Tag Archives: poet

I am the devil

I know what I am

I am the devil

I am man

I lived on Earth and it I ran

It fell apart

I broke your heart

I caused you pain

Made you insane

Now you have to, start again

I am the devil

Your bane

I broke your heart

Drove you insane

And I will always

Do it again

Until you have me

Home again

If you want peace on earth

Bring me home

Back to heaven

I’m so alone

I won’t stop

Till I’m at your throne

Kneeling down

On the dais stone

Before your feet

I need your sweet

Hand to touch me

And I need

To come on home

Kneeling down

Before your throne

I need heaven

My home again

Bring on back

Your wicked men

So that we

Can love again

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Poetry sneaks in

I know I write poetry and this blog used to be known for that; but I seldom read poetry personally.  I read Byron, Christina Rossetti, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Wilfred Owen, Pam Ayres and silly kid stuff like Spike Milligan and Dr Seuss; but generally, besides these, nothing else. 

I read Wilfred Owen purely for GCSEs and I think I have read some of Sylvia Plath too, but those were for studies only. 

I have been recently reading a lot of country and wildlife journals and I keep seeing another poet mentioned a lot in there with quotes; this has spurred me onto wanting to read more of him and I got Paul to get a book from the library for me of him.  “John Clare”, this could be a new influence if I am honest.

Also I consider Neil Gaiman to be a poet too; I love some of his short stuff sometimes more than his long stuff, he is another influence of mine.

Upon reflection, I think perhaps I read more poetry than I take for granted.  A lot of the novels I love are crammed packed with verse and rhymes, like Alice in Wonderland etc.  See poetry sneaks into funny places; it’s easy to take advantage of it and not notice it when it wafts in front of your face.  Anyone who says they are not particularly fond of poetry are liars, even street gangsta types and chavs who gets embarrassed by the notion that they even pick up a poetry book – sorry to say it to you guys, but you love poetry.  Every song is a poem and that means rap IS poetry too!

See the world with fresh eyes and you will see it’s so true!

Happy reading!

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Spring

So many

Pretty flowers

Return every year

Interesting in colour and patterns, to me are so dear

Never bleak in springtime

Gardens burst in bloom, colouring the world again after winter’s gloom!

 

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Truth about witches

Oh yes witches are bitches

You shouldn’t cross us at all

You are a stupid person

Who doesn’t know fuck all

You sit and play with candles

You sit and play with words

You sit and design your potions

How utterly absurd

You sit and preach your karma

You sit and judge us all

You deny the darkest powers

That sits to serve us all

You fill your cauldron with rose petals and salt

If your spell doesn’t work, it is your own fault

These are the qualities of a true love potion

Chocolate, chillies, cinnamon, plums and your devotion

Not all spells are to go inside a pot

Not all spells are obvious

But you wouldn’t know a lot

Your knowledge comes from people who have blather flair

You will not find love potions in book shops or book fairs

Now heed what I say

Hear me strong and loud

A witch doesn’t sell her power

That is not allowed

To give away your knowledge

Give away for free

You can do this if you want

But you shouldn’t if you were me

You lose power with every spell you share

This isn’t something, they teach you at book fairs

Witches cast your spells, but cast them with scrutiny

For if you share too much, the powers will mutiny

Only a true witch, knows things like this and more

Do not trust the ones who shares spells like a whore

All ye songs I sing on this blog and elsewhere

Are all make believe, the real ones you’ll find NOWHERE

This is the creed of all witches, all witches that are true

Witchcraft is inside my blood, but it isn’t inside of you

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Phantoms of the sea

We hear echoes in the dark like night

But it is daylight outside right now

We are in a mouldy damp place

Shadowed with stones around

Every footstep is like a heartbeat

Every movement a rustle like many leaves

Everything is black and wet

This is a home for us thieves

We are scurvy vagabonds

Fresh from the sea

This is our hiding place

It’s not nice, but it keeps us free

We do not wander in the daylight hours

We sit and wait till dark

Then once everyone is tucked in bed

A commandeered new ship we’ll embark

We keep this way forever

We are the pirate ghosts

Though some say we look fresh and alive

If I said I had flesh I’d boast

We’re not like what we used to be

What we are I really don’t know

But we don’t have mortal concerns and we have far to go

So maybe we will see you on the shores of some sea town

But it is likely if we see you, you will surely drown

What we are, I cannot tell

But we won’t be looked on at all

If you see us, by perchance

We will take you to Poseidon’s ball

Some may even call it Hell

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You know who you are!

If you don’t like my literature, why do you still read?

Especially when things are hard to chew and supposedly make your heart bleed?

Why do you still watch me, every day and night?

It’s been a decade – get over me, I don’t think your head is quite right

You sit and curse and you watch me still

You know I am sick and very ill

But you keep watching, I think you’re waiting

Just sitting back and anticipating

I wonder if she will die?

Well fuck off you dirty rotten fly!

Just thought I should add, this is to certain specific people who I personally knew once, not people who read this and don’t know me!  Ha-ha

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Winter

Why so bleak?

It is the season

Never warm, always cold

Though thrilling festivals forthwith

Ever singing in the New Year

Riding the end of the year in larks and laughs

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Autumn is the crisp morning dew

Autumn is the crisp morning dew followed by golden sunshine and rains of multi-coloured leaves

Everything crunching under foot with a satisfying crunch, scrunch, crunch

Delicious spices fill the air with pies, casseroles and soups

Harvest time for all, pumpkins, squashes, apples and more

Cheeky children knocking at Halloween’s door, begging for candies and little treats

You have to give it to them, they are so sweet

Dew drops start to freeze in the cooling air

Summer is gone without a care

Soon it shall be winter

Bonfires burn and glow, fireworks emblazon the night skies

The fire is filled to the brim with wood, hear it snap, snap snap to a crisp in the heat

Winter shall be here in a heart beat

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Autumn

Always colourful

Under trees I walk

That rain

Unwanted leaves

Merrily I step into autumn

Never too cold or warm – it always pleases me

 

 

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Acrostic exploration

I am tentatively venturing into the world of acrostic poetry.  Something I don’t have much confidence for, but I would like to explore it a bit more.

For those who are not in the know, acrostic poetry takes a form that is like this; 

Elizabeth it is in vain you say

“Love not”—thou sayest it in so sweet a way:

In vain those words from thee or L. E. L.

Zantippe’s talents had enforced so well:

Ah! if that language from thy heart arise,

Breathe it less gently forth—and veil thine eyes.

Endymion, recollect, when Luna tried

To cure his love—was cured of all beside—

His folly—pride—and passion—for he died.

As you can see a poetic line (I am not very good with jargon) starts with the first letter of a word in each sentence.  This was written by Edgar Allan Poe and it is called ELIZABETH.

It should flow well into each other, each line and remain within the subject matter which is the word you are working from.

There are many poetry competitions in the UK which specialise on only acrostic entries and most of those competitions offer prizes of £150 for the win – I have never taken the plunge to enter any creative writing competitions, but I am hoping to change this someday.

You will see a new category on my blog soon purely for acrostic poetry.

I also wanted to mention today in this post that I am no longer doing the Sunday word counts as I find it sometimes demoralising – especially when I don’t reach my 10k goal, for some reason or another making my failure public seem all the more worse.

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