Poetry. ~The Poet’s Poet~

Could be classed as a tapestry of words

A mix of different unravelled thoughts

and ideas, the texture of living a life.

Clicking the fingers, tapping the feet

To the sound of the world passing by

All writing has a certain quality.

Somewhere behind yesterday’s hills lies history

With age comes a different perspective

As each door in life we pass through

leads us to pastures new.

There are times, of course,

When it is good to diversify

Head off out into the world of words

Keeping a level head.

The end product is made up of many particles;

Among my words is who I am.

There is no end, only new beginnings.

#Poetry #amwriting #SameTrainDifferentTrack


Impercipient perhaps? ~The Poet’s Poet~

Walking through the darkened corridors of the mind

Drawing back that darkened veil

The aim, to write poetry with substance.

There are times the mind works in fast forward mode

Rarely in rewind.

Should themes at all times vary?

Walking along the sidewalks of life

On every corner nothing but struggle and strife

Drug pushers, drug users, child molesters and abusers

Rampant rape culture, homeless, street sleepers

Civil unrest, political leaders put to the test

Business heads not leading by example

Both given more rein

Rather than be shown up for what they are

Signs that the Law is an ass.

Maiming, disclaiming, earthquakes, pollution

Raging fires. We are self imploding.

Will we one day rise from the ashes?

See the folly of our ways

Or continue hiding behind that darkened veil.

Never feel alone once in the company of the alphabet

Allow each line written have its own juice.

Written to be analysed not experienced.

We all should consider this picture – not just at Christmas time-

Sitting around the table contemplating that empty chair.

(c) Chris Black. December 2018

#Poetry #amwriting


Trust this inner wisdom.

Pondering on the burning question of the hour

Details, details, the revolving door syndrome

Going round in circles, ‘literally’ moving on the spot

Following his tail, playing catch up

Using his pen like a fork to drink soup.

Constantly telling himself

Concentrate on detail

If only he would heed himself.

Just keep on writing, something will emerge

The flood gates will open

He’ll then find himself swept away in a word surge.

Elation might well follow

Try not to be overwhelmed.

Watch those thought spilled onto a page

Transform into a poem

For us all the approach differs

Each time we get an inclination

It is all about persevering, ink spilled and perspiration.

(c) Chris Black. December 2018

#Poetry #amwriting

~The Poet’s Poet~


Once he sits with pen in hand

Even though he has nothing planned

It is essential he writes.

Those thoughts that stay are good

Others he allows take flight

They may yet find a place to roost

Their time will come.

When that time comes to pass

He will write to the sound of a different drum

Not getting overly excited

That never assists the cause.

It helps him in his endeavour though

To step back and take stock

Then mind refreshed, head decluttered

Return to his writing desk

Read what is already penned

He being the sole judge and jury

On leave well enough alone or amend.

(c) Chris Black. December 2018

#Poetry #amwriting

~The Poet’s Poet~

Tomorrow may well be too late


Disregarded, lost to the world

If not written in stone.


Gone forever if not recorded.

As will be achievements

Be they big or small

Like thoughts

If not saved for posterity

Will be lost to one and all


Throughout our lives

For future generations

Should be logged

For at some point

Into dust we must.

(c) Chris Black. December 2018

#Poetry #amwriting

~The Poet’s Poet~

The subject for today is

 Bringing together the timeless thoughts of the mind

Sometimes playful versions, at times serious

Difficult at times to act as translator.

The vast dimensions of poetry can be healing

Then again disturbing, sometimes humorous

It’s good to feast on your feast of words.

We can’t stop this world and get off

Write then as it’s food for mind and soul

Life, this merry go round, our playground.

This vast landscape into which we were born

Coaxes us to write for our own sanity

There are poets who have the skill

To write for the benefit of others.

(c) Chris Black. December 2018

#Poetry #amwriting #SpokenWord #soundcloud

~The Poet’s Poet~

Listen to a spoken word version @ https://soundcloud.com/the-poets-poet-1 

Revealing inner thoughts.

Poetry, should that be the root of all these words?

Perhaps, then perhaps not

Don’t we all view the written word from different perspectives?

There are times that from the work of his own hand

This writer ponders on what he really means

where did the inspiration come from?

What is he trying to announce at this given time

is he trying to express a certain thought?

Maybe just gather a head of steam

Which may just well grab the readers attention

Encourage them to put pen to paper, thinking

I can do better than this, I can write proper poetry.

If it succeeds in getting just one person

To sit and write, is that not a good thing?

Gobbeltygook, can at times be inspiring.

(c) Chris Black. December 2018

#Poetry #amwriting

~The Poet’s Poet~