Thursday, 29 September 2016

Change of pace

Around people

Some people are sweet,
Some people are mean,
Some people laugh blue,
Some people cry green.

Some people stride forth,
Some people don't know,
Some people feel lonely,
Wherever they go.

Some people eat no meat,
Some people drink gin,
Some people stay hungry,
Whatever goes in.

Some people hunt comfort,
Some people need less,
Some people like questions,
Some people love mess.

Some people feel different,
Some try not to feel,
Some people seek perfect,
Some people want real.

Some people say “what's that?
Real – did you say?
Don't you know real
Isn't real anyway?”

Some people get tired,
Some people give in,
Some people keep at it,
Some people drink gin.

Some people love winning,
Some don't mind defeat,
Some people are mean,
Some people are sweet.

RF 2009

An older poem. I've not been writing much rhyming verse of late. I think I miss it sometimes.

And the photo was taken in July at The Lighthouse in Glasgow (a detail on a window). The company responsible for the detail (and many others around the building) is called O Street. I really like a little detail that manages to be so simple and yet say so much. Some people make big buildings, some people make the little details on the buildings... and so on, and so on...

Tuesday, 13 September 2016

In the trees...

No name

Never used to be this vague,
Had definition,
Had pronouns,
Went places,
Knew things.

Now, lately, amongst trees,
There’s merging,
Less edge,
More wood,
Gaps blurring.

Could make fear,
But that’s spent.
Time is a record
With new groove.
Oak, larch, pine.

RF 2016

It seems the poetry sickness is back for sure... it's not even Friday yet and here I am. Anyway, to quote Stevie Wonder, "I don't want to bore you with it..." but I will continue because it doesn't hurt anybody and I know some people are reading (despite comment sparsity - the stats say so and so do actual human beings.. when I encounter them...). There have been tree poems before (old one here, back in Poetry Bus days...). There will be again...

Today's photo was taken in a tree in California in May 2011.

Friday, 9 September 2016

Another Friday...

Another Friday, another poem. Not sure how long this run will (or should) last. Today's poem is new. The photo was taken up Lossiemouth's Covesea lighthouse in July this year. I like windows.


Sister, I never knew you,
Not your stories or your places.
I barely knew your name.

There are waves between us.
Extreme mysteries.

I try to read your eyes,
Open gates, make roads,
Unfold a future.

RF 2016

Friday, 2 September 2016

Stars on Friday

Some stars

It’s not the sadness
We love the most;
That can come easy,
We all know that.

It’s more the soaring
That calls us close,
The stretch, the gasp,
The ‘how did they...?’

We say things like,
‘They made it look easy’,
But the truth shouts loud,
The power of wow.

RF 2016

So, this is a new poem, another wee thing. It was prompted by, for a start, listening to singer/songwriter/musician Kathryn Williams talking about her passion, if you like, for the work of Sylvia Plath (radio programme here... I don't know how long that link will be live...). Also it's influenced, I am sure, by my having another listening-to-heaps-of-Amy-Winehouse period of late (and that was prompted possibly by another blogger here...). I almost can't describe the effect that that Winehouse voice has on me sometimes... and it's not about the tattoos and the look, the misery, the waste etc. etc.... it is the sound, the effort and the work of it. There are lots of other singers and voices that I adore (I heard Gil Scott Heron's 'B Movie' on the radio the other day and had a moment... sound and content - love!) but Amy's voice is definitely up there in my (quite large) 'favourites' pile. Here's a blast of her, because the wow can pull you through:

Photo at the top of this post is local Sunnyside ex-hospital (yes, again), taken last week, through shades...