poetryblog

Hope Can Be Heavy

Brothers and sister,
strangers and friends, 
like a sad smile on lips 
				- 	hope can be heavy.  


Let us sit and talk,
of better times gone by,
of better times to come.


If you are weary -
lay your head on my broad shoulders,
and let the hope that built them,
cushion your hearts and minds.


When darkness descends,
I’ll light a candle,
to burn it away -
even the slightest flicker of flame,
can illuminate the way ahead.


Before you leave,
please share this embrace,
feel strength through unity,
and let that carry you onwards.


Return any time you wish,
you will always have a place here,
in my heart and in my soul,
I know that hope can be heavy 
							- but you don’t carry it alone.

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Thanks for taking the time to read my poem today. I hope wherever you are, you are safe. Let our unity endure.

Thanks

Paul

Secret Admirers

There’s a touch of romance 
in the garden 
the fence posts led 		 by coy breezes 
in a gentle dance 		
between 			         secret admirers
until the mood turns 
and the wind becomes 	 belligerent 
destroying something	         beautiful 
simply because 
                                 - it can.

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Thanks for taking the time to read my poem today, I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to check out my other pieces across the website. Any comments or critiques you have, I welcome.

Take it easy,

Paul

Calm

I welcome the storm 
         she’s                an old            friend
kissing 	     fire                      into my lungs 
until  I'm   breathless 
they          blame her                     for destruction 
but I simply offer thanks
for 	breaking 			down 			the clutter
                 in my mind
	giving me 
                          focus.

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. It has been a while since I’ve posted however I’m squirrelling away working on a couple of projects.

Let me know what you think in the comments.

Take it easy,

Paul

Daybreaking

A gang of indigo clouds  
        are swaggering
	       across the flamingo-pink skies this morning
distracting everyone’s gaze 
        it takes a while for the greyness of conformity to rush in 
	      and chase the hope of daybreak away
in the mire, we stand 
        sinking in acceptance of the now
	       wishing, we were those indigo clouds
moving on from normality.

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem.
As always, I welcome any feedback and comments that you may have.

Take It Easy

Paul

Morbid Voyeur

The sneering wind 
flays the sycamore tree of limp,	 weak-willed branches
and their 	lichen tapestries  -		pearl and straw-yellow
while I stand		 watching,
a voyeur 			of death and violence
the wind doesn't want me to watch
howls at 	me 	to 	turn away
                        howls of 	shame
                        howls of 			embarrassment 
                        howls of 						       guilt
It ramps things up 
tearing down 		an elderly fence
that's been 	grey 	and withered 		for a while
Shock tactics.
But it doesn't shock me.
                         I’m still standing. Still watching.

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. Did you like it? Feel free to leave a comment below or any constructive criticism.

Take It Easy

Paul.

A Lament

The   sky   shows   no   blue   today
	only        the 		dullness 
                 of     burnt     steel
                          brittle   cracks   form
       drizzle falls 
                    lying static       in        the      air
tears    to mourn  an unwell world
         even the gulls are silent in respect.

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Thanks for taking the time to read what is a sombre poem. 
I hope you're well and having a great January so far. It feels like it has lasted forever. 

Take it Easy,

Paul

The Commute

The platform is wet from last nights rain
          but this morning
the sun has wove threads of gold
sewing itself to the soft cloud
a handful of people smile at tiny escaping strands of light
         the look of hope on their faces
scores of others turn away looking down
              cheekbones rigid with anguish
a reminder of the darkness in their life
and I’m people watching
wondering what type of person
          will sit next to me on today’s journey.

Thanks for taking the time to read this poem. It’s my first piece of 2022, I’ve been mega busy.

Take It Easy

Paul

Appearing On… Eat The Storms – Christmas Episode

The Christmas episode of the Eat The Storms Poetry Podcast has been released. On it, you’ll hear me (!!!) reading four of my poems with a wintry and festive feel. I am so grateful that Damien (the host with the most!) invited me back to read. I love Christmas and the last time I appeared on the podcast was my podcasting debut, my reading live debut and was so much fun.

Some of the poems I’ve read you’ll find on Paul Writes Poems already; the others will be released between now and Christmas along with my daily Haiku Advent Calendar so keep your eyes peeled.

The last time I had the opportunity to appear on Eat The Storms, the other readers were amazing. The same is said for my fellow poets appearing on the Christmas episode, but, this time Damien has ramped things up for the festivities so it’s bursting at the seams like a vintage stocking.

I have released a poem this month already, you can find the piece of nostalgia by clicking, ‘At Christmas‘.

It was a massive honour and privilege to take part, especially with the calibre of the other poets reading. I may have been was awestruck! (I must apologise for the sore throat though.)

Merry Christmas Everybody

Ho Ho Ho

Paul

Bobby’s Wake

The pitmen gather around the empty hearse,
standing like Davids around Goliath,
some with roll-up cigs burning,
a glowing tobacco-fuelled pyre for,
another brother lost to history.

The colliery band are gearing up,
it’s good to see them still looking strong,
a shame some of the brass looks dull,
but the sapphire and gold thread of the banner,
is still resplendent in the tender summer drizzle.

Bobby’s family give their thanks to the vicar,
with a handshake and bottle of whisky;
his widow unsteady from grief
– and a brandy she’d drank for his honour and her nerves –
is weightless in the arms of her daughters,
the sorrow they’re carrying is a heavy enough burden.

Some of his friends from the village,
wander around the nearby graves,
hunching over the headstones and fading flowerheads,
making empty apologies they aren’t there more often.


Everyone congregates at the roadside when the band begins,
ready for the march to the pub;
tubas and trumpets blowing out the tune to
‘The Bonny Pit Laddie’
a reminder of the man,
just returned to the earth;
close to the coal he used to dig.


At the pub – we all raise a ‘Percy Special’ in toast,
and the tales and tankards come thick and fast;
like pick-axes on silver-black mine walls,
did only a couple of years ago;
the only hush comes from the opening of the buffet table.


These ageing men who’ve fought the police and government;
legends in their own lifetimes;
know that they’ll be together again soon enough,
wondering if they’ll be the missing face, lying in the dirt;
some have a fleeting sadness on their hard faces,
quickly burnt away by the furnace behind their eyes,
and then songs break out with soft smiles

– this is a celebration.

Thanks for taking the time to read this poem.

I really appreciate all your support.

Take It Easy

Paul

Sarcophagi

The low autumn sun
blinding-white but bereft of gold
because the beech and sycamore stole it
to paint their leaves
before purging the dying
windswept sarcophagi of the season
everyone and everything
wants to be a king for a day
and all kings know kingdoms fall
crumble to decay
and history remembers in bronze
the colour of rotting leaves
atoms return to atoms
return to life elsewhere.

Thanks for taking the time to read my poem about autumn.

I hope you enjoyed it, if so why not check some of my other work out.

Take It Easy

Paul

Photo from unsplash: Ilham Ramadhan