Taking a constitutional. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

Today there is nowth but sunshine

Cloudless sky, bird song

Dog panting, seeking shade

Cattle flaked out in pastures green

A picture postcard scene

The bleet of sheep can be heard in distant fields

Farm machinery being transported, land to be tilled

In a nearby field horses drinking from a trough of water

Butterflies, colours of the rainbow on a mossy bank

A murder of crows kicking up a racket in a forest of nests

Silver birds leaving white trails behind, bound for foreign parts

On the beach no sign of carbon footprints.

©Chris Black. May 11th 2019

#Poetry #amwriting

Don’t we all deserve to have a blip. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

Bank holidays can knock you out of your stride

Good for the sanity, leaving technology on the side

Getting back into the groove another thing entirely

Knuckling down to the task in hand

Not going quite as planned

Working hard to get out of first gear

The clouded mind will slowly clear

It is now all in the lap of the Gods

So back to the scribble pad

Don the thinking cap

Wipe those sweaty palms

Now you’re on the straight and narrow

Feeling good in yourself again

Relishing the thought of pen on paper

If nothing else happens for the rest of the day

You got a poem out of having nothing to say.

©Chris Black. May 10th 2019

#Poetry #amwriting

The sleepwalker. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

She was well used to his antics

Paying scant attention once they were on home turf

He could negotiate stairs-wells with ease

Go from room to room naked as a jay bird

Never even stub a toe.

They were party animals as were their friends

Occasionally they would have themed nights 

It was their turn this particular weekend

The partying went on until the early hours of the morning.

Once it finally wound down

She went unconscious once her head hit the pillow.

On waking next morning he was missing from her bed 

She found him stretched out on the couch downstairs wrapped in a bathrobe 

She did not possess a pink bathrobe.

Peeling it off him as quick as you would peel a banana 

Shock horror he was wearing a G-string 

The party was now turning into a nightmare.

He couldn’t explain this away with the excuse it must have been the sleepwalking 

Then from the lounge area emerged the owner of the bathrobe

Dressed in a fancy dress chicken outfit.

©Chris Black. May 9th 2019

#Poetry #amwriting

With teeth clenched. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

Night time sees him fixed in his chair

Trying hard to win the war against stubborn words

Sometimes it is easier to pen sheep.

He stirred, twisting, turning

Allowing words leap onto a blank page

Show your fangs he moaned

His ears open to latch onto a moment

He paused and stared, scared

He could feel a veil of sleep overpower him

“When I get older losing my hair will you still need me

Will you still feed me when I’m 64”

Humming away to the Beatles track in sheer amusement

If he couldn’t write this night at least he had his music.

©Chris Black. May 8th 2019

#Poetry #amwriting

We’ve blocked the sun and choked the flower.

jpoet7/Joseph Black Photography

Silence now no birdsong tweet
Concrete pylons in the street
Conifers that once stood tall
Nesting chicks no longer call.
Plastic populates the planet
Choking cormorant and gannet
Smoking chimneys, acid rain
Deserts populate the plain.
Icebergs melting tumble down
Rising waters islands drown
Blinded by our greed for power
We’ve blocked the sun and choked the flower.
J. Poet 7 ( @wordverse.me )

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Cutting your cloth according to its measure. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

A real source of inspiration

To part quote Samuel Beckett

“The exercise book that opens like a door and lets me far down into the now friendly dark”

We all, without doubt have a way of motivating ourselves

Once in the zone anything is possible

Never over think, consoling himself daily with this thought

Writing daily, allows it become a habit.

Taking down the nearest book to hand

Randomly opening it, a line will prompt a response

Then allow the mind wander, ponder

This poem, these thoughts

Emerged when he flicked open The Life of Samuel Beckett.

©Chris Black. May 1st 2019

#Poetry #amwriting #SpokenWord #soundcloud

Listen to a spoken word version @ #soundclound


Off now to lie down in a dark room. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

When I shuffle off this mortal soil

If it happens to be today

Here’s hoping that in the space beyond

I’ll still be able to correspond

Also that I don’t recoil

Or find myself with nothing to say.

There are those of course who would tip their hat

Nod in my general direction think that is that

To them I say, do this at your peril

You will find that I am a constant.

If you have been with me for the past 30 days

Or any part there of

To you I tip my hat and give praise

Thank you for your patience, follows, kind comments and those likes

Your encouragement it must be said assisted me make those 30 strikes.

©Chris Black. April 30th 2019 #National #Poetry #Month

#Poetry #amwriting #poemaday #30Days #30Poems

The layout of language. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

Today, sitting in the imagination of his mind

He found himself in illustrious company, that of Samuel Beckett

Imbibing dry white wine at Cochon de Lait

Looking out on passers-by through a dimly lit window

This in turn charged the imagination.

Weekday mornings as apart from weekends

See him do most of his writing

Laying down a marker

His way of motivation

Eager, like a golfer on the first tee.

Always hoping at the off

He was not going to find himself bunkered.

Trying continuously to mould a poem to his own design.

The growth of a mind

The University of Life

Connecting with the landscape

Savouring all those aspects.

Longing to be a free thinker

Allowing always his words complete freedom.

©Chris Black. April 29th 2019 #National #Poetry #Month

#Poetry #amwriting #30Days #30Poems #poemaday

The White blackbird. Poetry from the pen of ~The Poet’s Poet~

THis complex thoughts scatter on the page

Today he can think only in monochrome

It is not a good writing day

Though he has lots he wishes to say

He simply can make no sense of it all

Today he feels like a fish out of water, all clammed up

His eyes glance away he cannot afford to even look at the page

Words are in fact leading him a merry dance

Where to from here is the puzzle

He cannot allow inanimate objects dictate.

Of late it has become a burden

Sharing his difficulty has eased the tension

The door to the library of the mind

Which had been tightly secured, now flung open

This gives him the opportunity to again read and write.

*The white blackbird by Lennox Robinson has no significance to the poem it just seemed like the perfect title.

©Chris Black. April 28th 2019 #National #Poetry #Month #30Days #30Poems

#Poetry #amwriting #poemaday