The
Concrete
Spatial poem
Has varied shapes
Ancient kind of verse
With Traditional Shapes.
Many vague symbolic themes.
From tapers lozenges eggs or spheres
The concrete spatial poem has varied shapes.
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the above is with a Dectina Refrain
Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
This is so tough. ~An Acrostic
~~~~~~~~~~~
This is so tough.
Having spent another lonely day
In living without my Darling girl.
Simply I have to say “I miss you Baby”
I can not care if my words fail to rhyme
See me as I walk around our favourite park
Sitting on the bench beside the lake
Oh I can hardly write for tears in my eyes
Tough as I am. I’m emotionally involved.
Oh people say that I’ll get over it sometime
Usually folk deal with death in many ways.
God knows I did my best to keep you alive.
Heaven is your home .Wishing I could join you.
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Written by Philip
November 11th 2018
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 3:30 AM UTC
To everything there is a season.
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To everything there is a season.
Oh a time for every purpose under heaven.
Exactly a time to be born and a time to die
Virtually a special time to plant and pluck
Even a time to **** and a time to heal
Renovation by breaking down n building up
You know there’s time to weep n one to laugh
There is a time to mourn and a time to dance
Heave n cast away stones n gather together
In time to embrace n a time refrain embracing
Naturally a time to get and a time to lose
Grant y’self a time to keep n one to cast away
Then a time to read poetry and then compose
Have yourself a a time to keep your silence
Eventually finding your time to wisdoms speak
Romancing with a time to love n a time to hate
Experiencing a time of war n a time of peace
In what profit hath he that laboured for God.
Simply for the benefit of the fellowship of man
As I have seen the laborious efforts of men n
Sons of men to be exercised in t’ work they do
Everything made beautiful in God’s good time
Also He hath set the the world in their hearts
So that no man can find out the work that God
Onward from the beginnings unto the end.
Now is the time for All Men to do good in Life.
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Written by Philip.
November 11th 2018.
An Acrostic rendition of To everything there is a season.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC
Tudor Royals. (An Acrostic)
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Tough times the Tudor King endures
Undecided on his bold armorers
Due to hots for miss Anne Boleyn
Ordered aside the maid of Aragon
Removed poor Anne’s head for Darling Jane
Rare son to Jane but childbirth was a pain
On death we see the shrewdest Ann o Cleaves
You know they didn’t get on or consummate
A fifth in Katherine Howard a **** for sure.
Lost her head , took Kath Parr to bed
Six was five too many for a King named Henry
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Written by Philip.
November 10th 2018.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
The forgotten prisoner.
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Trapped for years on end.
Confounding rhyme.
Prisoners of a scan,
That won’t come right.
It’s haunted me for too long
Now it’s time.
To admit to a defeat,
May seem a crime .
While wrong,
Perhaps ?
I’ll get it right next time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
31/10/2007.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 7:36 AM UTC
I think I am the cat’s pyjamas
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I think I am the cat’s pyjamas
Today and each and every day I’m told.
Halos hanging in my wardrobe tell me so
I think I am the cat’s pyjamas.
Not just an ordinary pair for an alley cat.
Know that I am a modest cat. It must be true
I think I am the cat’s pyjamas
And I will explain to you the clever things I do
My mummy cat try’s to curb my vanity
Though I think I am the cat’s pyjamas
Have you ever seen a cat writing poetry ?
Extra special pedigree cat’s can do this !
Can’t you see I am the cat’s pyjamas
And writing is my forte. It is my cloak.
Though I sleep every night with my beliefs
See I believe I am the cat’s pyjamas
Pyjamas of the finest Indonesia silk.
Yes in hues of pinks and vivid purple
Justification I am the cat’s pyjamas
And my modesty is known far and wide.
My goodness I am such a splendid Tom.
And to finalise know I am the cat’s pyjamas
See she told me last night so it must be true.!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 10th 2018.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
There but for the grace of God go I.
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There but for the grace of God go I.
Having reached the age of six n seventy
Eagles of the sea have taught me to fly
Rich rewards await if you reach a land o plenty
Expectations under wraps but you have to try
By loving and giving the passport to nobility
Unless you keep a faith you’ll never know why
There but for the grace of God go I
Fortune favours t’ brave my Daddy w’ so wise.
On those winter nights he reads to my delight
Rubicon of literary giants was my prize.
The works o’ Rudyard Kipling kept a boy alive
Hidden hero’s mentoring a child with a desire
Every Sunday church attend all were s’advised
Granted there but for the grace of God go I
Running clear of all the gangs Im traumatised
Atheists n sinners ridiculed looking in my eyes
Call yourself a Christian ?Well we are amazed
Even with such provocative faith held for years
On life threatening occasions it never wavered
Faith holds the key as friends fail to survive
Gladly ,there but for the grace of God go I
Oh grant me that grace to be of your PA
Diligence and devotion t’ serve you all my days
God channeled me my words for love of man
Only wish to perpetuate the joy of poetry.
In an age.When fake news is everywhere .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 10th 2018.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 11:58 PM UTC
The weekends are definitely the worst
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The weekends are definitely the worst
Having got thru the last five lonely days
Experiencing the life of a single man
Well baby it’s not fun. I so miss you.
Even though I have a free reign in everything
Everyday the freedom to explore new things
Kind people tell me each n every day heals
Even though the weekends are definitely worst
Notwithstanding , it’s only 8 weeks since you
Died in my arms on that Saturday morning.
Saturday’s have become a dark day for me
As I miss you babe, reciting my poetry to you
Reciting the entreaties I wrote of togetherness
Every day I spent with you were happy days
Days filled with mutual and unconditional love
Even as we gave each other everlasting love
Failing to ever take death into consideration
I think the weekends are definitely the worst
No as I lay here in my very lonely apartment
And watching happy people enjoying life
They act as if they think nought has happened
Even if they do know and display condolences
Like it’s a band-aid over to mend my sad heart
You know Baby that I will never get over you.
The weekends are definitely the worst
Having made recompense to your children
Experiencing the slow ostracism death brings
Weekdays can be filled with many things to do
Only reaching Saturday...I crash land burnt out
Remembering that tragic day of all days.
So my Darling I sit and write my poetry.
The weekends are definitely the worst
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 10th 2018.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
The long and winding road. (4)
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The long and winding road.
Have you any idea what it’s like driving here
Especially in the desert hundreds of miles
Long distances never agreed with me,driving
Or did I want to take this trip in the first place?
Not ‘til my Daughter called me three days ago
God knows who she got tied up with this time
After all we did for her .. sent her to boarding
Nine years old. Yes I guess that was so young
Didn’t see her much for the next seven years
When she left home at sixteen. Now she’s 20
I never heard from her till now...? Oh dear.
No doubt she won’t recognise me I’m aged.
Divorced her mother three years last week
I sit at home all day writing poetry. It’s a drug
No I can’t stop writing n posting and critiquing
Got divorced ‘cause of that. She hates poems
Rhyming was also a problem , I talk in rhyme.
On Sunday I talk in Biblical phrases. Don’t ask.
A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. !!
Daddy hears you Baby. I’m still on my way. !!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
November 9th 2018.
Episode (4)
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Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 6:57 AM UTC
Respect for the other poets point of view
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Respect for the other poets point of view.
Especially if we talk of poetic justice
Some say you get out of life what you put in
Poetry critique is most important it takes time
Every poem read can be acknowledged with a
Click to the heart or thumbs up icon box.
Though I prefer to give an in-depth comment
For me it pays the fees for my poetic license
Oh I know the other way is quick n sterile
Respect for the other poets point of view.
The work expands to fit the time availability
Hair should be kept on if responding critique
Especially if to you it is rude or offensive
Only sometimes comments r lost in translation
The meaning very different in other ethnicity’s
Hey poets , soften up and use your skills
Establish a system of in depth kind critique
Respect for the other poets point of view.
Poets are human, they have a heart you know
Only oft it’s forgotten behind a non-de-plume
Every poem read is subconsciously brain fed
To the deepest channels of your mind.
Sometimes....Eureka.... it triggers a process.
Processing beautiful poetic verse of others
Oh you do get out of life whatever you put in
I have experience and I know this to be true.
Now my poet friends please mark my words
To have respect for other poets points of view
On a scale of one to ten. Let’s say a ten.
For if you make the time , whatever you have.
Very soon you will become a blooming genius
I know that is the ambition of every poet.
Ethereal guides and Angels follow your efforts
With that in mind, go and be inspired today.
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Written by Philip.
November 9th 2018.
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 8:27 PM UTC