New paintings and regular art updates.
This image is for illustration purposes only and does not represent the people in the poem.
Love held them together, and apart, for twenty years,
First love was theirs, second love someone else’s.
Only third love bought them together again.
Maybe a fourth love will change things?
77% awake at 4.06 am?
77% alive?
77% of life gone?
Only 77% energy?
Three quarters or so full of vim and vigour?
Where did the other 23% go?
77% of questions answered?
77% of sleep yet to fill?
Waiting for 100% capacity,
Striving for 23% more enthusiasm.
Fighting for 77% of recognition,
Hating 77% of what?
So much to say and do,
Give me twenty three percent more!
Ah, now it’s 79% at 4.18am…….
I saw this challenge on Facebook.
Type a phrase then chose the middle button of spell checker to continue. I thought it might make a poem? The phrase is… I tripped over….
I tripped over
I don’t know what to do
I don’t know if you have the same thing
But I can send you a link
I can add buttons to the list
You might end up with a cold
I have edited the last one first
Good to be a bit more practical
But all I want to get is the best
I have been working on the first week
And the last one they had with me
Food and water and all those days.
Well I’m not sure what I think of it, I think it’s quite emotionless. It’s only an algorithm though. My words. I did edit it slightly otherwise it would have said ‘sent from my Xperia’…
Rose,
Intricate,
Beautiful,
Layers of petals swirl,
Scent of softness
Cream centred
Like whipped cream
Veluptuous,
Soft,
Enticing,
Gentle,
But for your thorns.
The sun was shining through the clouds at Spode this afternoon giving everything a moody look.
Grey clouds, leaden
A glimmer of sun
Bright, yellow, hot
Sizzles through the clouds.
Humid heat festers
Industrial view languishes
Only a few plants
And a cat sleeping in the dust,
But alive,
Better than ruins.
Today’s view,
long drive.
More later!
I’m too small
The world’s too big
Shouting in the dark,
The world’s too small
Solar system so big,
Shouting in the dark,
Sun’s system is small
The galaxy is big
Shouting in the dark –
The galaxy is small
The universe is big
I’m shouting in the dark.
Shouting into infinity.
Is anyone out there –
To hear?
When cats get in the way
You just have to live with it
Or push her away?
Give her attention
Let her just play.
Jumping and leaping
Up on my lap,
Knocking my paints over,
Splashing the water,
Sharpening her claws
On my canvas.
She’s lovely
But mad.
She sat at the top of the stairs
Sitting proud on the ledge,
Peeking out
From behind the foliage,
Staring at me.
She was loving and gentle.
Liked the sun,
Bathed in light.
Gemma was my best friend.
And I forgot! I don’t know if it’s the same day every year. Anyway I’ve written a little poem in its honour. The best Oatcake poem I ever read was by the artist Arthur Berry. Look it up if you can.
Oatcakes are a pancakes cousin,
designed for savoury
not sweet.
Try with cheese and tomato,
can be eaten cold,
but I prefer heat.
Chilli sauce would add a tickle,
beetroot would be neat.
Oatcakes are a breakfast tipple,
with a good strong cup of tea.
Lunch you find with salad topping
grated cheese and pickle too.
Tea for two an Oatcake feasting,
Maybe sweet with cream or jam.
Versatile the little Oatcake,
Made with simple love you see,
Stoke-on-Trents tortilla, tasty.
Makes a meal for you and me
Mallaband-Brown