Tiny pleasures

Cherry blossom snow,
sweet birdsong. Tiny pleasures
my child will never know.

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Spring Haiku

how small our late spring
how sweet our parting sorrow!


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National Poetry Writing Month, day 30; April 30th

Finishing line in sight!
Watch what follows.

The goal you seek
is not the goal.

Thanks for following, sorry I have not replied to many. My regular photoblog is at http://www.blipfoto.com/woodpeckers, and I hope to keep publishing smaller micro poems, and combining them with my photographs. you may have to join blipfoto now to view my blog, which is a pity, but on the other hand there are some wonderful photojournals on the site, and some very entertaining writing.

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National Poetry Writing Month, day 29, April 29th

Nabucco at the Apollo

at the cinema
no need to wear furs.

average age seventy
reverential, awed

By pure music
the power of the voice
Lingering, long

We climb into taxis
soar through the skies,

Still singing,
ears ringing, ignited
in suffering and song.

This could be better. Maybe I’ll polish it one day, but the essence of an idea is here, about how music helps one transcend the ordinary, and transports one into another realm and able to empathise with other people’s lives and stories. The thing about publishing a poem a day during April is that sometimes all there is time to do is write down the bones (to quote Natalie Goldberg), and come back to them later. What with working, and going to see the opera at the cinema, sometimes there are not enough hours in the day.

Let’s hope it’ll look a little more fleshy in due course! I am still reeling from the music and don’t want to get intellectual about it.

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National Poetry Writing Month, day 28, April 28th

Greys like this

Days like this, of greyness
when the spring, which seemed to be sprung
retreats, leaving the washing sagging
on the line; the birds scratching bare earth;
the flowers tightly furled; kettle unboiled
tea still dry in the packet.

How much longer will the swan sit
on her nest? Could it be that there’ll
be no hatching; that spring will turn
backwards; the flame wither and dwindle,
as winter returns to the land?

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National Poetry Writing Month, Day 27, April 27th


you fire me up
you pierce me
I long for you
your tongue, your touch
as the marshmallow longs
for the toasting fork.

Another ‘poem of sarcastic dislilke’ as suggested by another National Poetry Writing Month exercise, but this one is more complex than the previous ones. I overheard a domestic argument near our garden last night. The police were called in the end, but the abuser got away. Combined with an evening of new writing on the theme of domestic abuse that I attended recently, the theme has continue to echo around my head. This is just a start. I guess it’s about wanting something/someone that you know is bad for you, or is likely to do you harm.

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National Poetry Writing Month, day 26, April 26th


Deep green at last!
Winter’s bleached fields recede,
giving way to grasshopper,
racing green, tempting turf
for rolling and strolling,
breathing vast lungfuls. Green
lights us to freedom:
Go ahead! Go now!

Another poem based on the idea of the four line sentence. Written while eating breakfast overlooking green fields. Spring is finally with us!

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