Tag Archives: Blogging

Friday Poem: Earthfast

Architects plant their imagination, weld their poems on rock,
Clamp them to the skidding rim of the world and anchor them down to its core;
Leave more than the painter’s or poet’s snail-bright trail on a friable leaf;
Can build their chrysalis round them – stand in their sculpture’s belly.

They see through stone, they cage and partition air, they cross-rig space
With footholds, planks for a dance; yet their maze, their flying trapeze
Is pinned to the centre. They write their euclidean music standing
With a hand on a cornice of cloud, themselves set fast, earth-square.

 

 

Poetry describing a technical profession—bliss!

Guest Artist, Glenys Doull of New Zealand

A wonderful selection of poems from Glenys, otherwise known as ‘LifeCameos’ here on WordPress and a poet I always make time to read whenever she posts. Do visit and enjoy…..

QuickTurtle Books®

It is my privilege to introduce Glenys as part of our Guest Artist Series.  I believe she is an important poet of our times and for the people.  Unencumbered by the literary judgements of intellectuals, she is part of the movement to return poetry to the people–where it rightfully belongs.  I hope you take the time to enjoy her wonderful skill of imagery and verse.

These poems are used by permission and copyrighted by Glenys Doull.

Sweet Peas

Heavily scented warm
summer air draws in
buzzing bees eagerly
seeking precious nectar.

Sweet peas swarm up
netting on the old shed wall
a perfumed rainbow
tapestry of many hues.

Pale pastels to bright
reds, purples, pinks,
blues and lilacs paint a
masterpiece on old timbers.

Rich pickings for the
school children’s flower show.

View original post 1,136 more words

Desert sky

Driving in a roast red desert
Headlights staring into primeval dark
The untrammeled sky glorious

Above us a bridge of stars
Rivering between rocky horizons
At once near and so very far

Cricking my neck to see
I bounced around the back of the open jeep
Absorbing, amid the shudders, splendor

Star birth and death, worlds hidden by distance
Great glowing nebulae
Fat in the centre, a devouring black hole

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Poetry makes nothing happen

Poetry makes nothing happen

Poetry may make nothing happen, but poetry happens to me
Announces its first line as others worm into my brain
Poetry flows stuttering from head to fingers to paper or screen
Words arrive and force themselves out
Typed frantically into the phone at the roadside, scribbled on random sheets
Telling stories, painting pictures, crying love or grief
It is mine in so much as I capture and tidy it
In so much as the stories, pictures, loves and grief’s are mine
Sometimes I can pull the inspiration to me
Make it give me the means for what I need or want to express
Make it work for me (like now)
But mostly it is a response

Poetry happens

To me

Copyright © 2017  Kim Whysall-Hammond

The picture quotes Leonard Cohen

Inspired by:

For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives
In the valley of its making where executives
Would never want to tamper, flows on south
From ranches of isolation and the busy griefs,
Raw towns that we believe and die in; it survives,
A way of happening, a mouth.

WH Auden

Voting for poem of the month

My poem Broken Cable has been shortlisted for Ink, Sweat and Tears  Poem of the month for March 2017! Public voting is at https://www.surveymonkey.co.uk/r/7V5XFKP

Voting will close at 9pm on Thursday 13th April. The shortlist is at http://www.inksweatandtears.co.uk/pages/?cat=72

I’m going to be cheeky and ask that you vote for my poem. Here it is once more:

Broken cable

In the middle of the bright Atlantic
Floating on the swell between island volcanoes
Looking past reflective surface tension
To silvered gas bubbles beneath catching the light

And across the issuing rift

A long snake of data cable
Broken sheared twisted.

As the gas breaks the surface
We hear voices
Blogs bubbling to the top
Instructions to buy or sell
A thousand tiny voices
Sparkling in the sunshine
Several parrot fish swim by
Next day when snorkelling
I fancy I hear fish blogging

Copyright © 2017  Kim Whysall-Hammond