"nessie" poems
I'm not in a rush to leave this place.
I'm in no hurry, it's not a race.
I'd like to take it real slow.
So many stunning places to go.
I want to travel far and wide.
See much more of the English countryside.
Beautiful beaches that surround us in Cornwall and Devon, remind us we live in our own corner of Heaven.
Mystical places with tales of legends to tell.
So much to do and see, I'll do my best to make it sell.
Tintagel such a mystic place, where legend has it King Arthur had his chair.
He had a roundtable it held many Knights, all ready to defend, always ready for a fight.
In York a Viking museum to tell how they came upon our shores, with longboats, a 60 man crew, paddled with their oars.
Bath has the best Roman baths to be found, laze and spoil yourself in the steam rooms built in Roman surrounds.
In Wales, there's Snowdonia for you to climb, or the less active can take a train ride.
A castle in Caernarfon where Princes are appointed by H M The Queen, the sword on the shoulder duly declares arise HRH Prince of Wales, the crowd are waiting for the new Prince to be seen.
In Scotland there's Edinburgh with a castle tall and round sits atop a very high mound.
The lowlands and the Highlands are a sight of well known beauty, driving around the lochs at night keep your eyes open for a monstrous sight, nessie fact or fiction,
Of course there are the lakes of England too, Windermere the largest draws the biggest crowd. Find a cottage out of sight, snuggle up with a loved one, cuddle tight.
Put on your water skis, hire a boat, sail your wind surfing board, fire up your jet ski any of these activities can be fun and available to be done, daily.
The Cotswolds, for take your breath away beauty, small villages, luscious village greens, cricket playing in the field, Large Houses, Lord of the Manors, old worldly pubs, thatched pubs and rivers waiting to be seen.
There are Dartmoor, Bodmin Moor and Exmoor too, Peak District, Lake District mountain ranges, many a zoo.
I'm not in a rush to leave this place.
I'm in no hurry, it's not a race.
I'd like to take it real slow.
So many stunning places to go.
So much to do, so much to see.
On your doorstep, no need to stray.
Whatever you do, wherever you go, have a happy holiday.
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
Often alone I think of you
rolling mountains covered in a purple haze
both in highlands and lowlands too
running water so pure sparkling bright
making our whisky a natural delight
Caledonia - the land of my dreams
I hear music played from the heart
oh' the sound of pipes and drums
heart racing hairs standing on end
poetry filling my eyes with tears
recited at suppers year after year
in celebration of bards no longer here
Caledonia - the land of my dreams
Men wearing tartan skirts with nothing underneath
dancing between swords at highland gatherings
playing games testing their manhood
eating haggis a pudding often misunderstood
porridge,shortbread, salmon and oatcakes
quality food that is for sure
Caledonia - the land of my dreams
History remembered with pride
Mary Stuart, Bonnie Prince Charlie
Wallace, Culloden and Nessie too
some myths, some true
castles, lochs, bridges and glens
places where lassies are called hen
where houses are often **** un bens
people answering with ah' ken
Celtic blood running through my veins
makes me glad I am alive and living here
Caledonia - the land of my dreams
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 5:44 AM UTC
The picnic bench foils under the body weight of my half drunk self
There is a cat cuddling up to me, with her tail
Pink Floyd plays in the background, as the cat brushes up against my legs
Brings a feeling like something of the loch ness Nessie
Shirley sits beside me, watching the night sky
And focussing on my presence and cigarette smoke
I pet her, and she stays
Smoke and inhale
The cars bustle by
The final places of another busy day
The wall is built and she stays beside me
But she now has disappeared
Inhale, exhale
Smoke my smoke
And drink my 4th beer
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 5:01 AM UTC
We are on the hunt,
Hunting hunters, hunting.
And desolate travellers are we
Surprised by sinking ships
Wrapped in saran-wrap, forced to stick together
All reaching a Shakespearic end to a means that
never really mattered in the first place.
Is that what you believe now?
We are the players playing.
And we are the grey, sunken in eyes of a child needing sleep,
dreams of fishing for Nessie in the local lake,
far-fetched fantasies only exhausting the youth,
we are the needy needing.
Surprise me of your fleeting lost memories of old,
we are the laughter, laughers laughing.
We mock feeling, reality. The raw human emotives.
And we are the biting bile taste that follows slaughter and unsuspected chaos,
The moment pre-regret, where innocence is forever lost in a tossed about immoral sea. Salty and familiar.
And we are the prey, prayers preying
For things we can’t even remember like unmotivated love and a taste for fate.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 4:05 PM UTC
Broken pots.
Polka dots.
Floral hours.
Autumn showers.
Made of glass.
Sharp round the edges.
Hanging on hedges.
Ornate as Christmas baubles.
Makes the Gorbals look glam.
Industrialisation at the top of the nation.
Trying to beat the price of inflation.
School kids on kerbstones are moaning and groaning.
Mummy and daddy are hugging each other.
Fighting against the benefit trap.
Destructive bears.
Crushing dreams and each other and brushing their hair.
They're hunting for Nessie down in the loch.
Want to make fortunes, together as one.
A get rich quick scheme.
Forgetting their kiddies, while hunting the sun, or netting a fortune.
Their monster is a phantom, called neglect and greed.
(C) LIVVI
This is only used for the poem because it fits...not being derogatory to Scotland or Nessie...x Promise.
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
I didn’t live long
Or so it seemed
I laughed, I cried
I hoped, I dreamed
At Kensington Palace
I had tea with the Queen
And over in Scotland
Nessie and I made a scene
I flew over wild plains
On my way to Timbuktu
I took on Niagara Falls
In a canoe
I played with the bulls
In my time in Spain
And while in Africa
I saw the rain
In San Francisco
I roller bladed the slopes
To the Golden Gate Bridge
Where I swung on the ropes
I built a snowman
That was Himalayan
I slept under the stars
Amongst ruins that were Mayan
In New York to the lovely lady
I sent a smile and a wink
In Rome at the Vatican
It made me think
That while in Ireland
Oh the beauty I found
I never really felt
My feet touch the ground
I never left my hometown
Or so it seems
But I did live it all
In my dreams
05/03/2010
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 1:00 AM UTC
She takes notice, she takes focus,
She takes more than me back home,
We're flipping up and upside down,
Twisting out loud our frowns are turned around
and I'm falling,
I'm Face to face with her after
such a long stalling,
But I hear you wonder till there's thunder
with our knot-be-noose in said tangled lies,
Let me notify you that your hot and cold lenses
are making this fight,
That far away I'm noticing your ear's are just
cotton shut tight,
See,
you push the prone as I need her by my side,
Resenting to let go of possessive love
Though you know that I'm right,
Know this,
That I'll pull tight what you've towed until you detach,
You'll fall back into night without a single flash,
But like child you cut till you craft blood,
A big red stain that will wash out in rain and separate mud,
I still hear your pathetic voice
in it's low and screeching highs,
I tell you,
don't take it to my home, it's horrid,
Alone you should sing or cry
or just get over it,
But here again you're needing a loan
Though you never owed or owned,
Nevertheless I'll leave a last help
And pray it should lay like a stone,
Hear that what you needed was a backbone
Every time you hunched and never tried,
Every time you plunged blind
With no stable step in your life,
So I say good riddance and bare well,
A last goodbye and farewell,
You've poisoned your own time and mine,
Now finally let it be good,
I'll finally let it be right.
Aug 2, 2010
Aug 2, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC
Freedom like Nessie...
Freedom is like Loch Ness
A Monster that some confess
But they are mistaken at best
Bound by decisions freely made
Freedom will never be free
It's merely a reflection
Of the monster within
Freedom is like Loch Ness
... You're mistaken at best
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 6:23 PM UTC
Faries live in the hawthorn,
Gnomes live under rocks,
Trolls stay under bridges,
And nessie’s stay in the Loughs.
Pookas come close to farmers,
Changlings come to babes,
Spirits in the mirrors,
Kelpies in the waves.
The little folk are trouble,
In the heat they bring the cold,
They trick the weary traveler,
With pots of magic gold.
They whisper on the breeze,
While hidden in the mist,
Without them doing anything,
Remind you they exist.
They write about themselves,
So we don’t think they’re real,
They carved the lines in oghm,
magic words in ancient ghael.
Yet still we leave them gifts,
Bits of whisky & pooka’s share,
We have never ever seen one,
Yet we know that they are there.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 2:11 AM UTC
1.
Sasquatch stalks
the Washington woods.
I lope through low-lying
bushes in search of huckleberries.
The purple-reddish stains on my fingers
are as real
as the grumbling in my stomach,
or the solidity of these mighty pines.
The “small rain” begins to seep
through the atmosphere.
It will not wash away my stains.
2.
I do not believe in Big Foot.
He towers, an outsized legend of the forest.
A Nessie of the woodlands.
A mythical creature created
to satisfy our impoverished imagination,
atrophied by the ever-encroaching
artifice and sterility of the human world.
3.
Soon, the mist turns to big rain.
Clouds blot out the sky.
Dusk turns to night, hours early.
Thoroughly soaked, I
will seek shelter alone.
4.
Mountain folk recite encounters
with Big Foot like happy-to-be-frightened
children around a campfire.
The scariest tale is always the next to come.
Twigs snap, branches break, pine cones are crushed.
We all listen, acutely alert.
5.
Gorged on huckleberries, I will sleep tonight
beneath the pines, solitary,
curling up safely in the contours
of a giant footprint.
I can hear the leaves hit the forest floor.
Dare I dream of conversion?
Dare I dream of belief?
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC
you know what the biggest difference
between continental europe,
and the english isles?
mosquitos...
on continental europe, you can be
swarmed by them in the summer...
on the english isles?
something akin to spotting nessie
(loch ness monster)...
they're like the oasis mirage in a desert...
i.e. hardly any!
you'll sooner get a spider
bite after a night's repose...
oh **** me, my house is infested
with spiders...
but as the proverb states:
a house filled with spiders,
is a happy home...
proverbs are always cryptic
and never make any direct sense
akin to an ikea manual for putting up
a table...
1 more proverbs:
better a sparrow in your hand,
than a dove upon your roof
(that might be persian in origin,
but i'm not too sure)...
i think that might mean:
better to act with peace, than to live in peace...
well... live...
no one can attain
a plateau of emotional tranquility
to be the kind of consistency
that grants you an apathetic shield
of defence against life changes.
still... mosquitos are ****** rare where
i live... like i said:
you're morely likely to be bitten
by a spider when sleeping...
and i have seen house-hold
spiders, a third of a tarantula's size, scuttling
around the place... well, it happened only twice...
but you get the idea.
in terms of phobias?
how is "islamophobia" an irrational fear
by the definition of phobia?
which part is the irrational part
of this so called "phobia"?
perhaps from islam per se,
being apprehensive of its own internal irrational
belief system?
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 4:56 PM UTC
Scotland, my homeland,
oh! how I long to be on your
green shores, where grey-blue water
hides the nessie,
and fairies in the glen roam free.
Scotland, my homeland,
in years to come I shall journey
to your green shores
once more,
finally.
Nov 4, 2016
Nov 4, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
The ancient Pacific
Bellows.
Engenders.
Wind streamed waves.
Liquid Silver.
Whip and sidle.
Time eternal.
Man,
Too,
Bellows.
Engenders...
The Ocean...
Plundered.
Cod to gold.
Brazen and bold.
Pirate treasure.
***** Whale oil.
The best and worst ~
Of wild nature.
Give or Take
Thriving or Surviving.
Life or death.
Which came first?
Strings of Kelp or Nets of String?
Swordfish or Harpoons?
Archipelagos or Man Marooned
Nature or humanity?
The vessel or the sea?
The Humpback or the oil lamp?
Happiness or Sorrow?
Yesterday or Tomorrow?
A Moment in time.
Time eternal.
All of history.
Standing still.
Man and ocean co-exist.
Nessie.
Loch Ness.
Survival of the Fittest.
Paradise.
Revolution.
Theory of Evolution.
Why do Whales sing?
Why do Octopus need ink?
Why do Dolphins Echolocate?
To communicate.
Does the ocean know?
Mass larceny of the Hydroscape.
The ocean *****
Orcas in Captivity.
Global warming.
Pollution.
Sea levels rise.
Why does the deep blue oblige?
Solve the equation.
The mystery of the sea.
The ocean dies.
Like the coelacanth.
To pass extinct.
When I do the math.
In this wise ~
I theorize.
The deep unknown.
Understands.
Thus,
Perhaps.
Waves and tides ~
Do not recede in undertow.
No!
Waves and tides push forth to shore ~
Desperate to escape.
Man's impact on the sea.
To go extinct.
Like the Coelacanth.
To live again.
When
Man succumbs to...
Natural Selection.
Nature's revolution.
Feb 10, 2018
Feb 10, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
It is her that awaits you at home
Curls her arms around you sweetly
Embraces you daily in plain love
That lightens your path like a muse
Me?
I'm your Nessie to play with as you will
Or a monster of my own creation
Only used to talk to or to sometimes vent
An alchemist's joke gone wrong
Left like a fear in the dark at the day's end
And You?
When you get home she laughs about me
as she slowly worships your warm lips with vigor
So you sense the love slipping between your bodies
Pronounce the words to her I now cannot say to you.
So now I'm left on my own to
Fill the spaces between my fingers
Fill up the space between my toes
With the loneliness you gave me
Until all I am
all I will be
is alone.
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 9:54 AM UTC