questioning our daily routines on social networks. You may check your smart phone every morning when you wake and scroll through the latest news on Facebook, Twitter, or the recent photographs of your best friend’s flowers on Instagram. You may like someone’s status, or add them as a friend/follow them on social networks, but do you stop and say hi when walking along the same street? Too often are we like passing ships in the night in stark daylight. But on the flip side, we’re now closer than ever. And Elanor’s poem really hits this nail on the head – and we love it. If you liked Elanor’s poetry, check out some of her others too, such as ‘Sheffield Steel‘ and ‘Video‘. Also, Happy Birthday, Elanor! Have a great day. 

by Colette

One Day At A Time

seeds_graffiti

And then let nature take its course. Image // Aaron Gustafson

Written by Ashcloud

A single seed,
One idea, one aim.
One place to go,
One of a Saint’s name.

The seed surfaced,
Gilt in colour,
Green with promise,
Though sick in pallor.

One day it seems
Every leaf has appeared.
Solitary wisps,
Shivering, scared.

Together they grow.
Together they climb.
They bring life to the tree.
And they cherish their time.

Each bud has blossomed
To the chime of their clock.
Now a niggling sound rings,
in the ear of the flock.

The fruit is gone.
A new seed sown.
Never again,
To be on your own.

We are the leaves.
We must say goodbye.
We must leave the tree,
But if we all try,
Just like the leaves,
We’ll meet again.

And just like the leaves,
We’ll still be friends.

New contributor Ashcloud’s “One Day At A Time” really captures the essence of nature, and how a plant cannot survive without its core body. In a similar vein, Ashcloud’s inspiration for the poem came from finishing secondary school and knowing that life will change. But without all those friendly seeds on her journey, she may have survived, but it wouldn’t have given her the experience she will remember. The poem was also chosen to be read out at her school’s graduation, so congratulations are certainly in order! 

by Colette

Wings

birds_sunset

Some birds fly solo, other like to stick with family. Image // US Fish and Wildlife Service

Written by Rae-Chan

When I was a child I wanted wings like an angel.
I wanted to fly through the sky like a bird.
Wings grant freedom, something I’d craved for so long.
When I was a child, I wanted wings.
I wanted to fly away from my problems and fears.
I wanted to fly so high into the air that nothing could ever reach me.
I wanted to escape into the clouds where I wouldn’t have to be afraid.
I heard stories about beautiful angels that would watch over and protect me.
But none ever seemed to be there.
I couldn’t wait for my guardian angel to notice me.
I had to make my own wings.
I had to be my own angel.
When I was a child, I wanted wings like an angel.
Now that I’m not, I’ve realized I never needed wings.
I just needed the strength to take the first jump into the sky.
I don’t need wings to fly.I don’t need wings to fly.

I don’t need wings to fly.

What we love about Rae-Chan’s “Wings” is how freedom is represented so wonderfully. While many of us have freedom, children are often trapped by their parents rules, while adults are trapped by society’s rules. We long for the day those wings will be rewarded to us. Yet what we don’t realise is exactly Rae-Chan’s end message; we can fly high without them. If you loved “Wings”, make sure you check out Rae-Chan’s poem, “An Ode to Low Self-Esteem“. 

by Colette

Star Talk ii

astronomy_stars

Who can resist? Image // sunsetastronomicalsociety.com

Written by Lost in a Dream

Vacant was I and
vague was the stage.
The canvas of night
smudgy with inky hues,
a natural masterpiece of
Violets, indigos and blues.
The perfume of summer was still
lazing in the air.

The crescent moon
cut through the void above me 
and the stars began to blossom and bloom.

I felt the moon’s ancient gaze
as she painted the old lake silver
and illuminated the birches.
The omniscient stars hung in the sky,
Their smiles, as always, never failing to
enchant the romantic or enthuse the astronomer.

Carried by the whispering wind, 
the stars’ words echo through nature.
Though locked in an obsolete language,
Their fragile, archaic song
offers solace to
the hurt, the misused
the broken and
the confused.

‘Star Talk ii’ is one of Lost in a Dream’s older pieces of poetry, which has since been updated. We thought it was a great piece of poetry and couldn’t wait to share it in our sci-fi special this month. Though we’re not entirely sure where Star Talk i is, or if it even exists, we’re definitely intrigued by the title and the imagery within the piece. If you liked Lost in a Dream’s poetry, make sure you check out some of her other work too, including ‘Masquerade‘ and ‘Parnassus Park‘. 

by Colette

Corporate Hero

Superman_comic

A symbol of hope or corporate greed? Image // DC Comics

Written by Silver

Twentieth-century alien icon,
thrown into our atmosphere of human complexities.

He stands for truth and justice, the ‘American way’.
Purposefully picking primary colours
to portray poignancy and His immensity.
Siegal and Shuster: cartoonists’ imaginations 
sketching their vision of a mythological entity
flying endlessly through the night.
Childhood’s saving grace, an idol
in a world of atrocities.
Sparking adoration in their eyes,
they jump faith-filled from their beds in joy.

They fall.
The age of A&E shepherding adulthood.

Lurking behind His cloak
is a world of monstrous corporate greed.
His comic book face and signature ‘S’
pressed onto mugs, cards, lunch boxes and journals 
in the ‘household’ section of amazon.co.uk.
The Lex Luthor syndrome seeping
into the minds of adults,
with His sign following endorsement trends; 
the costume of commodity fetishism.

This man of steel,
this God in children’s eyes.
Once the epitome of righteousness,
now the commercialised sell-out.
We are damned to disillusionment.
Inundated with prayers He sits
in His ‘Fortress of Solitude’, 
contemplating martyrdom 
but until secularisation of our materialism
He cannot save us from
our sinful corporate hunger.

Silver’s poem ‘Corporate Hero’ was written as part of an assignment at university, and is now considered as an older piece of her work. Despite her adoration for superheroes, Superman in particular, she aims to show how consumerism bubbles into our society – and what once was a symbol of hope for some, quickly turns into a commodity for the people. A political science fiction piece to shake our content up a bit. If you enjoyed this poem, make sure you sit down with a coffee and take a look at ‘Fudge‘. 

by marleylilith

Life, Through a Shot Glass

Written by Bobartles

They're sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it's better than drinking alone.

They’re sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it’s better than drinking alone.

If whiskey ran inside our veins,
and burned away our past,
then maybe we could break these chains
and free ourselves at last.

We’d talk about the good times,
of the way things used to go.
We’d lock our hands in darkened rooms,
and no-one else would know.

With no bad blood to hold us back,
we’d build our lives anew.
In happy times or hardship,
those fires would see us through.

Though silence leaves its bitter stains;
uncertainty and fear,
if whiskey ran inside our veins,
then maybe

you’d

be

here?

Written while the poet was severely sleep-deprived, Life Through a Shot Glass is Bobartles’ way of  looking back on his drunken decisions, good and bad. If you enjoyed this poem please check out Harplands, another beautiful but sad poem from the same pen.

by Colette

Video

Written by Elanor Rose

future_cityscape

What will the future bring? Image // Telegraph

And there, in the midst of it all,

in the palm of my hand,

in among the creases and folds,

(where once I had my fortune told)

was a video. And it flashed red, green.

And it showed me a world,

it showed me a place I had not yet seen

(both unfamiliar and exotic it seemed)

but before long it faded to black

and showed me myself.

 

But I seemed so still and pale.

I thought of turning and twisting,

of staying silent, burning all bridges,

until there were no known fords.

That was not my way.

 

I set the video down dead

and gazed closer at the

head – heart – life

and embraced the fears

once forged by fair hand

and traced them all round until

my index became still

and I had found an end.

 Elanor’s wonderful poem, Video, was written as a reflection on our society’s relationship with technology, with an intense obsession of the future and what we will find, develop and create. Oddly, her inspiration for this particular piece was sitting down to trace the lines of her hand – this was such a simple pleasure, we couldn’t help but choose it in our selection for this month. If you liked Elanor’s writing, make sure you check out her lovely poem, Sheffield Steel. 

by Colette

An Address to the Coconut

Written by Eruantien

coconut_face

Hello…Steve? Wilson? Coco Chanel? Image Courtesy of Genna Marie

So grand is tha’ noble face,
Mighty Baron of the nut race.
There’s nothin’ canst thou not adorn,
and yet be held highest in scorn.

Tha’ makes many a pud so great,
by off’rin’ tha’sen to the steel grate.
Tha milk shall break my fast ‘ere honeydew,
the milk of Paradise shall satisfy but few.

No man, be he Welsh, Cockney or Irish,
shall for tha take o’er much in his tin dish;
for thee, my Portobello belle
I have but one hell,

A swift chop
on the chopping block.

Eruantien specialises in traditional poetry with a light-hearted vibe, and that’s why we love his short poem about a poor coconut. Inspired by a certain fellow named Steve the Coconut – who really was a coconut – while visiting South America, Eru produced this piece on a simple whim. The time spent on it was sparse, but then so is thinking about a coconut. He also suggests he could have been hallucinating while on anti-malaria tablets, whether you believe it or not, we hope you enjoyed the poem! And while you’re here, check out Eruantien’s poem The Tarwarkelion, which tells the tale of Ankou, the Legend of Death.

 

by Colette

Inkblots Poetry Spotlight

ripples_water_leaves

Ripples of the mind…
Image Courtesy of Creative Commons

Written by Blue-Eyed Devil

[I]
One small question tugs at the mind

And I fear that the answer revealed would be bad.

Am I a mad man at play being sane

Or a sane man feigning being mad?

[II]

Still waters sighing

As tears of gods that crash down

Ripples peace of mind.

[III]

Lightning strike thunders.

Staggering, gripping the fists,

Storm too slow to pass.

This small selection of poems were created by one author – our Haiku Hero, Blue-Eyed Devil – but this time we’re mixing up his writing a little by adding in a short poem with two haiku. Don’t worry, you can still sit back and have your brew while we give you a minute to read, ponder and decipher his mad scribblings, but just with a new snazzy title that puts his work in the spotlight. Plus, you wouldn’t really forgive us if we snuck in a short poem with two Haiku and labelled it as “Haiku Selection V”, would you? If you enjoyed this and haven’t checked out his other Haiku, make sure you take a gander at ‘Haiku Selection IV‘.