Its tough being a poet. As if we didn’t know it. A poet needs to be ambitious. Not easy on a Live Mic Night. Being in the blinding spotlight. The deception of appearing calmer. Than one really is. So may need a skin like armour. In case of the odd boo or hiss ! Not…
Author: Chris Goode
Tyrannosaurus Wrecks, by Chris Goode
Contrary to report, I’m quite a sensitive guy, And yet I terrify folks without having to try – It drives away all future gladness And along with itching drives me into madness: Killing savagely isn’t my real vocation But Jurassic times lack proper medication – It’s a bum rap living before diazepam And the soporific…
Incorrigible, by Mike McBride
She was incorrigible, beyond all redemption The worst nightmare of a student flat-share Always missing her turn to cook or clear the table Never offering to clean-up or make tea when she was able Too quick to take offence to pertinent advice well meant Always complaining that life was boring Her never-ending, tedious lament Not…
Flowers of the Forest, by Mike McBride
A lament Off to Scotland again, for the hills And the weather; leaving Edinburgh To its festival, escaping the arms of Glasgow: with its cultural cargo: The bird that never flew: I flew, but left A large piece of my heart there, for ever! We’re headed northeast, avoiding Glencoe. We want to let go, have…
After Midnight, by Mike McBride
A song CHORUS After midnight, The stars seem much brighter The streets are all quiet, There are no more queues After midnight, My Helga holds me tighter My big buxom baby, My beautiful muse There’s a song by Abba In the light of the moon Not ‘Abracadabra’ I remember the tune Gi’me, Gi’me, Gi’me A…
After Midnight, by Jayne Marshall
After midnight diamonds dance upon the sea Moonbeams show traces of humanity’s Thoughtless ways with detritus left to rot Under the stars a solitary fox can be heard And from the street the odd swearword. And creeping slowly an eerie silence descends The darkness seems threatening – to the unwary, beckoning towards an unlit path…
Rainy School Day – A sonnet, by Mike McBride
Teacher-sized umbrella-beetles watched us Scurry up the neat path, their monstrous Fact-boulders of tomb-stone rain: howling, Thundering, giving us their pain; scowling, Tortured souls, forced to dance like Saint Vitus’; Leaving us to wade through their detritus. The incessant tolling of the bell, The rank, farmyard smell of steaming wool Of cow and bull, soggy…
The Problem with Elegance, by Mike McBride
THE JUDGMENT OF PARIS As ordered by Zeus, in the ancient myth He was courted by three Greek goddesses For his adoration, each competing. Hera, the most powerful, offered To make him ruler of Europe and Asia. Athena was by far the cleverest Offering wisdom, and skill in battle. Aphrodite, goddess of love, offered Helen,…
You’re the Elegance, by Chris Goode
There may be herds of elephants, And exposure to the elements, But you’re always the elegance In my room; We may be fat or scrawny, Irascible or horny, But you’re always the elegance In my room; When politicos are prating, And their utterances are grating, You’re ever the elegance In my room; Life may be…
Gulls just wanna have fun, by Chris Goode
Flying ants are swarming As the weather starts warming And seagulls are manoeuvring Swooping and hoovering Them up one by one – They’re having a lot of fun: But ants’ formic acid Makes seagulls less placid Acting, it’s plain to see, A bit like LSD: On an antsy high They forget how to fly; Seeing…
Cats, by Mike McBride
CATS Sometimes seen together As a clotted mess: A soft intertwining, A clowder of caress. On back streets or alleys In feral wantonness Or glaring at intruders From a garden fence. More often we revere them Individually As characters Of unique personality: Obdurate But also charming therapy; Loving But dark in shrouded mystery. One day…
The Night Before Battle, by Mike McBride
From rising ground behind their entrenched positions, We smelt aromatic lamb in their lavish kitchens. A saffron moon on this cold, clear, star-filled night Bathed the enemy camp in a sumptuous light. Purposefully resting our buried bones, Ominously primed with silent drones, Like darkness, our patrols so carefully coached, Lay dormant as their sloppy sentries…
Tomorrow’s World, by Mike McBride
Carbon capture cars, Tourists in outer space, Alcohol free bars, Stem cell enhancement of your face, Global warming out of control, Fascists remove our freedom of speech. The terror police on constant patrol, Children shot at the local beach, From abandonment of justice, And failure of democracy, To enfranchisement of the law, Compassionate meritocracy; Mass…
Our Countryside, by Mike McBride
While oak trees tilt to leeward, like giant yachts And waves of barley catch the rising breeze, Busy robins rustle in the undergrowth And feisty sparrows guard their territories. In quiet, shadowed vales, on miles of dusty hillside, Consider a tinkling brook beneath overhanging trees Where Coleridge would let his wild imagination ride; Where Dot…
Euphoria, by Roger Read
You are the enemy at the gate Of my post traumatic date. You offered me kindness Support and love. It gave my dormant life and poetry. Inspiration . Your approach was not uniform. In fact . Contrary and prosaic. My finding love and euphoria. Made you lose your southern smile. And charm. To reveal your…