Mimnermus in Church by William Cory
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Monthly Archives: January 2017
Poetry: Painted Words
This poem by Linda Wolff speaks for itself.
I wish I could paint it… in a picture.
Hateful words—Hurtful words.
Words that are, carelessly thrown from an open mouth.
Words that cut, right through to the soul.
The way they bleed internally.
Some will never allow the invisible scars, to be visible.
Some will never know, it steals one’s, soul.
I wish I could show, how hurtful, hateful words,
look on canvas and how the paint flows over ridges.
How something so colorful, becomes black droplets.
Maybe no one would want to throw words, without thinking.
©Linda J. Wolff – http://www.urbanpoetry2017.com
PREVIEW 5 Poems FREE from ‘My Vibrating Vertebrae’ by Agnes Mae Graham…
We all have dreams, loves and hopes; but what if you are a girl growing up in 20th century Northern Ireland before, during and after the ‘Troubles’?
From the poetic thoughts of Agnes Mae Graham, we get a sense of what it was like, ranging from humour, sadness, wistful thinking and sometimes just downright nonsensical, these are the words of one such girl.
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I Heard An Angel Sigh
I heard an angel sigh
And ask “why oh why
Must I
Fly
In Azure sky.
I spy
A man below
And I would go
Amaying,
But my conscience is asaying
Angels belong up here.
‘Yet ‘tis drear
To see one so handsome and so near!
I fear
That I shall fall
And my angel dust
Shall turn to gall”.
A handsome man, looking upwards, did softly say,
“The day
Is beautiful. Pray
Float down
In your gossamer gown
From that painted sky.
Ney do not resist or frown.
You and I
May our sorrows drown
In yonder pub, for the audience refused to pay,
To see our most excellent play …!”
On Passing By
The estate agent’s lights fade.
I wander home,
Thinking on other temporary things.
Inventing a Word for It
Pop quiz time!
The word “vellichor” is:
a. An adjective describing an agitated, violent state
b. A term taken from Latin meaning “one who sings”
c. The name of an alien species in the “Frigid Worlds” series of sci-fi novels
d. A word indicating the strange wistfulness of used bookstores
Ready? Have you chosen your final answer? No going back and switching to a different choice. No cheating either.
The correct answer is “d“.
Vellichor is “the strange wistfulness of used bookstores, which are somehow infused with the passage of time—filled with thousands of old books you’ll never have time to read, each of which is itself locked in its own era, bound and dated and papered over like an old room the author abandoned years ago, a hidden annex littered with thoughts left just as they were on the day they were captured.”
In a recent post…
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How my poems come to me
On 17 January, I received the following comment/question in response to my limerick “There was a young lady called Lou”:
“Do these like, just pop into your mind; or do you have a scrapbook full of them?” (https://newauthoronline.com/2017/01/17/there-was-a-young-lady-called-lou/#comment-49477).
I replied as follows:
“Thank you for your comment. I thought this one up while eating boiled egg on toast and drinking Earl Grey tea this morning! Many of my poems come to me while walking my dog. Being blind I don’t carry a notebook. I have never learned to write by hand. I do, however touch type and write my poems using a standard Windows laptop equipped with Job Access with Speech or JAWS (software which converts text into speech and braille relaying the screen’s contents to me). I write my poems either at home or in my lunch hour in the office”, (https://newauthoronline.com/2017/01/17/there-was-a-young-lady-called-lou/#comment-49478).
In light of the above exchange, I thought it would be helpful for me to expand on how my poems come to me.
As I said in response to Daria’s question, “There was a young Lady called Lou” popped into my mind as I was enjoying egg on toast with a piping hot cup of Earl Grey, while other poems come to me as I walk my guide dog Trigger. It is frequently remarked that exercise is good for both the mental and the physical self. I would certainly endorse this view as a brisk walk often leads to the composition of a poem. I can not, however swear that all poems appear on paper exactly as they originally churned around my mind. My memory is good but far from being photographic in nature.
At other times I sit in front of my laptop pleading with my muse to take pity on me and whisper words of inspiration:
She is a fickle mistress who oft times does tease
And, on occasions doth please
The poet in search of inspiration
With which to wow the nation.
To my consternation
She does come and go
But, I know
‘Twas always so
And ‘twill remain
Until my life drains away
Or I, in senility, languish one day.
Kevin
There Was A Young Man Called Mike
There was a young man called Mike
Who said “I can do as I like”.
He two-timed his girl
(her name was Pearl).
She said “Mike, get on your bike!”
—
The term To “two-time” is an informal way of indicating that someone has been unfaithful to their partner.
Again, the term “on your bike” is an informal way of saying “never darken my door again” or, to put it more bluntly “get lost”!
I have added a search bar to newauthoronline.com
I have now added a search bar to newauthoronline.com which will, I hope make the task of searching for content on this site much easier for my readers.
My thanks to Hugh Roberts for prompting me to include this facility, https://hughsviewsandnews.com/2017/01/12/13-weeks-13-quick-blogging-tips-week-1-the-search-bar/.
Kevin
K Morris - Poet 