Thanks for posting everyone, I'm looking forward to reading all the latest poems next time

Boom a tish


Boom a tish
bobbly dobbly
sillily bibbily
grollickly molisley


(Friday, sometimes, nice to be randomly versed)

Thoughtful and insightful poetry Izzy. Do you feel you have changed in any way since writing your poetry from that time to now?

Two very different poems -


I’m OK, You’re OK

Sitting
in my usual place
in the circle

throwing out
the rotting ghosts
and spooks
of the past
for the others
to peer at
pick over
with a glint
of satisfaction.

There’s
the skewed form
of my father
- look –
turn him over with a stick,
can you tell what made him tick?
What do those white pebble eyes
say to you?

Tell me
what you think –
I really want to know
the truth.

And here’s
the shored-up fragments
of my mother –
what do you make of her?
an evil sow?
or flawed saint?

She’s here
for your delectation,
your pathological dissection

- now tell me something –
I don’t know.

Yes,
they did that to me
and theirs before
did that to them

they tried their best
with what they knew
(forgive them for they know not what they do)
and so on & on & on . . .

Lay off ‘the bleedin’ obvious’
lay off the insults
the calm
the obvious
connections
the words caught in a book.

Lay off me
off me
while I smile
sweetly
and nod my head.

And I note them all
- and note them all –

and when it’s their turn –

you were deprived
you were hated
unwanted
despised
an inconvenient blip
on their lives

and so how does that feel?

And you know what?
an explanation doesn’t heal.

It may explain
- a little –
but you
were never loved
or understood –

abused
and used
a mask
to cover their inadequacies.

A social necessity
the expected thing.

Yes –

I’ll tell you how it is –

you’ve chosen to live with the past
in your present
your trophy scars scarcely cover
a wallowing amongst
the grit-skin of the dead
your eyes fixed ahead
so keen to prise your way
into the spread of other people’s lives.

I’ll twist the knife
a full round
and make your life’s worth
a shadowless reflection
of the corpses
scattered pile-high
in our midst.





Lost In The Snow

The snow falls as white as feathers,
Drifting lazily all around,
And the ice on the pavement is as glittery
As diamonds on the ground.

My breath, as thick as cloud,
Hangs frozen in the air
And the cold nips my nose
Like fingers that are not there.

Then the dark settles, thick as a blanket,
Changing everything I see.
I’m now in a strange land,
All there is, is the snow and me.

As lonely as an Arctic explorer
I feel far away from home,
Lost in a world of whiteness,
Cold and all alone.

My feet sink into the snow,
The cold holds as tight as a claw,
I’m frightened and I’m lonely,
Trapped, frozen, raw.

Home seems so far away,
As distant as a memory,
Buried in the drifting snow
With all my family.

Through valleys of ice,
Over glacial flow,
somewhere, yet nowhere,
A world lost in snow.

But then, around a corner,
I catch a familiar sight,
It’s my home, my long lost home,
Magical, frozen in white.

And as I walk inside,
My home is as warm as a hug
And I close my eyes tight,
Found, safe and snug.

Hi scottie, I particularly like these three verses of your poem. Lost and found, there must be a kind of relief to be home and even more so, to be greeted by a familiar feeling, where you can rest and feel everything will be ok but without all the stuff that may be bothersome.

Thank you. In small ways perhaps but not a great deal, no.

I just wrote this today - I know my pieces tend to be quite repetitive but people have encouraged me to keep writing *shrug*

Whats Right?.

So much choice
so little direction,
no sense of assurance
as to whats right for you.
How do you stay balanced,
forge ahead towards the goal unknown,
with all that exists, decisions constantly confuse,
whats right for them isn't necessarily for you.
Walking on eggshells,
or so it may seem,
who is it your trying to please?.
Perceptions can weigh you down,
the fear of ridicule rules supreme,
so once again I question what matters most -
Should I fear the judgements felt inside?
if you only show that which you feel others approve of,
can you still be true to you, or are you simply prolonging self suffocation?
who writes the rules and ultimately is the penalty found
in adhering to them too closely?.

A funny poem with a good twist at the end Mrs Goto - there's a few neighbours I'd like to do that to

An epic that sums up the embarrassment of oldies at parties - I enjoyed this rock reference too

There's a lot of wisdom and good advice in this poem Izzy

A simply beautiful poem Scottie

I read recently that 'an adult is a depleted child' - a view I agree with. This poem makes the same point very well.

A very moving piece Izzy

This reminded me of Larkin's 'They **** you up, your Mum and Dad'.

Two more intriguing efforts Scottie

Keep 'em coming Izzy, I enjoy all your poems

You don't think their too cheesy? thanks

Night Visit

On the window lightly
Came a tap, tap, tap,
Fear rose in me slightly,
What made that soft rap?

Red eyes for a second
Glowed and fangs were bared,
Deathly-white he beckoned,
Full of hate he stared.

Gone, but still each lingers
Like a dark bloodstain:
Nosferatu's fingers
On my window pane.


©

No, definitely not!

And even if I did (which I don't) I like cheese

Words by the BeeGees

That's good to know ok well I wrote this last night as well:-

What Awaits by IzzyS

Look up at the sky
what do you see?
sun shining bright,
heat radiates, light flows
and hope awakes once again.
All around the land, potential is stirring
for those who see and grasp,
carpe diem - for the time is now,
to open your eyes as to what has always been,
your surroundings proudly clear,
all it takes is the clarity of vision
and the strength of determination,
to get out there and experience the beauty that exists,
embrace the world around you, for it is waiting for you.

You've summed up my attitude to life Izzy - such an uplifting write

Thats a good attitude to have thank you.

Garden Glimmers

Once around the dahlias
And twice around the roses,
Fast along the wooden fence
When the daylight closes.

On the lantern by the pond
The faerie rests and poses,
Nobody believes me though
For nobody supposes.


©

You're welcome Izzy