Best Blether Poems
Uncertainty lies
With us being together
Yet claiming promises
Of always and forever
Old fashion belief
In a love without measure
Steady we shall stay
For always and forever
Numb without one
Starved without the other
So crucial is the keepsake
Of always and forever
Words will continue
In a ritual blether
Sharing future vows
Of always and forever
But the stars predict
Our relationship be severed
Still we cling to the hope
Of always and forever
Will we follow the sensible
Give into the worlds pressure
And forsake the idea
Of always and forever
Or instead grasp tight
Run away to wherever
Just he and I
For always and forever
Only time will tell
Racing the oval of tide
Watching the sun and moon collide
Riding on horses in the oval of fate
Saddling on courses in the ring of slate
Horses in breeds of colors and shade
Forces in creeds of odors and glade
Mares and lasses of cold and wintry grounds
Grasses and races on parch, dusty mounds
Sun speaks of myths and bounds of horses' blether
Moon tweaks on blithes and squally weather
Sun and moon are light and dark horses
Scuttling, bustling in many races
Sprinting is a long distance course
Glinting and weltering without remorse
Humans breathe as horses, treading and running with reins
Born to win in the oval... praying, striving with strong veins!
Into the blue I travelled, destination better,
Journey unknown, but couldn’t be worse,
Than before, enthralled by this blether,
The space that makes mice loudly curse.
Interactive area, views, comments made,
Open contests to flick, fade or embrace,
Blogs to exchange opinions on the laid,
And ideas coming from others’ kind ace.
Articles on poetry and literature so fair,
The freedom of expression stands tall,
Freedom of speech exist here to chair,
The tunnels, spirals, the opaque and all.
The journey is itself the pleasure, fab,
The writing of the poems brings cheer,
And there is never anyone to chide, tab,
Even when to the eye there is a big tear.
Getting to know other poets is the best,
Encouragement, insight and direction;
Knowing your loved by another chest,
Brings confidence, hope, compensation.
whatever
a welcome lessening of blether
in absentia
it's now outside the tent you are.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re young or old,
male or female, able-bodied or disabled,
we all stand with the same shooting [hold],
beginner or experienced [to get enabled].“
Jo’s an archer who began shooting 2014,
When in June she won mixed team gold,
At the Para World’s in Czech land, been,
And in August at the Euros, got twice gold.
The next year, 2015, in Holland in May,
She won gold again, also women’s bronze,
Women’s team bronze, made a WR, hay,
To make her mark on archery’s lawns.
She describes herself as happy, loyal,
And also dedicated, started in the pool
With her sports journey, where, royal,
She spotted archery to then firmly rule.
Then in the June of 2015 in Czech again,
She won gold in the Para Grand Prix,
The women’s silver and the team, women,
Open Compound, a silver to victory see.
At the World Para Championships, August,
In Germany she took the gold and silver,
For the mixed team and the women’s gust,
Setting four World Records, no blether.
April 2016 saw her win mixed team gold,
And also Ladies gold at the Euro Paras,
In France. Her favourite film, said, told,
Is Lorenzo’s Oil, and Coldplay is class.
Jamie plays the sport of boccia,
Where you throw your six balls,
Towards the jack with another,
And whoever is nearest, calls.
Jamie has Duchenne Muscular
Dystropy like his brother Scott,
Who’s older. They both blether,
So life’s easier in Jamie’s spot.
Scott made it to London’s lever,
To the 2012 Paralympic games,
When he threw the ball, leather:
Boccia gives your fitness aims.
There’s two methods of Boccia,
One by throwing all your balls,
One by a ramp, that’s the other,
When another places your balls.
Jamie’s assistant is mum, carer,
And all the family feel much joy,
At having this top time together,
‘Cos dad was a footballing boy.
About Rio 2016 he did deliver,
This claim about sports games:
“The thing I want to remember,
is that I don’t think that, [flames],
it’s good to go in and [consider,
that] you know what to expect.
But when you step out [further],
onto the court [you’ll connect],
nothing’s changed…[ever],
it’s the same game once
you’re [on court], out there.”
It’s a very mature responce.
He also says on Rio’s chair:
“The way we have played
recently we know [our flare,
and] we can achieve [glade]
what we want, [that’s our care],
that’s the most important thing.
I think that if you have [blare]
confidence [then you] can win."
The family come from Ayrshire,
From the village of Dundonald,
So Scotland has a bright flare,
In Rio’s boccia squad called.
Look down on me and you'll see
A simple blur in natures mist
Looking down on my life's surround
Like it's particles, I'll soon drift
So silently in natures dark
I'll never be that feather
For somewhere against my fall
The whistling of me shall blether
As I descend to I
To Earths terra firma I mean
I pray I get to look up
To where the Branches of Life I've been.
Metrics,
Real concs.
Problems,
Solve ‘ems.
Nature,
Culture.
See slave,
Behave.
Faction,
Action.
Mating,
Dating.
Suckle,
Chuckle.
Test tube,
Stat loop.
Scope read,
Nodes said.
Bi drive,
Lat hive.
Theory,
Clearly.
Method,
Deft thud.
Method,
Deft cod.
Select,
Chain checked.
Gather,
Blether.
Science,
Finance.
Science,
Distance.
Freedom,
Kingdom.
Freedom,
Random.
Doctor, what a delight you are here with your grace
Doctor, I've been so worried that you disappeared.
Doctor, I have this feeling somebody appeared
At the lacrimal gland, is climbling down my face.
Doctor, how are your children and how have you been?
Doctor, do you sleep well these days? What have you seen?
This armchair's - God's a witness - result of a craft,
Is exacly the same as in most Boeing aircrafts.
People are visiting you for their life's preview
As if you're Buddha. Is your paper in Hebrew?
Doctor, I'm begging talk to me for a minute.
Doctor, I'm asking just be with me when I'm mute.
***
What is bothering me? Here you go -
I wish that God I dearly care for
Would make me the same so that.. hmm. So
I woulnd't feel anything anymore.
A sharp elbow's - but why? -
Pointing at my soft chest,
Missing a beat at crest.
So I don't shout or cry
And I don't wither
And I don't blether
But to sadly groan
And fall in a moan.
Lie down so that your bare shoulder blades
Are stamped down hard to the lake's bottom
Tuck yourself in different clay shades
That is the moment you stop caring,
Hardening until you're forgotten.
***
Why don't you answer me? Your pair
Of eyes with your head are nodding.
Some tea for me? Anti-despair?
I'm applauding.
Let's go to my place, Doctor? Mate?
Maybe you'd kindly change my rate.
Perhaps you'll forbid me to rhyme
My emotions. Is that a crime?
Would you caress me? Or scold me?
Please adopt me altogether.
Doctor, what do you think? Rather
Different? Tell me!
In a breakdown I shove your door,
All I hear - "Head down, on the floor!"
What are you scribbling? I can't see.
No. You can't be discharging me?
THE WAY
The way through the wilderness is clear,
Impossible dreams come true, my dears,
Tolerance to be taught to the human race,
We're all sparked with mankind's grace,
There is a way through the wilderness,
Impossible dreams to come true, no less,
All children do play together,
Until dissuaded by adults' blether,
The way through the wilderness is clear,
Impossible dreams can come true, my dears,
Kindness taught to the human race,
Universal smiles free on everyone's face,
The way through the wilderness is clear,
Impossible dreams can come true, my dears.
Graeme’s hero is Steven Gerrard,
That Liverpool and LA football player,
And has Cerebral Palsy. It was hard,
‘Cos doctors said he’d never blether.
He was prematurely delivered 1979,
But can now lift 3x his body weight.
For his 8th birthday his parents fine,
Bought him a horse, sports to date.
He studied at Beaumont College,
In Lancaster, where he got involved,
In CP sports competitions to wage,
His abilities and strength devolved.
Joining Chorley town Athletic Club,
He became determined to make it,
And in May 2012 Graeme did tub,
Taking silver, to sprint the Worlds fit.
Then in the London Games, Paras,
He won another silver to objectify,
His raw talent in the T36 100 metres,
In which he does his dreams solidify.
I
I’m leaving today on a promise back to you,
leaving my lonesome blues forever,
and nigh O God is the power and the glory
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
II
Waiting for me breathes my own true love,
someone to see through my blether.
I will follow in your footsteps to your door
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
III
I walk its paths of silent sorrow in a dream
or real, alas I know not whether.
The shuffle in my step is a long time coming
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
IV
With lonely weary heart I’ve mused on she
and the mythology of us together.
If only to find I would walk the farthest mile
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
V
I’m off, my love, where the four winds blow
to journey among birds of a feather,
and girl, wherever I go I know I’ll get there
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VI
How sweet it is, her shining red lips on mine
whose heart with mine does tether.
Come to me, my lovely, before it’s too late
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VII
When my epitaph fades in the darkest night
and words unsaid are buried nether,
pray call out my name and promise bury me
in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather
VIII
So, girl, feel my breath upon your cheek
in gentle winds and stormy weather.
Yes, there is something to remember me by -
my Spanish boots of Spanish leather!
Written: April 1997
“Gaun an bile yer heid” he bawled oot,
As he stood in the middle o the cobbled street.
Tae nae yin in particular.
Did he vent his anger.
Fu as a whaulk he staggered and swayed
Wan pin rooted tae the graun,
Ither yin moved like a dervish,
Gaun naewhaur fast.
He should of been hame
Wi his wifie and weans
But naw he insisted
Wi a wee refreshment wi his pals.
Jist a hauf an a hauf an a wee blether
Pittin the world tae rights.
But man the craik was brill that nicht
Whit a pity it ended in a fecht.
Nothing though like the fecht
He wid huv when at home.
His wifie stood livid at the door
Tears a dripping ontae the floor
Weans moaning and bawling
Nae dinner again old mans supping fu.
Setterday nicht in Glasga toon
Lying sprawled an fu unner the moon,
©Andrew P McIntyre 2015-05-28.
Set ‘midst windswept dunes and wild wild weather,
the winter storms have left it desolate.
An empty shell, no glowing hearth, no blether.
A but and ben abandoned to its fate.
And yet, awaiting warmer days in stoic slumber,
these walls will know the early murmurings of summer
and brighter sounds of fellowship and mirth,
a home exulting in its own rebirth,
until at length, as daylight fades, now dark and bleak,
a silent house returns again to wintry sleep.
The government is not debating,
Internally or understating,
Attacking, flipping the opposition,
Or denouncing the wealth creating.
All parties work together,
To social fairness we toast,
Maintaining the societal blether,
Announcing the financial host.
Few MPs sit in Parliament,
The chamber is internal,
The order is not permanent,
Here, the rules fraternal.
We will all look back,
Upon this treacherous time,
Commend ourselves for yack,
For prohibiting the crime.
Reverse! To the Coronavirus,
Stop somewhere else, not here,
Glide into outer space,
To prohibit any reason for tear.