It’s not always simple.


C. J. Black


I left this poem simmering for quite a long while

Which if you knew me, that’s really not my ‘style’

The reason for this, I was trying hard to gauge-

Is poetry really such a strange language?


It’s dangerous I suggest to get to philosophical

Or you’ll end up with a poem reading somewhat diabolical?

A poem I guess, that should never see the light of day

Until you are satisfied you have something positive to say.


This poem is what could be classed a sort of work in progress

What the end result will be is anybody’s guess

If you are confused with what this poem is about

Too much psychoanalysing will in turn breathe extra doubt.

 C. J. Black©β

Wednesday, 30 July 2014






Make of it what you will.


C. J. Black


Tonight, I feel as though I’ve been thrown to the wolves

Left hanging, out in the wilderness no sign of a friendly face

It’s not that I crave being treated with kid gloves

But surely there are kinder ways if you want to put me in my place?

Being judge and jury, who gave you that distinction?

Just because you have a bone to pick with me

Do you suffer from the fear factor of encountering extinction?

Be open minded, be a man, not the fruit of a poisonous tree.


Fiction is so much easier to write than something that is fact

Not every time you sit to write though, it must be strongly stated

I find this to be the case – truth you can’t retract

For should you slander somebody, it’s right, should you be berated.


Poetry is many things to many different people

There are poets whose works I’ve read which I’ll never understand

Agreed, there are times one must use certain dialogue

Yet they continue to travel down the road signposted – abstract.


This poem to me proves, that is if you needed any proof

That a picture can be painted that makes sense to someone

I am not that someone, to me this is just spoof?

Some will enjoy, try and decipher, never give the kiss of Judas.

 C. J. Black©β

30/07/2014 00:26



Compare and contrast.

C. J. Black

I am a poet with a penchant for a pear
Or am I a pared back poet with a hint of dare?
A fruity kind of poet who gives you the pip
By pairing words together some of which over I should skip?

Take a pair of pears for instance, hold one in either hand
No further down this road will I venture or both pear and I will be canned
Yes I can be juicy – likened to a well ripened pear
For that again I can be hard work with very little flair?

Once from the tree the pear you pluck, you leave the rest to lady luck
Sink your teeth into it, and enjoy, the result of true grit
Could I be considered a poet with a penchant for a pear?
Or perhaps you have something else in mind, like a good kick up the rear?

C. J. Black©β
Monday, 28 July 2014