Apropos of nothing.

Once placed upon a page, the writers hope is that the written word will engage, those who take the time to sit and read, giving the work time to breathe. Fresh words, new life, should engage positive thought, not cause strife. There again taste is singular, some do feed on the irregular. Others, tend to vary their menu depending on state of mind and venue. A novel idea one might say, encouraging participation in the art of word play. Engage yourself be it poetry or prose, continue to feed the habit, enjoy do not over expose. Then without stint before you go to print, the finished article you have laid down, be positive in your scrutiny of it do not cast a frown. The writer is deemed to be their worst critic – continue, if in any doubt seek assistance – become prolific. Picking a subject, write freely it is after all your project. Then as with this piece, read it over, correct errors, then release. This will never be the finished article, it’s akin to learning to ride the bicycle. You will fall on more than one occasion, getting up, dusting yourself off you will arrive at your given station. The piece you are writing will tell you when you have reached the end, to this end for this written word I question myself, have I found the blend?

(c)Chris Black 2016.

 

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Let the flag of peace unfurl

jpoet7

Let the flag of peace unfurl

Today let’s help our fellow “man”

Be kind and gentle where we can

When we see someone in need

Take the time, do the good deed.

Stop, speak, Don’t turn the cheek

Aid the needy and the meek

Be not afraid what people think

Unto their level please do not sink.

Life’s too short for us to waste

On skin or colour, creed or race

Peace and comfort you will find

If love’s the first thing on your mind.

©j.black ( wordverse.me)

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50 Word Stories: The Convenience of Skirts

Richard M. Ankers - Author

Well, it is almost Halloween.


Willow trees have always held a certain allure. When the wind blows through a willow’s skirts, you catch a fleeting glimpse of perfect nature like the tide at midnight or the moon on a clear blue day. Some call it beauty, although I call it convenient. I buried you underneath.

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Focus the mind.

Shivering in the softness of the falling drizzle

Unconsciously answering the neighing of the bay in a nearby field

Warming to the task as the body temperature rises

Stepping up the pace in order not to allow negativity set in

The mindset can be easily changed if positive thought is switched off

Thinking in this mode is healthy – food for the body

It is quite easy, especially on dull dark days to become that couch potato

We alone are the only ones who can motivate ourselves

Prompting from others tends the shell to close.

Reaching the spot – there is always a spot while taking a constitutional

Standing on a sloping bank watching a lone seal rise and fall

through the oceans mouth, soon to be joined by a playmate

On the headland my picture is of Jaws.

The voice of poetry knows no bounds

Imagination blends into real life and vice versa

Listening to waves lapping under a star-pricked sky

The moon as my only companion

Living life in the now.

(c)Chris Black 2016

 

Unwound

Ensconced once again

Fresh from holidaying in the sun

A break from taxing the brain

Lounging in the sunshine, fun

Lingering walks along the promenade

Laying off on a black sandy beach

From this dreams are made

Sitting off in an easy chair, a cool beer within reach

A glass of champagne, toast the sunset

Climbing 7000 feet high

Memories we’ll not forget

Stargazing, a clear night sky

Mind and body now refreshed

Words aplenty to spill onto blank pages

Time now to retire to the man shed

See what transpires when the mind engages.

(c) Chris Black 2016

 

 

As I walked out by Arbour hill

jpoet7

As I walked out by Arbour hill

As I walked out by Arbour hill

Sparkling sunshine, morning chill

Autumn leaves in gullies clutter

From cobblestones pigeons scatter.

Silence in the barracks square

No longer soldiers marching there

A grand museum of artefacts

Memories come flooding back.

Old graveyard behind prison walls

Tricolour proudly standing tall

In quick lime patriots buried all

A garden now set to recall.

UN also remembered there

Stop awhile in silent prayer

For the Congo and the Lebanon

Our Gardai, Soldiers fighting on.

History scattered all around

Easter rising, armies sound

A place to stop and to reflect

On those who merit our respect.

©j.black (wordverse.me)

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Doodling out loud.

For the past two days I’ve failed to write one line

The thought process has been what’s referred to as benign

Frustrating as this may be

It’s very plain to see

The brain such as it is is trying to relate

Don’t doubt yourself don’t denigrate

Think on a subject not too taxing

Breathe easy start relaxing

Don’t give yourself palpitations

The little voice whispers to me

I should stand back I agree

But if I let this continue to fester

I’ll be left with a real tester

How long do I stay away from the writing process

How will I return, continue to progress

Failure is a strange bedfellow

Those gremlins will be gone come tomorrow

I can then allow myself the freedom to write as I wish

This is in no way a factual poem, just an assorted poetic dish.

(c)Chris Black 2016