Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Oh, My Waning Moon”is in this week’s edition. … To read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine. >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/oh-my-waning-moon/
Hello, dear readers and followers. As you might know, I stopped producing my “Tullawalla Booklets” at # 31 because that was the house number of our family’s Tullawalla Homestead. But the booklet formats are a superb way for me to catalogue the vast number of poems I produce and as the saying goes “I Am Turning Another Page”. Here I have begun a new series of poem booklets, called “Shangri La” which is the name of my little Villa, and is my piece of “earthly paradise, a retreat from the pressures of modern civilization”. I now have “1950” Poems filed in these booklet formats!! (on my bookshelf I have “The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, which contains 1775 poems … when I first started writing poems, I never envisaged that I would produce so many poems)
Click on >> Here, for the link to your FREE: PDF Copy of“Shangri La, Volume 13, Below My Crown”
Deep into the Twilight Zone At that moment above the horizon When the sun is sliding down Underneath his eiderdown
Nature dons her noble crown And declares to everyone in town “There’s no need to be a sad clown or wear a worried frown. Take your time to have a look around, the world is not falling down”
Dear followers and friends of my poetry website; wishing you all, a happy and creative “WORLD POETRY DAY” … “Let the earth bear witness” – – William B Yeats (1916)
when I swim at the surf beach and dive deep down the eerie fullness of my silent surroundings enhances the volume of those submersed thoughts floating within my mind
Over at Weekly Prompts, the Wednesday Challenge is Ragged. Please visit their fabulous site by clicking on >> Here As you might gather from my poem, I am feeling very “ragged around the edges” … I have been hectically busy preparing for the ‘Clunes Booktown’ Festival this weekend …
Am I The Pilot?
What motivates me? To walk so many miles Despite the aches and pains
What compels me? To write every day Despite my crusty old brain
What drives me? Over life’s valleys and mountains Despite yesterday’s hard rain
Will I still be the pilot? Of tomorrow’s mystery flight Despite missing tonight’s plane
Hello, dear readers and followers. I write for Coffee House Writers magazine (USA) fortnightly, and my poem “Hungry Crows” (a Pantoum) is in this week’s edition. … To read my poem, please click on the link below to visit the article, at Coffee House Writers Magazine. >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/hungry-crows/
Hungry Crows (a Pontoum); is my metaphorical interpretation of the ‘infamous’ White House meeting between President Zelensky and President Trump
A Pantoum, Poetry Format
Stanza 1: 4 lines, ABAB rhyme scheme
Stanza 2: Line 5 (repeat of line 2 in stanza 1) Line 6 (new line) Line 7 (repeat of line 4 in stanza 1) Line 8 (new line)
Stanza 3: Last Stanza (This is the format for the last stanza regardless of how many preceding stanzas exist): Line 9 (line 2 of the previous stanza) Line 10 (line 3 of the first stanza) Line 11 (line 4 of the previous stanza) Line 12 (line 1 of the first stanza)
“My Back Pages” Lyrics by Bob Dylan
Crimson flames tied through my ears Rollin’ high and mighty traps Pounced with fire on flaming roads Using ideas as my maps “We’ll meet on edges, soon,” said I Proud ‘neath heated brow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth “Rip down all hate,” I screamed Lies that life is black and white Spoke from my skull, I dreamed Romantic facts of musketeers Foundationed deep, somehow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
Girls’ faces formed the forward path From phony jealousy To memorizing politics Of ancient history Flung down by corpse evangelists Unthought of, though, somehow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
A self-ordained professor’s tongue Too serious to fool Spouted out that liberty Is just equality in school “Equality,” I spoke their word As if a wedding vow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
In a soldier’s stance, I aimed my hand At the mongrel dogs who teach Fearing not I’d become my enemy In the instant that I preach My existence led by confusion boats Mutiny from stern to bow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats Too noble to neglect Deceived me into thinking I had something to protect Good and bad, I define these terms Quite clear, no doubt, somehow Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now.
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 