Hello dear readers and followers, I am now writing for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem “A Clear Blue Jar”, is in this week’s edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … To Read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine. >> A Clear Blue Jar – Coffee House Writers
“This Fence” is a poem I posted on my Site when I first began blogging in June/July 2017, however I originally wrote the piece back in 2001, when I was recovering from my first stroke in Sept’ 2000 … My words from 22 years ago seem be applicable today, as I start my recovery program from this week’s diabetes diagnosis…
On Monday morning (Sunday afternoon PDT), I attended a Writing Circle Poetry Group via Zoom with our host/convener, the gracious Ali Grimshaw >> https://flashlightbatteries.blog/online-writing-circles/ and after listening to her recite a selected piece of poetry we are then encouraged to write our own poetic response in “5 mins” … mine was a rough draft and I actually recite my poem the opposite way round to my finished one below …
Over at Weekly Prompts the Wednesday Challenge word is: Time . To visit their fabulous site, please click on >> Here … my poem “Anti-Rust” spans twenty-three years of “Time”…
Anti-Rust
Twenty-three years have gone
Since I suffered my first stroke
I remember being cold and scared
I awoke the next day in hospital
Feeling like my limbs were full of rust
And my confused mind
Was locked inside a sleepwalking man
Disorientated and not to be trusted
Twenty-three years on
And two more strokes later
My body is still full of rust
But with the wonders of modern medicine
And some plucky self determination
I have recovered my cognitive abilities
And with the aid of anti-rust drugs
I am active enough to type up my canny poems
The Rust, Sivert Hoyem . Lyrics
Twenty hours he is gone Another time she’s waiting for him When he comes home He’s in terrible state He’s just sitting there by the window With his hate
A rusty bathtub in the garden Seven cars are in the yard And only one that is running Life is spout??? in the wilderness But in his heart
It’s not a place for new beginnings Everything you make make just falls apart
Sometimes she thinks It’s the rust that eats the soul In the winter time the sky is burning Purple orange and gold
So one night like any other She takes her bags out to the car She passes a minute Then she starts down the road You can get anywhere On the full tank of fuel And on an empty heart
It’s not a place for new beginnings Everything you make just falls apart The house neglected and forbidden ??? ???
Just thinking about it breaks your heart ???? from the ceiling ??? burning stars So decay and the rust that eats the soul The winter sky burns eternally But people come and people go
Featured Image Above: I received the photo from my niece, Jasmine, who lives interstate in Sydney. The photo is of an old painting of my wife’s (Carole) that I have not seen for 25 years … and a hearty thank you to dear Jazzy for locating and reframing Carole’s wonderful painting.
Today I am presenting another poem that will be appearing in my new book “Until Eyes Hear Sound”. I wrote ‘No Place Like Home’ in August 2020, and the poem will be the opening piece in Chapter 7. Memories and Rhymes