Flying a kite for poetry.

Taking his river walk

Watched as wind hooked water

An otter come from hiding

Then disappear

Birds leap out of trees

Taking their place in the air.

 

The relentless rain

Drenching wild river bank flowers.

Taking his seat beneath trees shelter

His mind fixed in poetic form.

As long as there are the elements he thought

There could never be a mundane return.

 

He scavenged about, turning the screw

Feeling the warm and the cold of his surrounds

As dry as the nearby snail in his sheltered house

Covering his eyes he sat in silence

From his long rummaging with words

The poet observes that from the mist emerges a poem.

(c) Chris Black. September 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

Listen to a spoken word version @

#Poetry #SpokenWord

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As “Days Dwindle Down To a Precious Few”

When handed the keys to another day

Watch leaves come floating down

Signs that autumn has arrived in all its bronze glory.

 

Sun, glistening on pond water lilies

A young water hen flitting from leaf to leaf

Feeding, tweeting to it hearts content.

 

Passers-by stop, just to admire mother-nature

While a photographer snaps this birds movement

It will then be framed for posterity in glistening glory.

 

Strolling through the beautiful Botanical Gardens

Of Dublin’s fair City resplendent under a glorious autumnal sun

Global visitors stand in admiration as September once again

Brings forth its golden glow.

 

Sitting beneath an ancient oak tree sketching

Or perhaps writing his memoirs, a Zozimus type figure

His long blackthorn stick close by.

As the song says “The Days Grow Shorter When You Reach September”

 

So it was with “Kurt Weill’s” “September Song” ringing in his ears

“When the Autumn Weather Turns the Leaves to Flame”

Birds in song wing their way among a beech trees baring fingers.

 

Witnessing weather signs telling of this new season’s life

He paused, in this gardens vast circumference.

© Chris Black. September 2018                                                 

~The Poet’s Poet~

#Poetry #SpokenWord

Listen to the spoken word version

 

 

 

 

 

Cranking it up.

Once that red light turns to green

Automatically the poetic thought process  kicks into gear

Time to let the foot off of the break

Move from neutral into first gear

Then into second, third, fourth

Eventually top gear, you are on the highway to success

A road leading who knows where

No shortcuts allowed, you want to serve up more than blurred vision

A poem to stir the reader, move them back from that Black Hole

Or perhaps it is for your benefit alone you write?

Black Dog and Black Hole places you wish to escape from

The stars in the sky shade back to invisible, allowing

You see the light of day

Automatically you have something positive to say?

(c) Chris Black. September 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

#Poetry #Ramblingofthepoeticmind

Thoughts

Walt's Writings

Sometimes my thoughts
Take me
On a wicked, twisted road
As the pages of my life
Roll by
My mind is full
Of unoccupied space
Loneliness has been
Replaced by emptiness
This time my thoughts have taken me
A couple blocks south of ten minutes
Where every breath has meaning
And I can’t help but wonder
Would you still be you
If I wasn’t me?

~The Tennessee Poet~

©Walt Page 2018 All Rights Reserved

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Dappled shadows

Pay Yassy a visit, you’ll be glad you did.

yaskhan

On soundless feet, he stalks his prey
Camouflage gives reinforcement
Environment helps him slay
Blessed with a regal endorsement
With cracking roar makes his statement.

Undisputed king of his terrain
Predator that should not be enchained
From illegal poaching abstain
Their survival major campaign
To preserve, conserve and sustain.


#dizain

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Bin the Bucket List

Bibi Baskin

bucket2.jpg

Soon after I moved back to Ireland from India, many people asked me several questions about my life over there and many also said they would like to take a holiday to India.  They said (and still say) it’s on their ‘bucket list’. BUCKET LIST. I imagine there is no soul alive (whose first language is English) who doesn’t know that a ‘bucket list’ is a list of things you don’t want to do today but you do want to do before you ‘kick the bucket’, which means die.

The stark reality of that word ‘die’. When life is over. Kaput. Never to come back again (unless you’re Hindu/Buddhist). But for me, there are much worse assumptions embedded in the concept. And here they are.

If you have a Bucket List it means:

You are ARROGANT. You’re behaving, viz. making decisions, as if you know when you’re going to…

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Working in unison.

On this blank page, as my fingers move

They make indentations in each groove

Sowing seeds between each line.

 

At first there are many muddled thoughts

Some, at this time will come to naught

At a future date, they will be resurrected.

 

In the future into poems injected

Sewn into the fabric of a page

Perhaps give comfort, even outrage.

 

They, like the writer will never know their fate

Until the writer sits down to relate

Then, with a sudden sharp jab of pen on page

 

A stage is set, a page is printed

The dark recess of the mind spilled out

A reason always to enter the darkness of the poetic mind.

(c) Chris Black. August 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

Hear the spoken word version @

Good vibes.

Don’t get stressed over what you can’t control.

When an wherever, possible positives extol.

Continue drinking out of the feel good factor glass.

Given time yes the stress will pass. Talk, talk away

Don’t walk, walk away.

The listening ear will never disappear.

There are more good people in the world than bad

Seek them out should you feel lonely or sad.

Bury negativity, embrace positivity.

Reach out the hand of friendship to those who are in need.

You will benefit always from doing a good deed.

Illegal substances and alcohol may for an instant kill the pain.

If you partake, learn from your mistake, there is no way you can gain.

Remember always you are never alone with your fears.

Learn to live with the black dog and don’t get stressed

Over what you can’t control.

When and wherever, positives extol.

(c) Chris Black. August 2018

*Good vibes, a poem from “Same Train, Different Track”

~The Poet’s Poet~

Attempting an acrostic.

Well now, no need to remind one and all that we have reached the hump of the week

En Bloc let us raise our coffee cup in celebration

Deliberate on the subject we might wish to write about

Needless to say I am subjected to write an acrostic poem

Easier said than done I don’t mind saying

Still, perseverance will win out?

Doubting yourself no matter the field of activity you dabble in is

cul -de -sac we should try to avoid at all cost?

You’ll see the benefit of striving for that goal come close of business Wednesday.

(c) Chris Black. August 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

#acrosticpoetry #amwriting #awaywithwords #creativewriting #poetry

#poetrytheopeningandclosingofadoor #TodayfromtheManShed #thepoetspoet #wordpress