Such a true image Frank. I'm shocked by the amount of mobile phones I see around me No-one seems to look up any more, even on bright sunny days. I shall never own one - mobiles go against everything I treasure, though I accept they're vital for some people.

Great write

meeting in the forest

All their good
Advice was quite in vain,
No-one could
Persuade, warn or explain,
So she stood
Here at the forest lane.

Calmly told
Herself that there were no
Hags of old
Or goblins lying low,
As she strolled
A full moon hung aglow.

From the track
No branch induced her fears;
Trees that pack
Together, bent by years,
Gnarled and black
Like limp distorted spears.

Then the sound,
A greeting in the night,
She looked round
To see a welcome sight;
Glad she found
A man who travelled light.

How absurd
To meet someone and doubt,
Every word
Of their chat bounced about
Till she heard
God's midnight bells ring out.

Twelve faint clangs,
The distant church in range
Sparked his pangs,
She watched him start to change;
Teeth now fangs
That glistened long and strange.

Piercing her
Bright yellow eyes appeared,
Growing fur
As smooth skin disappeared,
Mind a blur,
She fled the thing she feared.

Gave chase soon,
The thud of gaining paws,
'Neath the moon
Hot breath and razor claws,
This lagoon,
This woodland knew his jaws.

Tripped a bit
Then fell caught in his mesh,
Screaming fit
To die, into her flesh
Deep he bit
To taste meat young and fresh.

No escape,
Her form was crimson-toned
Like the cape
Red Riding Hood once owned,
Mouth agape,
For help she weakly moaned.

Hungry there
The half-wolf forest beast
Gorged with care
Until he dragged his feast
To his lair
And light grew in the east.


©

A blinding horror fantasy poem Musty.

Tremendous imagery here.

Quite wonderful writing.

Thanks very much Troy I find horror's more effective when it's realistic and with creatures like this I try hard to make them come alive.

I knew I'd be hiding behind the sofa to read that. I'm not going wandering in any forest from now on.

LOL There's a country road near me that resembles the one in the poem Biz. It's lovely by day, but at night....

turquoise dreams

Abscond from where fools hurry
Then journey to the bay,
There is no need to worry;
Here dreams of turquoise lay.

Regard the shoreline's magic,
Doomed galleons foundered here,
Although their ends were tragic
Don't shed a single tear;

For mariners are calling,
They want to pass the key,
Where rising tides are falling
Step softly in the sea.

As you drift lower thinking
With no regrets to keep
You'll notice after sinking
A building in the deep.

A place with no disturbance,
A temple you shall find,
By King Poseidon's servants
Created and designed.

A woman waits there for you
Unlike the ones above,
She's ready to adore you
And knows the sea of love.

Surrender to an ocean
Where turquoise dreams are bliss,
Where chambers of devotion
Contain the mermaid's kiss.


©

Ah yes! Nothing wrong with beautiful dreams, but readers beware, this tantalizingly enchanting tale is just a fantasy.

Oh! and the water's freezing.

Rajah was a knowing old Indian fellow
Tough of hide but soft inside and mellow
Now the oldest inhabitant in the city zoo
Not just an elephant but a showman too
Rajah’s bun juggling was of much renown
On a diet of peanuts and Charlie Brown

Brilliant Musty, wonderful use of imagery, allusion and as always a fascinating subject.





Incidentally Musty, on a psychedelic theme, I recently received the box set called Circus Days, an eclectic collection of British minor Psych gems from 1966-early 70s.

Well worth a listen.

It was warm when I went there Biz

I'm glad you liked the poem Troy That's sounds like a fascinating release, I'll check it out on Amazon. I have an album called Midsummer Night Dreams which covers 1966 to '69. It has tracks by lesser known psychedelic bands like The Misunderstood, Kaleidoscope and The Idle Race, as well as some by the Troggs and The Move. I'm sure that the Romantic poets would have loved this type of music.

A clever sketch of a now questionable form of entertainment Frank

I cannot lie
I feel it building up inside
It is not a phase
Not a lie

It is me
Like my soul
It is intertwined
With my heart and brain

This is true
It can’t be changed
My heart beats a separate tune

I am no different,
I’m no freak
We are but the same
In all but one

We march a different tune
But they’re not incompatible
We can move together
Forever?

We’re from different ages
You’ll never understand
I don’t mind

Just don’t falter
Just don’t move
Stay with me now
I am no different

So what do you say,
Mum ?


It's pretty bad but it is only my second attempt so any advice would be welcome

I don't think your ode is bad at all Daznov I like poems with a twist and this has a good one, not revealed until the end. I read the piece again and enjoyed it in a different way knowing what it was about. The only thing I'd point out is a slight case of repetition. While the word 'but' is very useful in poetry, you have three of them close together ( see my quote ). Now I always check my notes for repeated words; in the early days I never thought of doing that. 'Yet' is a good alternative for but

Thanks for posting a great poem!

You hit the nail on the head there, daznov. Unconditional love is the commitment of motherhood come what may.

Thanks, I think the use of the yet could come in quite useful at points as you mention. I'll defiantly keep an eye on repetition, thanks.

I totally agree

That album must be deleted now Musty, can't seem to find it anywhere although I probably have several of the tracks on it already.

Here is a site that deals with British psychedelic music from that era, worth checking out.



http://www.marmalade-skies.co.uk/

All human empires' glory wanes
As certain as the monsoon rains
Try to find any of the British Raj
Yet lovers' love over all sustains
Enshrined forever in Agra's Taj
There see heart's undying power
Sweet love that will never sour

Built to last unlike a lesser grave
The Taj Mahal immortality gave
In memory of a departed amour
Her emperor then of grief a slave
His temple of love would endure
As ephemeral empires in turn fell
Mumtaz's tomb cast an eternal spell

Unending queues in a daily process
Drink full from this well of tenderness
Not just impelled by a tourist's duty
But in thrall to this paragon of beauty

Waves.

Like a land loving creature floating in a pond.
Thinking of the future. Of what lies beyond
is like drowning in sorrow. If only we knew.
It's the long day tomorrow and many a clue
points to realisation, not too far from now,
some contemplation and... Holy Cow!

So so long, breaker breaker, now over to you.
If I'm not mistaken whatever you do
will be fair and forthcoming
of long term duration.

Now please, excuse me,
I must catch my station.

Thanks for that Troy, I've been having a good read there

I find 'iconic' is an overused word, but that's what the Taj Mahal truly is. Great write about the place Frank

More fascinating imagery Archiver. Please keep them coming, I always enjoy your poetry as I do Frank's

Life got in the way of writing for me again. I'm hoping to post more often from tomorrow.

I enjoyed that bit of history, Frank. If I ever knew the story I'd completely forgotten it - I just remember Princess Diana posing in front of it.


I would have posted last night, archiver, but I was waiting for Musty to give a clue. I think you were on the train and day-dreaming about life...................?


Sorry to hear that, Musty.

Ta very much...

Here is another short ditty just for you...

Musty must, Musty did, Musty came and conquered.
Not with a Gun or waving flag not e'en for spoils of war.
He came with pen and cap in hand to wage
his war with words.

He rose with prose and soared the web.
He wrote with words of splendor.
So all men might know the poets lair is
still a place to ponder.
©



I

Can I say....I love it? I LOVE IT

Chavtown in the sun

The vegetables are coming,
From alley to parade
Prepare for mindless slumming:
A ghetto's being made.

They're not really the have-nots,
Nor are they quite the haves
And yet they seem to have lots,
These unrepentant chavs.

The town was once so pretty,
Well-tended, spick and span
But now it's such a pity
It's going down the pan.

You're welcome here, the door is
Wide open unlike none,
Come witness all the glories
Of Chavtown in the sun.

No beauty, no respecting
Of peace for in these zones
The ugly spend time texting
And shouting into phones.

They casually drop litter
Oblivious of mess,
Each street becomes a shitter
When no-one could care less.

Of course the main attraction
Is Unemployment Square,
That's where the drinking faction
Hold their beer-swilling fair.

While they've got plastic taverns
Tradition's pubs lie dead,
We've lost old jigs and pavans -
Our Morris dancers fled.

The stench from junk food dinners
Pervades the air and grips,
The smell of hungry sinners;
Hot dogs, kebabs and chips.

Men snubbing fruit and quiches
Who love to show their sweat
Walk pitbulls tied to leashes,
Unmuzzled as a threat.

The women think they're tasty
With brats that scream and bawl,
Contented, fat and pasty,
No exercise at all.

Three sex shops have succeeded,
Though if porn's not for you
And gambling's what is needed
We've four casinos too.

In this downmarket warren
Our council wants to keep
The goods seem strangely foreign
When pound shops sell them cheap.

The bombs on Slough that batter
I wish with all my might
Would drop round here and shatter,
John Betjeman was right.

The weather's bright and balmy
But sadly I must shun
The ignoramus army
And Chavtown in the sun.


©

When I see a skitty kitty cat
Play with string and this and that
I think in heart the wee creature's really at
A hunting apprenticeship in pursuit of mouse or rat
And when its flailing paws in twisting tangle curtain's plait
Pussycat's brain's amidst the undergrowth of grasslands vast and flat
Morphed into a wild lion abroad in Africa - the very overlord - of all big cats in fact
And on this sunny plain or front room floor a ball of wool/zebra's down and out upon the mat.

Oh the poems are all so good, they put me to shame. I especially liked the one about the Taj Mahal and "Chavtown". I think the imagery in Chavtown is really good, you can honestly imagine the men with pitbulls and the "unemployment square".