Writing 201: Water. Day 1.

https://writing201february2015.wordpress.com/haiku/simile/water/

Today let’s write a poem about water. And/or haiku. And/or use a simile.

 

A Simile.

As black as the hobs of hell.

 

Haiku.

Whiskey and water

For some is the perfect mix

On the rocks for me.

 

Polluted rivers

Water, Water everywhere

Not a drop to drink.

 

White horses at sea

Spectacular Niagara

Water is their drive.

 

Water is life’s source

You can exist without food?

Always carry a hip flask!

 

  1.  C. J. Black©β

Monday, 16 February 2015

http://www.chrisblack2012.wordpress.com

 

 

February ’14 Haikus.
By C. J. Black.

Glistening in sunlight
Passing mansions on a hill
Bankers’ paradise.

Weather beaten face
Cursing the winter weather
Seeking sheltered spot.

In the church of God
Our petitions wing their way
Silently give praise.

Feel the winter chill
Mercury is dropping fast
The larder is bare.

Watch the child at play
Beware of your surroundings
Showing little fear.

On the trail of haikus
A most relaxing past time
Ideas abound.

Attach the dogs lead
Early constitutional
Good hangover cure.

Had my coffee fix
Time for early morning swim
Feeling full of beans.

Heard from far off hills
The sound of music playing
Amber nectar flows.

Compose a haiku
Not the easiest of tasks
One day I’ll succeed.

C. J. Black©β
02/02/2014 00:44:13

Not quite the last post. C. J. Black.

Wednesday the 8th of May was the day I got the call

I had a Humpty Dumpty moment decided to jump before the fall

I started out last October wondering, how long will this last

Here I am 146 posts on; thanks to you all I had a blast

I guess they call it burn out never knew what it really meant

But I’ve come to realise it now, I’ll take rest and be content

I will be keeping tabs on what’s happening in the world of scribes

But I’ll not be tempted back before my time so forget about the bribes!!

Who knows I may pop up just to keep myself in touch?

But between this and then I’ll not post very much

I’ll use my time wisely catching up on books I’ve left unread

Give the keyboard fingers a rest – take proper exercise instead

I may even try my hand at writing proper poetry

That’ll be the day says you – but stranger things have happened believe you me

So as I’m coming close to the end of this foolscap page

The final curtain is being drawn; it’s time to leave the stage

So thank you for being a friend and with your permission

In the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger I’ll be back, this is just the intermission.

C. J. Black©β

9th May 2013.

 

 

 

A World wide affliction? C. J. Black.

Sitting by an open fire with glass of wine in hand

Watching multi – coloured flickering flames, thinking this is a grand –

Way to spend an evening in total relaxation

While the world outside continues to suffer from so called starvation

You would imagine from news bulletins and reading newspaper headlines

That the world was going down the tubes if it didn’t meet certain deadlines

But then you switch on the evening news – watch them arrive like movie stars

These leaders of “bankrupt” countries, arriving in rather swanky cars

They are meeting at some palace, dining on sumptuous food

With never a thought of the lower class, how can they be so (c) rude?

Simple really when you think of it – its scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours

Pay them lip service pretend you care – they’ll lap it up the silly wh**es

Years of practice at lining those pockets made of silk

While all the time, all they think of is who else can we milk?

And then there are those in the building trade (not all)

Sitting in their ivory towers counting monies they have made –

Out of building ghost towns without planning permission or so the story goes

Leaving the poor innocent again with a lot more than a bloody nose

Then there are those in pin stripes – the untouchables it seems

Who will haunt us for our last few bob – shatter all our dreams?

Also there are the drug barons – dangerous games they continue to play

As they continue to covet their opponents patch – while innocent lives decay.

C.J. Black©β

8th May 2013

Considering a Sabbatical? C. J. Black.

 

A little voice cried inside my head

It really is time for a break

There really is no more to be said.

Make this promise to yourself, and then put this piece to bed

If you continue in this vain – your sanity is at stake

A little voice cried inside my head.

There is no point blaming yourself – it’s the processing which is dead

You will bounce back – the outlook is not all bleak

There really is no more to be said.

No point contemplating on it or filling your head with dread

When you do get your mojo back you’ll be on a winning streak

A little voice cried inside my head.

Until then take time out rest awhile instead

No one will cast blame or say he’s gone all meek

There is really no more to be said.

People would be foolish to think you you’d gone weak

I for one wouldn’t let something like that leak

There is really no more to be said

A little voice cried inside my head.

C. J. Black©β

7th May 2013.

I’m no Lawyer! C. J. Black.

 

Have you ever told a blatant lie this question was asked of me?

No but I’ve certainly circumnavigated the truth occasionally

I doubt there is a single person among the living or the dead

That has not told at least a white lie in something they’ve written or said

Which of us when asked to acknowledge that we have told a lie –

Will tell another just so that the questioner might pass us by

Bending the truth in order to get an advantage in life

Can only lead to causing you an accumulation of trouble and strife

I am a firm believer that the truth will always out

A lie will always cast a cloud, people will always cast doubt

Never be afraid of truth, always be up front

Shame the devil at all times, if you have to be – be blunt

People will admire you for this, this you must believe

Eventually you will be caught out if you continue to deceive

You will only get so far talking with forked tongue

No doubt finding yourself friendless before too long

Before I take my leave of you I have a confession to make

Perhaps you already know this – I’m not a poet I’m a fake

So if I should die before I wake I’ve got that off my chest

I can be interred in the knowledge I passed the lie detector test.

C. J. Black©β

6th May 2013.

 

 

Striving hard to succeed C. J. Black.

“Memory is the diary we all carry around with us” Oscar Wilde.

Striving hard to succeed

With my inner self I plead

Let me get words on a page

This will allow the reader engage

Then they may fully understand

That this poem has been truly planned

Not a figment of my imagination

But a concept built – yes a creation

Born out of a will to win

It started out a skeleton – this is its skin

I want it to be a success; I make no bones about it

A serious piece – not just a skit

Nerve racking it can be

Try I will until the nth degree

I will strive until I am satisfied

I’ll not give in, I’ll not be denied

It can be a lonely place my writing den

This has been said to me time and time again

But to me it is a place of rest

Once I step inside it’s as though I’m blessed

I get immediate inspiration

This dear friends, is my work station

There is a certain ritual which must be followed

This is my sanctuary into which no one is allowed

After I pull up my chair I don my thinking cap

Placing sentences I’ve written in what I call a word map

Checking them carefully until I find

Even one word which will kick start a thought

Never discard an idea thinking this will come to naught

Plant that seed, continue it to nourish

Your written work will, without a doubt flourish

Never entertain the thought this may read absurd

Fulfil your linguistic dreams word by perfect word.

C. J. Black©β

4th May 2013.

 

 

 

My other self C. J. Black.

I feel like I’m asphyxiating this isn’t very fair

Put in the effort or you will not be left up for air

I have a really hard task master of that there is no doubt

He has me locked inside this room – it’s a cellar, there’s no way out

The candle that he gave me is now down to a flicker

You can’t see the tears I’m shedding – I can’t go any quicker

He wants this poem finished and slipped underneath this door

There is no way out other than that – no one can hear my roar

I’ve been locked in here for days on end without a bite to eat

The fear within me at this present time – you could nearly hear my heart beat

It’s so hard to concentrate; my mind is in a mess

Does he care about me? Does he consider for one moment my stress?

It really does not bother him, he wants this task completed

He cares not a jot that at this time I feel totally defeated

But this candle is flickering and while I still have light

I’ll not let him defeat me I’ll continue to fight that fight

That demon inside my head will never get the better of me

I will complete this poem and keep my dignity.

C. J. Black©β

3rd May 2013.

 

 

Dare I elaborate? C. J. Black

It is quite amazing what one word will do

When I heard that word uttered it was then I knew

A poem of sorts would have to be written in honour of that word

This whole concept made sense to me – to you it may seem absurd

But I tell you truly I care not how you may react

Because I’m bent on writing this poem – now that’s a simple fact

I’m not being at all tetchy although it may seem that way

It’s just how I am wording this poem in what I’m trying to say

Sometimes it’s quite difficult to phrase lines in such a way they don’t offend

I will try and get it right before I reach the end

Conversation sure has a way of getting people involved

In the general happenings of a particular day or how wars might be resolved

There are two topics I shy away from – people’s politics and their religion

For no matter how much you debate on them – you will never change their decision

Also I will never get involved with a drunk at a public bar

Unless that is he makes his way out and attempts to drive his car.

Returning to the task in hand – that attempt a poem to compose

That word I heard uttered – Honestly I really can’t disclose.

C. J. Black©β

1st May 2013.

Tuesday 30th April 2013

Clancy, my fictitious friend.

C. J. Black©β  13 of 13.

What are you looking for asked a perplexed Fictitious Clancy?

Searching for an intellectual tickle I replied or something to tickle the readers fancy!!

I have no idea how he landed in my subconscious, but from frog spawn etc; etc; etc;

Hopefully I’ve joined all the dots

He is quite harmless really but then again, I’m assured leopards do at times change their spots.

You intellectual, smirked Fic Clancy

I’d hate to be your ventriloquist dummy I fancy

It wasn’t like Fic to be snide with his remarks

I told him in no uncertain manner, that out of 10 he’d deserve no marks

Fic was rather taken aback by this

Said he’d forget what I’d said and was willing to dismiss –

This bone of contention I seemingly had to pick with him

I said just a minute you started this discussion – now my patience was getting slim.

What to do to resolve this matter

Before this friendship I’m forced to shatter

Took myself to one side had a discussion on the subject

Thought about it long and hard – how to resolve it was my main object

I find when I have a problem to resolve

The best bet is to get lost in the record collection – watch the vinyl revolve

Fic Clancy and I have an eclectic collection

Depending on the mood determines the selection

More than likely start with Haggard followed closely by the late George Jones and some Mr. Tear Drop (Marty Robbins)

Then we’d beef it up a little with some classic vintage 60’s pop

A great way it must be said

To clear the mind and put quarrels to bed

Then when matters are thrashed out and resolved

We’d both agree a truce – problem solved

Fic would never be one to hold a grudge or leave a problem there to fester

If you were following his antics you’ll know he likes to play the court jester

So our discussion was on what caused this dilemma we find ourselves in

Fic said he heard a rumour that he was destined for the shred-it bin

I assured him this would not happen unless I was otherwise provoked

But for the time being he was destined for oblivion – unless, I joked

Those that who have followed thus far wish us to return and their fancies tickle

Me – I would never count my chickens – I’m a member of Joe Public I know to well the meaning of the word fickle!!!