Poetry Showcase – December 2011

Monday, 12 December 2011

Archive of all Poetry Space showcases

First Snow of Winter

@ Chris Sims

We wake to a world bewitched,
a black and white negative
of itself. Hunchback gardens
crouch beneath a gun-grey sky
like a flock of gulls
huddled shoulder to shoulder
on some salty shoreline.

Feathered trees thrust out
bare branches, wide as wings,
across the bleak horizon.
Blackbirds balance on the
snow-sheathed fence, their
beaks ripping bright holes
in the colourless morning.

© Moira Andrew
© Chris Sims Cock Rd Ridge in Snow

Wine Appreciation

“Why is this called the Merlot lot?”
I asked

“It’s the type of grape seedling,”
said the manager

“So… the Merlot grapes,
are for Merlot wine?”

“And Shiraz grapes
are for Shiraz wine?”
added the manager with a nod

“Some grapes are picked mouldy,”
she continued

“I suppose red grapes
are for red wine,
and white grapes
are for white wine?”
I asked

After 8 weeks
into the 12 week contract
it finally clicked….

“Oooh… so that’s why
it’s called the Chardonnay lot.”

she paused.
“Also explains the Cabernet lot,
the Sauvignon lot,
and…. the Riesling lot too”

I suppose
it was the best place
for a bit of vineyard education.

Richard James Bell © 24th August 2010

Apollo the Great

Who showered the creative jewels down on earth,
The lyrics, Tunes, melodies, songs and notes,
spreading the hypnotic,
Trance to human life,
Apollo the God of Music.
Who switched the largest lamp of the world,
The sun to engulf the whole planet with pure
Luminosity so darkness can meet its match,
Apollo the God of Light.
Who foretold the future,
The world’s catastrophes, natural disasters,
Plagues of doom unleashed,
Ancient mysticism maybe,
Or the omniscient All Seeing Eye,
Apollo the God of prophecy.
Who invented natural medicine,
Cures, remedies to combat ill health,
Eliminate suffering and pain,
To make the weak strong again,
Only on one place, earth
Apollo the god of healing.

© Neelam Shah


© Chris Sims

My youngness is rushing out
Spent wisps of never again
Such loveliness, levity, airiness
Dreaminess and time’s laughing luxury

Screaming ghosts and new-born dreams
Swallowed up in used-up nows
Fleeing bubbles in a below-water breath
Throbbing questions, washing out

Something beautiful, nowhere-bound
Now-dusty thens and wrinkling thoughts
Misty dreams whipping away
Pouring, soaring, memory-bound

I am running out
Slippery fingers with no more grip
Tired sighs from a looted heart
And forever walking straight ahead

© Jane Parry

Love Story of 1900

It’s a pain my eyes are soaked in tears

It’s a shame my strength has sorted to beer


Was it a crime to fall in love again?

I just can’t help myself

Coz I was a fool in misguided love cell

And will take off the past rain

to allow my soul to rest

Copyright (c) 2011

Michael Kwaku Kesse Somuah (Ghana)

Still the River Flows

Sitting on the riverside
Wet amongst my toes
Summer heat, tired feet
Still the river flows.

Worries lie in crumpled heap
Fortune comes and goes
Dragonflies dancing ,bees are humming
Still the river flows.

Sitting lost in meditation
Tides of hesitation grows
Swans are gliding, coots are hiding
Still the river flows.

I rise and walk along the path
The oarsman gently rows
Even if I stand and stop
Still the river flows.

© Alan Keane

What’s for you won’t go by you!

© Chris Sims

I feel secure as a person, happy with myself;
even though I know I am dying. Even though I’m dying
lucky in lots of ways- supported, loved. In love with life.

Loving this Autumn, the golds, reds and russets on the trees.

The sounds of leaves rustling with soft voices in the wind.
How nurturing nature is from birth to death and back again.

I love the twilight melody of the sea and the birds early in the morning.

I see poppy fields filled with the faces of all my friends,
family who are dear to me far or near; gone, still here.

I want everyone to be strong, to go on after this wife, this mother is a
distant spirit. I pretend to be brave, but what is bravery ?
I am resilient and feel an inner calm, an acceptance.

I touch life, caress those I will leave with thoughts and memories

even as my tears reflect the things I will miss – my children growing up, married;
future families. The love I have for people, the love they have for me.

Time waits patiently for me around the corner….

Yet I am here for now and will live my life as best I can
for everyone I hold dear to me. Fields of love opening like flowers.

Yes I know that I am dying, yet even when I can’t sleep

I dream a dream that everything will be okay… and it will,
though not in the ordinary way. My family will survive for them and for me.

I want to be dignified in death, not linger desperately. I will be Me to the last.
I don’t want my family to suffer, I want them to celebrate me .I don’t
want to leave them but….. what’s for you won’t ever go by.

© Eilis Gregor

November Showcase