Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Clive Blake Jul 2017
I once had a relation-ship,
But she sailed far away,
Up anchored and set course to find
Another sheltered bay.

Our stormy and tempestuous affair
Had ended, sunk at last,
The current which pulled us apart,
Had run so strong and fast.

She didn't even wave, but left me
At low ebb, high tide,
Her face was stern, my head was bowed ...
My salty tears to hide.

My flag, alas, she flies no longer
From her stately mast,
Our swell affair was present tense,
But sadly now 'tis past.

She left full speed ahead, her sails
A'billowing like a cloud,
If happiness equals silence,
My heartbreak's cannons loud!

I stare from port, my eye on a star,
Bored, like a boat without rudder,
My emotions beached on a lonely shore,
Left to flounder and shudder.

A vessel like her will shore-ly land
Another love-struck fool,
I'm only one fish in a big big sea ...
And her heart is fathoms cool!
Clive Blake Jul 2017
When the wisest man in the world said
"It would be a tragic shame if ever
The Great Forest were to be reduced
To a small clump of trees."
Everyone, without exception, answered
"It certainly would."

So when The Great Forest
Was eventually reduced
To a small clump of trees,
That is what they decided to call it ...
It Certainly Wood.
Eco-Poem:
I think we need more of these!
Clive Blake Jul 2017
STRAIN is pressure on the muscle,
Stress is pressure on the brain,
A culmination of anxieties,
Hard to bear, hard to explain,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

PRESSURE on the muscle, is called strain,
Pressure on the brain, is called stress,
Over exertion of the grey matter,
Cerebral tiredness, mental duress,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

STRESS is pressure on the brain,
Strain is pressure on the muscle,
Symptoms of life's hectic pace,
Attempts to cope, with life's hustle and bustle,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

PRESSURE on the brain, is called stress,
Pressure on the muscle, is called strain,
Perhaps trying too hard to compete,
A desire too strong to attain,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

Don't expect too much from life,
While still always trying your best,
Put your shoulder against the wheel,
The strain in your muscle is real,
But leave all the stress for the rest!
Clive Blake Jul 2017
I’ve found someone who …
I can love forever – I love so much,
Their loving ways, their caring touch,
Will stand by me when times are tough,
Never saying that they’ve had enough.

I’ve found someone who …
Can raise my smile and decrease my frown,
Will help me up when I’m feeling down,
Will make life’s worries melt away,
Providing the sunshine of my day.

I’ve found someone who …
Will always listen, try to understand,
Will guide me with a patient hand,
Will love me both in body and soul,
Making my happiness their main goal.

I’ve found someone who …
Will be both gentle and be kind,
No better soul-mate could I find,
Always willing to talk things out,
Never needing to rage or shout.

I’ve found someone who …
Is willing with me – to share their life,
To make us a team of man and wife,
But most of all - I’ve found a friend,
Here by my side - till my life’s end …
This poem is popular used within a wedding ceremony.
Clive Blake Jul 2017
Jesus lived, and
Jesus died,
Jesus laughed, and
Jesus cried.

Jesus loved, and
Jesus felt.
Jesus stood, and
Jesus knelt.

Jesus heard, and
Jesus thought,
Jesus prayed, and
Jesus taught.

Jesus healed, and
Jesus fed,
Jesus preached, and
Jesus led.

Jesus lived, and
Jesus died,
Jesus is risen, and
He is alive.
Clive Blake Jul 2017
Spring born,
Summer's scorn,
Autumn lost,
Winter tossed.
Clive Blake Jul 2017
Let me sail away forever,
Let me cast off from the shore,
Let the swirling mists engulf me,
Till reality rules no more,
Let me sail the mighty oceans,
Let me pass by cliffs anew,
Let me navigate a passage
Through the rolling veil of blue,
Let my anchor never hold me,
Let my sails always billow out,
Let me sail away forever, and
May I never turn about.
Clive Blake Jul 2017
LICHEN laden, granite cross,
Reminder of a celtic culture’s loss,
An icon to placate a harsh deity,
A religious symbol, an outward plea.

LADEN cross, granite lichen,
Not a mere whim, but a deliberate decision,
Ley-line power, here to focus,
Awaiting another mid-summer solstice.

GRANITE cross, lichen laden,
Sculptured for a dark-haired maiden,
Elaborate and ultimate statement of love,
A prayer for a union to be blessed from above.

CROSS, lichen laden, granite
Manufactured on a far off planet,
Crafted and left to become immortal,
Marker of a time traveller’s portal.
Clive Blake Jul 2017
You would have to
Consider yourself
Colour prejudiced,
If you thought ‘white-lies’,
Were any less damning
Than any other lies.

Lies are the footprints marking
‘The Trail of Deceit’,
As plainly left,
As those by feet.

One lie can spawn
A thousand more,
Can force the truth
To seek the door.

No lies are innocent,
No lies are small,
Lies are best told …
Not at all.
Clive Blake Jul 2017
Even the smallest creature makes ripples,
When it enters Life’s Great Pond,
And those ripples just keep on expanding -
Far, far, far beyond.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
Love and friendship makes
The world go ‘round,
While hatred
Applies the brake.

Let’s pray that love
Will long prevail,
If only for ...
God's sake.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
Another 'Major Improvement' ...
This time it's a road,
Another victim croaks his last,
Goodbye Mr Toad ..!
Mans 'Major Improvements;, might not be viewed as  Major Improvements in nature.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
I heard a noise ...
Could that be food?
I peer outside;
I’m really shrew-d,
My sight is dim,
But I am not,
Though small, I’m fierce,
And hunt a lot,
So stand aside,
I’m coming out,
Don’t bar my way ...
Or I’ll sort you out!
Clive Blake Aug 2017
There's a fence all around me,
It keeps people away,
It gives me space of my own,
It keeps others at bay,
I constructed it myself,
It's the price I must pay.

It goes up for a mile,
While still touching the ground,
People have searched for a way in,
But one has never been found,
It's an impenetrable barrier,
That no sledge hammer can pound.

Does it make me feel claustrophobic,
Or does it make me feel secure,
Once I knew all the answers,
But now I'm not so sure,
Shall I make a hole in my fence,
Shall I fill it with a door?

Here I am stuck
In a defensive retreat,
I once so craved victories,
But I feared more a defeat,
Should I tunnel under my fence,
Should I dig really deep?

Should I stay here in my cocoon,
Or should I go out and explore,
Should I try again to embrace life,
Even though I failed once before,
Shall I cut an hole in my fence,
Need I bother fill it with a door?

My fence was to keep others out,
But it is both friend and foe,
For it also keeps me in,
When all I want is to go,
Shall I place explosives around it
And wait for it to blow?

All right you win, I'm coming out,
Waving a white flag up high,
I hope I fare better this time,
'Cos I'm reaching for the sky,
I'm taking off my lead boots,
This time ... please help me to fly!
Clive Blake Aug 2017
My heart was very battered,
It was also broken,
It had endured so, so, much,
Of which I haven’t spoken.

With your love and tenderness,
My heart pounds once again,
Our hearts now beat together,
And there they shall remain.

Now …
My heart has found its true love,
My heart has found its home,
My heart is yours forever,
My heart is yours alone.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
Meadow quiet,
Meadow sweet,
Meadow flowers
At my feet.

Let me play,
Let me explore,
Let me stay
Forevermore.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
My poetic aspiration
Is to become:
A Jack of all styles
And a master of pun.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
Dear Lord,
Don’t let me ask only for myself,
For problems solved and better health,
Nor ask only for kin and friends,
With minor ills and moral trends,
But make me think in global terms,
Where drought kills and injustice burns,
Please tend to their greater needs first,
Help heal their wounds and quench their thirst,
My patient faith can wait till then,
My prayer sent -
Goodnight -
Amen.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
Morn.

Cockerels
Crow.

Days-
Light
Grow.

Hours
Pass,
Sun
Shone.­

Sunset ...
Reddy,
Steady,
Go,
Gone.

Night,
Black,
Quiet,
Lonely,
Fear
B­orn.

Morn.

Cockerels
Crow.

Days-
Light
Grow ...
Clive Blake Aug 2017
See the owl in swift silent flight,
Surfing the darkness of the night,
In control of its black domain,
Its prey killed quick, no time for pain.

Don’t be outraged when its victim dies;
The owl’s not a mugger of the skies,
No malice shown when it hunts for meat,
It leaves alone what it cannot eat!
Clive Blake Aug 2017
Besotted,
Beloved,
Be brave,
Betrothed,
Be wed.

Be kind,
Be loving,
Be faithful,
Be happy,
Nuff said.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
Mankind seems oblivious
To Nature’s pleading cries,
Mankind seems oblivious
When Nature ups and dies,
Mankind seems oblivious
To its carcass filled with flies,
Mankind seems oblivious
To God’s wrath above the skies.

Man can only think of seeking treasure,
Man can only think of funding leisure,
Man can only think of his own pleasure.

Oblivious to Nature’s sighing,
Oblivious to Nature’s crying,
Oblivious to Nature’s dieing ...
Clive Blake Aug 2017
There was an old wreck-marker from Fowey,
Who had been at sea since he was a buoy,
But when his mooring wore through,
He went where the wind blew,
Ending his days on the beach - as a toy.
Fowey is pronounced Foy; as in boy
Clive Blake Aug 2017
One day I dreamed …
There was no longer any 'Third World',
Just a united 'First',
Famine clearly vanquished forever,
And no-one died of thirst.

Power was never used to enslave,
And wars were fought no more,
Man's resources were pooled together,
To help aid all the poor.

Man respected his fellow creatures,
Living in harmony,
The oceans free from all pollution;
Helped by 'green' energy.

People didn't need to live in fear;
Crime a thing of the past,
A planet no longer fragmented;
A one-peace world at last.

I awoke in time to catch the news;
News of crime, famine, war,
Moist-eyed I headed back to my bed,
To try and dream ... some more!
Clive Blake Sep 2017
People call me ugly,
And other hurtful names,
I'm often ostri-sized,
My feathers used for games.

They say the Ugly-Duckling
Grew up to be a swan,
And though I'm still but very young,
They ask me What went wrong?
I'm left here on my own-some;
And feel so sad and blue,
Well, you would feel the same
If you were an ... emu.
Clive Blake Sep 2017
We embark on a new journey,
Let our travels never end,
Keep us heading in the same direction,
Though the track may sometimes bend,
Let happiness be our destination,
Let our trademark be a smile,
Let us enjoy every footstep,
Not begrudge a single mile,
Let us revel in new discoveries,
Greet each fresh dawn with pleasure,
Let us find our inner-wealth and know ...
The true meaning of treasure.
Clive Blake Sep 2017
Don’t see only our disabilit-ease,
Don’t deny us basic facilit-ease,
Don’t ignore our many abilit-ease,
Don’t compound our varied difficult-ease,
Deal head-on with the harsh realit-ease.

You never know what life has in store,
You may fall one day and rise no more,
You may join our ranks, afraid, unsure,
You may write words to plead; implore.

We are not an alien race,
We have a voice, we have a face,
We have our part to play; a place.

Let us join life’s lively dance,
Let us have an equal chance.

Pl-ease.
Clive Blake Sep 2017
Happy Birthday to a Man :-
Who today becomes a Fifty year old,
Who looks like a Forty year old,
Who thinks he's a Thirty year old,
Who fancies a Twenty year old,
Who acts like a Ten year old.

The trouble is he's not a "One-Off",
God keeps using the ‘Same Old Mould’.
Written from a woman's perspective!
Clive Blake Jul 2021
Countless poppies now grow
Where men had once stood,
Or had peered from a dugout,
Or had hidden in a wood,
Where bullets had hailed and
Young lives were squandered,
As poisoned gas smothered
And big guns thundered,
Those in charge must have surely
Questioned and pondered.

Poppies grow in peace now,
Gunfire no longer heard,
Let this be the case forever
For PEACE - is the golden word.
Clive Blake Sep 2017
Monolithic steely strides;
Cables strain, whilst nature hides,
Arms outstretched from metal sides,
A buzzard glares as by he glides.

A pylon dwarfs a nearby tree,
But makes no home for bird nor bee,
Landscape ruined, just so that we
In idle warmth ... can watch TV!
Clive Blake Dec 2017
The muggers,
The rapists,
The murderers,
The paedophiles,
The confidence tricksters -
Pray for them.

The weak,
The naïve,
The young,
The old,
The inadequate mixers -
Prey … for them.
Clive Blake Mar 2018
God’s Light split,
Laying bare its constituent parts,
Diverted on course,
Nurtured by prismed skies,
Producing rainbow’d shafts
Which penetrate even the darkest hearts,
To be feasted on, only to be contradicted,
By sad, unbelieving eyes.
Clive Blake Mar 2018
I want to walk in my golden years,
On the Cornish beaches’ warm gold sands,
Where my footsteps are unhurried,
And my route is seldom planned.

I want to sit on the wooden benches,
Overlooking those dark blue bays,
I want to breath in this fresh salt air,
Until the ending of my days.

I don’t want to become immortal;
Living for forever and a day,
I just want to savour life in this world,
No matter how long or short my stay.

I don’t want my life extended for the sake of it,
With no reason or rhyme,
I just want to live in the here and the now,
And enjoy this - my quality time.
Clive Blake Mar 2018
Raindrops descend, puddles form,
A stream engulfed, a river is born,
A course is set, the sea to reach,
Meandering ponderously to a far off beach.

The sea reclaims its myriad young,
Kidnapped by clouds, thunder-slung;
The storm is long past with calm all around;
Albatross glide, with a whisper of sound.

Seagulls circle, dogfish sleep,
Gannets dive and dolphins leap,
But black clouds return and lightning flashes
O'er storm-tossed seas, as thunder crashes.

Once more a stealthy cloud abducts infant water,
The sea's own offspring: a son ... a daughter;
The thief sets off at a wind blown pace,
The anguished mother unable to chase.

The criminal finds refuge in a partisan crowd,
A formless body in a vaporous shroud;
The cloud has no guilt, shows no remorse,
But heads inland on a predestined course.

A hill stands guard, like a customs post;
It stabs the guilty, but allows past the host;
The rogue cloud is ruptured, severed seam and pleat,
Releasing its captives and accepting defeat.

Raindrops descend, puddles form,
A stream engulfed, a river is born,
A course is set, the sea to reach,
Meandering ponderously to a far off beach ...
Clive Blake Mar 2018
What a great reptile,
A Royal Python - no less,
A serpent so dapper;
Never seen in a mess,
Non-poisonous, deaf, mute;
Except for its hiss,
It likes nothing more
Than to hug and to kiss!

Though it has no arms,
Harmless it is not,
Make no mis-snake a
Mean streak it has got,
Outside of its coils
The view is just fine,
But if invited inside
You'd be wise to decline!

Don't be enticed in
By its hypnotic stare,
For when those coils tense,
They act like a snare,
For those patterned coils;
Look brill' from without,
But lose their appeal
When wrapped
Around your snout!
Clive Blake Mar 2018
Do you know what it’s like
To be required no more,
To be put out to grass,
To be kicked out the door,
To know your work’s ended,
No more will be done,
To be slung on the tip,
Pushed aside by the young,
To be pensioned off
In an unceremonious way,
To know you’ve had your’s -
Every dog has its day,
To have an appetite for work,
But be left to hunger,
To be replaced by someone
More able and younger,
To be told you’re too old,
When you feel in your prime,
To be sent on your bike,
Before it’s your time,
To be all washed up
And flushed down the drain,
To have no physical wounds,
But still be in pain,
To feel your age,
Find you’re no Peter Pan,
To see your life going
No longer to plan,
To recall when you felt rich,
But now you feel poor,
To hear your heart slowly pumping,
Alas’ it races no more,
To experience an emptiness
That nothing will fill,
To have no medical symptoms,
But still feel ill,
To be out of control
Of your own destiny,
To be constantly asking
Why me ... why me?
There is a follow up poem to this entitled 'Required Once More'
Clive Blake Mar 2018
Do you know what it’s like
To have your freedom back at last,
To be able to choose new colours
Once pinned out of reach to the mast,
To find tho’ you’ve lost your employment,
You can still keep hold of your pride,
To discover the grass is greener
On the unexplored other-side,
To patch up your battered ego,
Once thought irretrievably torn,
To feel a strong urge to celebrate,
When others expect you to mourn,
To take a fresh look at careers,
When you thought it was all in the past,
To discover your destiny’s liquid,
And never in concrete cast,
To realise your aspirations,
Which no more are held on ice,
To alter your life’s ingredients,
And add a small pinch of spice,
To discover you’re no longer frightened
By things that are different or new,
To embrace all those sensible changes,
And take a much loftier view,
To keep everything in context,
And never let monsters appear,
To look to you dreams and take aim,
Keeping your sights crystal clear,
To be intimidated no longer
By applicants younger than you,
To know a wise captain will always
Choose an experienced crew,
To retain your sense of adventure,
Your instinctive love of fun,
To put down the now closed chapter,
And enjoy the one just begun,
To be welcomed back to life’s table,
And invited to sit down and dine,
To feast till you’re utterly bloated,
And swill it all down with sweet wine.
This follows on from the poem 'Required No More'
Clive Blake Mar 2018
Life’s hustle and bustle has ended,
Now I’ve passed away, deceased,
My new terra firma home,
A guarantee of eternal peace;
Never disturbed by clamour or noise,
I don't even hear a sound,
In this world unknown to the living,
Within the ravenous ground,
No one here is the least impressed
By status, rank or class,
Deep below the skylit realms
Of fresh-green, new-mown grass,
The worms treat everyone the same,
Whether noble born or serf,
As I idle away my leisure hours,
Under neatly replaced turf,
No need ever to work again,
I've had my share of toil,
As my weary bones I rest forever,
Amidst the once feared soil,
I reflect on life's rich journey,
A long winding path, well-trod,
Time for contemplation assured,
Beneath the mounded sod,
This place is now home to me,
I don't think of it as a tomb,
Birth and death entwined as one,
In Mother Nature's womb.
Clive Blake Mar 2018
The deaf man heard the church bells ring,
The blind man led him there,
The arm-less put their hands together,
The leg-less knelt in prayer,
The mute's song filled the church with such joy,
There was no room for despair
And as for those sat in the empty pews ...
Sadly, they weren't there,
The deaf man heard God's mighty word,
The blind man saw the light,
The leg-less marched along with pride,
The arm-less joined the fight,
The mute sang lustily, joyfully bringing
The words of the Bible alive,
But as for those sat in the empty pews ...
Sadly, they didn't arrive!
Clive Blake Jul 2021
Just a young sapling
With an unhindered view,
It chose its position
And then grew where it grew.

Just a singular tree,
Not in a forest, copse or wood,
Preferring its own company,
It stood where it stood.

A tree in its infancy
Coping with life’s highs and lows,
It takes on all challenges
And it grows where it grows.

Standing resolutely alone,
An independent tree,
This somehow reminds,
Reminds me of me.
Clive Blake Aug 2017
May we forever be lovers,
May we forever be friends,
And should we hurt each other,
May we quickly make amends.

May we enjoy our passion,
But never let compassion die,
Thinking in selfless terms as we,
Never emphasising I.

May we forever be soul-mates,
May our love eternally last,
May the food of love sustain us,
May we never have to fast.

May we use each other’s strengths,
When we are feeling weak,
May we both learn to compromise,
And always as one voice speak.

May we never keep dark secrets,
May we never tell each other lies,
May we both work unceasingly,
To ensure our love never dies.
Clive Blake Nov 2017
Heading into Bethlehem . . .
Three Wise Men,
In search of a stable.

Heading out of Bethlehem . . .
Three Wise Turkeys,
While they were - still able.

— The End —