rob - Hello Poetry

Never to dance Is Never to cry Yet Never to chance Is Never to fly Always to wait To Always consider Is Always in limbo Always a dither So Open your mind More open that heart For when life's fully lived Regrets will be sparse.

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Nov 17, 2016

Nov 17, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC

Such careful spontaneity

Never to dance Is Never to cry Yet Never to chance Is Never to fly Always to wait To Always consider Is Always in limbo Always a dither So Open your mind More open that heart For when life's fully lived Regrets will be sparse.

12

So tell me what you want to be And what you think you need of me For what you do You will become As habit makes it part of one For habits grind and clearly shape Rough edges smoothed, some dreams may break Then, from time to time There’s someone who Will melt or break a part of you So once again your shape does change Though it may feel you’re just the same It may take another, looking on To see the shape that you’ve become So maybe that should be my role? Some sort of yardstick of your soul? But then again, I will change too So perhaps we’d better muddle through And focus on the spark inside The flame that undiminished shines And if, as said, that change is certain It will never be the final curtain So embrace the change in me and you And love the flame that shines on through

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Apr 2, 2015

Apr 2, 2015 at 8:13 AM UTC

Changes

So tell me what you want to be And what you think you need of me For what you do You will become As habit makes it part of one For habits grind and clearly shape Rough edges smoothed, some dreams may break Then, from time to time There’s someone who Will melt or break a part of you So once again your shape does change Though it may feel you’re just the same It may take another, looking on To see the shape that you’ve become So maybe that should be my role? Some sort of yardstick of your soul? But then again, I will change too So perhaps we’d better muddle through And focus on the spark inside The flame that undiminished shines And if, as said, that change is certain It will never be the final curtain So embrace the change in me and you And love the flame that shines on through

25

Trickling tingles bubble, goaded from the verdant body As a butterfly’s flutterings coax the flow Widening and filling With a gentle lapping of inlets Ripples tease the reeds into turgid tremors Merging to waves Wave upon wave Curves slide over curves And at the Delta’s swollen, gaping breadth Crests slip over craving crevices Slapping froth in desperate gasps Milking cruel spasms from the urgent need to reach escape Until with turmoil resolved A gentle calm inundates the great ocean of sleep.

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Jun 2, 2014

Jun 2, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC

The River of Eros

Trickling tingles bubble, goaded from the verdant body As a butterfly’s flutterings coax the flow Widening and filling With a gentle lapping of inlets Ripples tease the reeds into turgid tremors Merging to waves Wave upon wave Curves slide over curves And at the Delta’s swollen, gaping breadth Crests slip over craving crevices Slapping froth in desperate gasps Milking cruel spasms from the urgent need to reach escape Until with turmoil resolved A gentle calm inundates the great ocean of sleep.

14

The station Tannoy’s so polite, Train’s here but late; commuter’s plight, Doors opening, pushed to platform’s edge, As the herd of bodies forms a hedge, Will she be there? A gap, way in, a scramble of feet, The desperate scans for a vacant seat, With a jolt and a whine we move away, Packed with the faces of one more day, Did she mean what she said? Past fields and cuttings the city nears, People gaze blankly, no smiles, no tears, Blurred names on platforms pass with a rush, London workers in etiquette’s hush, But where to meet? Slowing through tunnels, lean and rock, Roll under the canopy, groan to a stop, We pour from the doors like arterial bleeding, Swept in the flow, haemorrhaged carriage receding, By the trolley, she’d said Moving fast, with their own motivations, The eddy of souls takes me out of the station, Pull out of the crowd, out of the flow, Onwards they march to the tube lines below But we just hold tight under J.K.’s fake signs, And expression finds space, Between the lines. RD@2009

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May 13, 2014

May 13, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC

Between the Lines

The station Tannoy’s so polite, Train’s here but late; commuter’s plight, Doors opening, pushed to platform’s edge, As the herd of bodies forms a hedge, Will she be there? A gap, way in, a scramble of feet, The desperate scans for a vacant seat, With a jolt and a whine we move away, Packed with the faces of one more day, Did she mean what she said? Past fields and cuttings the city nears, People gaze blankly, no smiles, no tears, Blurred names on platforms pass with a rush, London workers in etiquette’s hush, But where to meet? Slowing through tunnels, lean and rock, Roll under the canopy, groan to a stop, We pour from the doors like arterial bleeding, Swept in the flow, haemorrhaged carriage receding, By the trolley, she’d said Moving fast, with their own motivations, The eddy of souls takes me out of the station, Pull out of the crowd, out of the flow, Onwards they march to the tube lines below But we just hold tight under J.K.’s fake signs, And expression finds space, Between the lines. RD@2009

28

Am I just absurd Or is it inbetween the words That those tiny spaces shout What this relationship’s about The pause before the sigh Or the sparkle in your eye Just before you crack that smile And once more put on the style Of a life that’s just a breeze And your role – of course, to please. For I think it may be true That, inbetween, you feel it too.

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May 9, 2014

May 9, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC

Inbetween the Words

Am I just absurd Or is it inbetween the words That those tiny spaces shout What this relationship’s about The pause before the sigh Or the sparkle in your eye Just before you crack that smile And once more put on the style Of a life that’s just a breeze And your role – of course, to please. For I think it may be true That, inbetween, you feel it too.

12

Five years ago Upon this day For “Training” I did go away To London’s noisy buzzing heart Then after I took in some Art An hour’s stroll around the Tate Came three o’clock and I’d not ate So rang a friend who worked in town “Fancy food?” “Yes! - come on round” “Place nearby at half past four” At quarter past I’m at her door So pasta, chat and many smiles Nice to do once in a while. So Five years pass What comes my way? Refresher training; exact same day My friend had since set up alone Another city, laptop, phone If lunch seemed off, don’t pity me, For strangely synchronicity Means the venue’s somewhere new This course has moved to her town too. So I make the call hoping to see If this five year anniversary Can be repeated as before She agrees, we’ll meet at four. When course is done, I make my way Not noticing it’s damp that day Slip on the path, my arm goes numb And ****** it!”; a broken thumb So instead of chats and smiles and tea I spend the time in “A & E” Rang my friend , “I slipped on grass” With stifled laugh, “You silly **** And the course that damaged me so gravely? A specialist branch of “Health & Safety” :) RD©2014

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May 2, 2014

May 2, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC

The Course, My friend, A thumb and the 21st January.

Five years ago Upon this day For “Training” I did go away To London’s noisy buzzing heart Then after I took in some Art An hour’s stroll around the Tate Came three o’clock and I’d not ate So rang a friend who worked in town “Fancy food?” “Yes! - come on round” “Place nearby at half past four” At quarter past I’m at her door So pasta, chat and many smiles Nice to do once in a while. So Five years pass What comes my way? Refresher training; exact same day My friend had since set up alone Another city, laptop, phone If lunch seemed off, don’t pity me, For strangely synchronicity Means the venue’s somewhere new This course has moved to her town too. So I make the call hoping to see If this five year anniversary Can be repeated as before She agrees, we’ll meet at four. When course is done, I make my way Not noticing it’s damp that day Slip on the path, my arm goes numb And ****** it!”; a broken thumb So instead of chats and smiles and tea I spend the time in “A & E” Rang my friend , “I slipped on grass” With stifled laugh, “You silly **** And the course that damaged me so gravely? A specialist branch of “Health & Safety” :) RD©2014

38

Do you know the world unseen? The one that every human being Takes for granted every day As they go about their work or play For I speak of things like morning mist The flower in the breeze that twists The way some clouds evaporate Or that flake of rust on the old front gate The struggling mum who needs a rest The logo on her child’s vest The smile that means “I noticed you” A kiss that’s meant for no one’s view For all these things are here to see Yet focussed minds just cannot be Sensitive to all that’s there For overload would bring to bear Such cacophony of life’s rich vein That most just choose to see the same. The exceptions, friends, are me and you Who take the time, like poets do. RD©2014

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Apr 30, 2014

Apr 30, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC

The World Unseen

Do you know the world unseen? The one that every human being Takes for granted every day As they go about their work or play For I speak of things like morning mist The flower in the breeze that twists The way some clouds evaporate Or that flake of rust on the old front gate The struggling mum who needs a rest The logo on her child’s vest The smile that means “I noticed you” A kiss that’s meant for no one’s view For all these things are here to see Yet focussed minds just cannot be Sensitive to all that’s there For overload would bring to bear Such cacophony of life’s rich vein That most just choose to see the same. The exceptions, friends, are me and you Who take the time, like poets do. RD©2014

21

A man-made cave of brutal grey Damp and dark on sunlit day Void of what it used to be Yet a thousand souls I seem to see Oppressed I felt I must escape So through narrow door my way I make A few steps more on grassy knoll To sit, and breathe, and take control I stare across the open fields Wide and flat, and Poplar healed I want to write Yet words won’t come For in this place all words are done Upon this knoll, one long past day Were penned the words of John McCrae So instead I ponder field’s banks Fresh turned earth in neat trim ranks And watch the flowers bob their heads With diaphanous petals Of deep blood red. RD © 2014

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Apr 25, 2014

Apr 25, 2014 at 9:02 AM UTC

One hundred years

A man-made cave of brutal grey Damp and dark on sunlit day Void of what it used to be Yet a thousand souls I seem to see Oppressed I felt I must escape So through narrow door my way I make A few steps more on grassy knoll To sit, and breathe, and take control I stare across the open fields Wide and flat, and Poplar healed I want to write Yet words won’t come For in this place all words are done Upon this knoll, one long past day Were penned the words of John McCrae So instead I ponder field’s banks Fresh turned earth in neat trim ranks And watch the flowers bob their heads With diaphanous petals Of deep blood red. RD © 2014

21

I once fell for a poetess A lyricist of songs She alliterated everywhere With such cracking shaped diphthongs!

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Mar 14, 2014

Mar 14, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC

A little ditty for Friday!

I once fell for a poetess A lyricist of songs She alliterated everywhere With such cracking shaped diphthongs!

4

I thought of you the other day Standing ten floors above wet grey streets scoured by gales A drop of rain absurdly climbs the glass Yet I focus someplace far off through the miles of murk. And there, all rush and bluster, eyes flashing, you pull me close into the doorway Your smile just a little crooked , like you weren’t sure you could or should or would….. And then what was is past Now just for a moment I let myself feel And it catches in my heart and makes it ache With the indigestion of something lost And I wonder if you are standing Gazing through some storm soaked pane A drop of rain absurdly climbing your glass I thought of you the other day.

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Mar 13, 2014

Mar 13, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC

Absurd Rain

I thought of you the other day Standing ten floors above wet grey streets scoured by gales A drop of rain absurdly climbs the glass Yet I focus someplace far off through the miles of murk. And there, all rush and bluster, eyes flashing, you pull me close into the doorway Your smile just a little crooked , like you weren’t sure you could or should or would….. And then what was is past Now just for a moment I let myself feel And it catches in my heart and makes it ache With the indigestion of something lost And I wonder if you are standing Gazing through some storm soaked pane A drop of rain absurdly climbing your glass I thought of you the other day.

15