| That Personal Touch |
Good poets all have one thing in common. They are good observers. This doesn’t just mean that they like people-watching. To understand life and the people around us, we also need to understand a lot about ourselves and how we react to people and situations.
So you have to be in touch with your inner self to be able to write good poetry. It is an art form which requires the author to be skilled at analysing himself, or herself, and others.
That is why we asked a group of poets to write something creative and interesting on the subject of That Personal Touch.
The results are fascinating. Each poet has thrown a different interpretation on the subject and brought something to this volume which makes it so wide-ranging and diverse that it covers the whole spectrum of human life.
So we hope that you can feel what they feel, see what they see, and understand what they are trying to say to you on this page.
THE STREETS OF WHEEL WIRE STEEL
Wind
wound and strut staggered against the wandering sounds
of
Swiped clouds meandering golden and drowsed bluing then bolted
And clasped and brick struck silenced below the poisoned
blaze
Tomb rattled tourniquets that spade the crimson diamonds
against
The space wounds and whale dunes as fire snakes wreak raid
and
Blame sliding and towering infernal blistered and saturated
To stand glue blue and true crushed and gathered against
the
Turret terrors of endless living death tones that shout and
Slander shimmering above the iced shafts the will the wind
and
Circles of thrill and mimic the leviathans the planetariums
And the delinquents that push pain rain stain and terrain
the
Limerick as a train flowered platoon illusion painted and
Buttressed drips the dew vain consign within the heart the
Presence and the inevitable eloquence
Meleeze Zenda
HALLOWEEN NIGHT
Fright, fright from the night
With the heart that is scare
With a heartbeats that is beating
So fast with fright in the middle of the night
That scares you with fright as you are crueling up
So scare with fright so your fate is up to a halloween night
Sandra Goddard
HOUSE FOR SALE
There is a house for sale in our street
Which has lattice windows
And curtains so neat
There are hanging baskets
With various coloured flowers
People stop and gaze
Sometimes for hours
The children have grown
And have now moved away
The old folk are alone
So they don’t want to stay
A smaller house with less to do
With a rockery garden
And a fishpond too
They’ll have their memories
From over the years
Which will bring them smiles
And also a few tears
Violetta J Ferguson
TOGETHER
In
the time of my youth, I’d done all the rounds
Now in my manhood, need both feet on the ground
Time to stand, to show my mettle
Time for sharing, a time to settle
Who would you choose in this wonderful world
Who could be left, since all stones I’d turned
Who could there be, with that personal touch
Who from out there, could love me so much
I have such a lady, the joy of my life
Both loving and sharing that lady, my wife
D Savage
THE JET PLANE
On the shelf is a folder
In which I keep your drawings,
Simple shapes you coloured
When you were very young.
Then when you were three
You drew for me my favourite
The “jet plane with jet power.”
A new design for future craft,
Tube shaped, rounded front, no wings,
With windows down the centre
And power bursting from the base
Sending it skywards
On a journey to the unknown
With you behind the controls
Steering it towards the stars.
Gillian Whittome
Dedicated to my grandson Arthur.
I’D
LIKE TO
I’d
like to stroke a penguin on a sunny afternoon,
I’d like to picnic with an elephant in the summer
month of June.
I’d like to swing from branch to branch upon the
tallest tree,
I’d like to sing and whirl and dance about, have
supper with a bee.
I’d like to talk of world affairs and ask a rat’s
advice,
I’d like to know what snakes think about, discuss
philosophy with mice.
I’d like to ask a ferret what he thought of all day
long,
I’d like to climb trees with squirrels, find the meaning
of bird song.
I’d like to tango with a turtle, do the can-can with
a shark,
I’d like to rumba with a crocodile, I’m sure
we’d have a lark.
There are so many things to do, so much I must not miss,
I hope to do them all some day and follow my own bliss.
Georgina Voller
THE BLACKBIRD
How sweet the blackbird sings his song
You know it will not be too long
Before the other birds sing their chorus too
What pleasure they give for me and you
The light is now fading fast
But the magic of these evenings will last
With the scent of the wallflowers in bloom
Their fragrance fills every room
As I sit upon my garden seat
Many other flowers lie near my feet
Tulips around the tree their colour red
Peonies too, near my garden shed
I realise how lucky I am to own
Such a beautiful garden although I’m alone
I have such happy memories of the past
Those times I recall will always last
No-one can take these thoughts away
For they remain in our hearts till our dying day
Enid Skelton
IT’S
RAINING AGAIN
“It’s
raining again,”
Called a stranger
As she hurriedly passed me by
“Yes, miserable,” I replied in agreement
As I noted the disgust in her eyes
For like her I felt pretty miserable
Soaking wet and shivering inside
Until a vision of a hurricane
That I had been horrified of
Gripped me inside
And I realised how lucky we were
This was nothing, we were safe and alive
And I prayed for God’s strength
To be with those who survived.
Joan Kernick
BEYOND ALL THINGS
It is midnight, I stand barefoot and alone on
The beach bathed in warm memories, as foam
From the waves caress my feet, the sound
Of the ocean expressing my thoughts in
This calm reflection of a moment in time
I gaze above at the stars and my thoughts
Turn to the mystery they hold, as they hang
Attached to the screen of night with moonlight
Casting shade, capturing their brilliance
Reflecting as a mirror their radiance
The sky deep purple and blue, artists
Palette could not do justice to its colours for
Truly it is magnificent, I sigh for such beauty
Beyond all things so few truly see, and
I am content
Sheila Rogers
Dedicated to my husband Ernie, my boys, Steve and Dave, grandsons, Tom, Callum, Ethan, and Jan and Julie, to those I love, they know who they are.
PEAR STANDS
Pear stands, square stands, everything money can buy
Oranges and lemons won’t assemble if you gamble each
dime
Pear stands, square stands save you from your teacher’s
bad eyes
Duncan and Merilee, don’t you give your mother cold
lies
Schooldays camouflaged with your intermittent goodbyes
Pear stands, square stands dupe you on your Jekyll and Hyde
One-arm-bandit, magic carpet rides
Folding medicine, jungle-like, lucid and warm
Fulcrums out-of-kelter, tortured like a lilac blamange
Pear stands, square stands, where did all the lemons go wrong?
Useless merriment fills you like a decadent play
Shoulders knee-high, horse-whipped to your ultimate fate
Pear stands, square stands leave you in a cryptogenic state
John Matthew
Born in Dundee, John Matthew has interests including the cinema. “Americana influences my work and I would describe my style as complex,” he pointed out. “I would like to be remembered as someone who persevered and triumphed in the face of adversity. It is my ambition to be an actor and I was a film extra in the movie Chariots of Fire. The person I would most like to meet is Stephen King because he revitalised a genre. My biggest fantasy is to tour my star-sign planet, Saturn. I have written a Christmas song as well as many poems, four of which have been published.”
A WOMAN AND A MAN
I am the flowing river
You are the floating boat
I carry you and I carry yours
I lead you to follow me
Your modes are the clouds
My moods are the floods
I need to let you follow me
You need to follow the flow
I flirt with your manners
You skit with my mannerisms
I long your kind expressions
You live to find impressions
We need each other so much
So let’s heed for that personal touch
Anantha Rudravajhala
LIFE
Look at life, it wears you down
Turn to those who turn around
Keep your mind firmly in tune
Ring the changes that fall to you
Misery and discontent, cast them all aside
Leave your dream, chase your life
Tears will soon all pass away
Anger’s tides blow far astray
Laughter keeps the tracks of years
Easing worries, failing fears
Collecting times to always treasure
Only for dust to fall and gather
Memories remain in time to fade
But life it’s there to live each day
Challenges to rise to do abound
Don’t let life wear you down
Martine Gafney