Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Maja Klit Mar 2015
Ned ad min kind
Vil Den snart falde
Den har svært ved
At give slip
Den hænger godt fast
Uden nytte
Den er allerede udstødt
Lad Den falde, lad Den give slip
epedeped Mar 2010
i dither i dather
anything i'd rather
than do what
i'm supposed to today
i let my mind wander
somewhere out yonder
and i choose
another game to play
i frit and i fret
nothings done yet
much less than
my obligations for sure
but if i chose to work
instead of just lurk
i wouldn't be
procrastinating anymore!!!
Grahame Jun 2014
A beautiful angel, sitting on a cloud,
softly playing her harp,
Was suddenly frit by a noise so loud,
and hit by something sharp.

It’s Concorde, travelling faster than sound,
that is so very sharp,
The angel tumbles towards the ground,
while Concorde flies off with the harp.

She thinks, “No longer shall I sing
while on a cloud I’m sat,
That flying machine has broken my wing,
I’m falling fast, and that’s that!”

The wing though’s, not broken, and causes no pain,
so she thinks, just to feathers, is damage,
However, she tries to fly in vain,
it’s something she just cannot manage.

By spreading her wings slightly she manages to steer,
and thus, stops spinning around,
She is greatly filled with fear,
and still falling towards the ground.

And then, far below, she spies a small plane,
climbing into the sky,
The sight causes her some hope to gain,
and towards it she tries to fly.

“If I can land on the plane,” thinks she,
“that’s grand, cos my fall it will stop,
I might be able to ride it down safely,
and when it’s landed, off it can hop.”

She glides down, the plane flies higher,
and about halfway they meet ,
And though, for a moment, things seem dire,
she grabs on tight, and makes it her seat.

She sits there, astride the plane,
waiting for her panic to subside,
And realises, as plain as plain,
she’s in for a bumpy ride.

Then the plane levels out, her heart calms down,
and things are looking better,
She smooths out her lily-white gown,
and thinks, “Today’s one for a red letter!”

And then she hears a clunking noise,
a door is opened wide,
“Oh no!” she thinks, nearly losing her poise,
“There must be people inside.”

Inside the plane, the pilot had fretted,
he’d felt it pitch and yaw,
And though its balance had been upsetted,
he’d straightened it out once more.

By skydivers, chartered plane had been,
they’d all jumped out, except one,
They were experienced, she was green,
and now she was left all alone.

She’d thought that she should exit last,
’cause she’d never jumped before,
And her static line she’d made fast,
and followed the others to the door.

The door had been opened, they’d got ready to jump,
and finally it was her turn to go,
Then something had caused the plane to bump,
and the door had swung, and closed to.

The pilot had struggled to regain control,
he’d used the joystick and rudder,
The plane had pitched and tried to roll,
then yawed, and finally did shudder.

Eventually, the plane had been levelled out,
and the lone skydiver was shaken,
“Do you still want to jump?” the pilot did shout,
She’d said, “Yes,”  though she was mistaken.

When the plane had tossed, she’d banged her head,
and blacked out for a while,
So she should have stayed in the plane, instead
she thought she’d jump out with style.

She opened the door, and fastened it back,
her training however, had slipped
She didn’t realise her static line was now slack,
no longer safely clipped.

She got to the door, and outside leant,
and looked down at the ground,
Then blacked out again, which unfortunately meant
she fell out, and was earthwards bound.

The angel was still sitting on top,
starting to enjoy the flight,
Then, seeing the girl from the doorway flop,
realised that all was not right.

The girl was spinning around and around,
and falling out of control,
She rapidly fell, not making a sound,
she’d be lucky to get down whole.

The angel now knew something was wrong,
and that something right had to be done,
So she threw herself from the plane, headlong,
knowing that she was the one
Who had to help, or the girl might die,
so she tucked back her wings, to go faster,
The girl was in peril, so she had to try,
even though it might end in disaster.

Like a stooping hawk, down she did hurl,
cutting through the air,
Rapidly closing up to the girl,
until, she got to where
She realised she had to be,
right underneath the skydiver,
Correctly placed, just where she,
the proper aid could give her.

She rolled herself over, her wings she spread out,
the right trajectory she had guessed,
Then caught the girl, the waist about,
and drew her to her breast.

By now they had neared to the ground,
there was no time the ’chute to release,
And the angel kept her arms tight around,
the girl, her rescue she would not cease.

And dropping, with her back to the ground,
with the girl held tight on top,
She sensed a large hand, around them wound,
and their downwards plummet stop.

They were gently lowered to the mold,
and laid there, side by side,
The skydiver was still out cold,
the angel’s eyes opened wide,
Because, as she lay in that place,
a mighty presence seemed
To be looking down on her with grace,
and around her, angels teemed.

It was then she swooned, and knew no more,
until she woke up in a bed,
And to her surprise, on looking up, saw
no halo was over her head.

A nurse sitting close by her bedside,
smiled at her and said,
“You’re really lucky to be alive,
and so’s your friend, who’s in the next bed.”

Just then the ward door opened wide,
and four people clattered in,
They stood around the skydiver’s bedside,
and made an awful din.

“Tell us what happened up there, in the plane,”
the angel heard one of them say,
“I really do not know how to explain,
or what actually happened that day.”

The girl continued, “I was ready to go,
when the plane seemed to receive a bump,
And then I thought, everything’s ok, so,
I decided to make the jump.

I do remember opening the door,
and looking down at the ground,
And then, I remember nothing more,
’til I woke up here, safe and sound.”

One of the crowd said, “You gave us a fright,
you came out of the plane, spinning round,
Of your parachute, there was no sight,
we were sure you’d crash into the ground.”

Another one said, “Something else wasn’t right,
we were certain that your ’chute was red,
Then one seemed to appear, that was lily-white,
which broke your fall instead.”

A third one spoke, “And another thing,
which I just can’t get out of my head,
It seemed as though I heard angels sing,
as I ran over, to check you weren’t dead.”

Finally, the fourth one said,
“And my mind’s still in a whirl,
We saw that not only weren’t you dead,
lying next to you was a girl,
Your parachute hadn’t opened, and
of the white one, there was no sign,
Though the girl by your side was holding your hand,
and wore a white dress of archaic design.”

Then all of them chattered together,
until the nurse made them leave.
The angel and girl looked at each other,
neither knowing what to believe.

Meanwhile, the Concorde had come in to land,
and when it had rolled to a stop,
The ground staff simply could not understand,
what, off its nose, they’d seen drop.

Things falling off planes can be serious,
so they got over there pretty sharp,
And then, they thought they were delirious,
cos, what had dropped off was a harp.
And a label, tied tightly to it was,
with a message upon it inscribed,
Send it to the hospital of St. Thomas,
the owner’s recovering inside.

The girl, to the angel, held her hand out,
and giving her a fond glance,
Said, “I’m really glad you were there about,
we don’t often get a second chance.”

*Grahame Upham
3rd January 2014.
wander abaht atter a home
as av no bairns ad Tek us in
so the living hereabahts
rush inside
early doors
afore sunset
lock doors
pull down shades,
turn mirrors to walls

do all to stop me seeing em
for if I did
I'd carry 'em off.

*** named a monkey
after us, the lemur
cos we big eyes
are aht at neet
and mek ghost noises

so bairns bang *** lids
howl like wolves
joined by tarn dogs,
to frit us away

while nannans spin abaht,
splash boiling watta
rahnd rooms with a wooden ladle .

Am one dead al not find a home.

   I'd carry 'em off.
Another for the month
Marolle Oct 2014
Jeg kan ikke forstå hvorfor
du sådan skal overvåge os?
Du kan ikke forstå hvorfor
du sådan skal være 3. hjul af os 4.
Jeg kan ikke skrive frit på Twitter
for du overvåger mig som en høg
du sender spørgsmål til 1. og 2. hjul
du skriver håndskrevne breve til 1. hjul
du ringer til 2. hjul
du snapchatter til os alle 3
men når vi alle er sammen siger du intet
heller ikke på tomandshånd nævner du
hvad du er så utilfreds med
for hvis du er 3. hjul
så er det jo mig der er 4. hjul.
Jeg vil lade dig vide
og jeg har ladet dig vide
at vi aldrig har villet gøre dig til 3. hjul bevidst
og jeg har sagt undskyld og du har accepteret
du sagde, jeg jo kun kunne tale for mig selv
hvilket jo er sandt
og det har jeg så gjort
du glemmer bare at tænke over,
at det jo faktisk er mig der er det 4. hjul

*(Marolle)
nyt år, ny ligegyldighed
store og små problemer; alle komplicerede, alle trivielle
et rod af pro et contra lister, mentalt og fysisk, om det ene og det andet
én fod i opgivelse, den anden i stædighed
stolthed og ære og sårbarhed
at stå ved sig selv men være åben for samtale; for kompromis på samme tid
ulykkelighedens øvre grænse
almen smerte
uldent forræderi
er der virkelig et glad liv et sted?
pengemani og nedarvet selviskhed
umulige vilkår
kamp eller flugt?
hastig velovervejet
et frit valg?
at starte i nul
pligt og lyst og splittelse
dunkel hovedpine i yderkanten af hovedet, i yderkanten af eksistensen
sammenstød, velmenende fornærmelse
optrevlende mønster-elev (mønstret elev)
starten på et år,
forandring?
alt er rodet og irriterende og overvældende og kompliceret og jeg vil skrive til mine fingerspidser er ømme
llcb Sep 2015
Jeg græder nogle gange i hverdagen
fordi jeg er lykkelig
Og når først man er lykkelig
har man noget at miste
Så jeg er bange i øjeblikket,
men om fredagen griner jeg,
fordi der drikker jeg mig selv fuld
Og så er jeg modig nok til
ikke at være bange
for at være lykkelig.

Så kan jeg frit kysse mine cigaretter
og gøre frie ting, som lykkelige mennesker nu gør.
fordi likøren holder min lykke i hånden
og hjælper den ud ad kassen
i mit kranie
hvor den normalt
gemmer sig
blandt
mit ego
og andre ulovlige tanker.
ungdomspoet Apr 2018
jeg ved nu
at du ikke gjorde mig
til den bedste version af mig selv
for jeg har set at med de rigtige
mennesker blomstrer jeg
som en valmue
smuk og rød mens den
lever frit på marken
men hvis du plukker den
dør den
jeg ved nu
at jeg ikke skal leve
for at passe ind i et
andet menneskes liv
men finde mennesker
der passer ind i mit
som vil leve side om side
med mig på
den frie mark
jeg ved også
at det er okay at jeg
forelskede mig blindt
i lyden af din stemme
dit grin
din hjerne
i måden dine læber
rørte mine
den måde du så mig
det er okay
men først nu ved jeg
at jeg ikke er en kærlighed
fattigere
men en kærlighed rigere
for du vil altid side i mig
have en plads i mit hjerte
for tiden vi har tilbragt sammen
kommer aldrig tilbage
minderne vi har skabt sammen
de forsvinder aldrig
vi vil altid eksistere i datiden
det kan ingen af os løbe fra
og det er okay nu
for nu ved jeg
at det var meningen at vi
skulle forelske os
for at skilles igen
og lære noget om kærlighed

— The End —