Best Glastonbury Poems
haiku – senryu
JUST THINKING
********************
life... rife...
some strife...
it's reality
not all life is fun
get with reality
heed natures warnings
love thy neighbor
turn the other cheek
let peace prevail
no news today
for my peace of mind
how do others cope
rhetoric... why...
when quietness would suffice
have we forgot peace...
spring grass growing
near ready for cropping
ewes with early lambs
gamboling... a leap
the meadows hosting livestock
grasshoppers singing
the farmyard... alive
swallows... in and out of barns
their owls wait till dusk
dusk... bats out hunting
hedgehogs... door mice... meadow life...
dawn.. farmer makes hay
summer... watching... waits
springtime... explodes... fruition
Glastonbury raves
there is life on mars
why... did you drop it...
bacteria play too
birds can fly the sky
viruses can fly as well
no... not flew... flu
Jack and Jack
not as nature intended
but they are happy
my thoughts on paper
all spontaneous writing
think before you speak
********************
That day we followed the ancient byway
that wound round the old farm house,
past the new and on sun drenched
towards the river Brue.
You and I wandered slow,
whilst summer's promise
swooped down low
over green level pastures
in which new lambs bleated.
Passing incidental hedgerow trees
full of bird song, growing free
along the drove,
we lingered at the grassy edge
where orange tipped
peacock eyed butterflies danced.
Occasionally we glanced
towards the sacred tor to mark our way.
Meandering talk and country lanes
led to Arthur’s court yard,
in the Vale of Avalon.
Where, to the sound of the Buddhist's Om
I walked the healing pool,
held by a gentle hand.
You waited beneath a budding tree
opposite the lion’s mouth
kept company by a brambling.
I had one too in branches high above,
whilst my bare feet
were rubbed, with love and
unscented oil.
I returned to sit beside you
and with easy talk you told
me of your brambling.
That was the day of the apple blossom drop.
As we sat together side by side
on that bench in the garden of the chalice well
with warming eyes you turned to me
as clouds of apple blossom fell
smiled, and said “I organised that just for you”.
Reminiscing and full of nostalgia
looking back over the years
A life full of joy and laughter
though some occasional tears
But no real regrets
Oh, maybe just one
For at this time of year
to my mind it doth come
So why before I die
have I never been to Glastonbury
watching from my old armchair
wishing it was me
wishing I was there
For despite
the rain
the mud
the loos
euphoria is all I see
with babes in arms
and sixties hippies
this place I really I want to be
sitting here full of joie de vivre
To see those happy hippy souls
festooned
bejewelled
leaves me beguiled
their visage truly says it all
they dance and sway the night away
a fantasy world of music and colour
this place is truly like no other
It’s never too late for me
to visit Glastonbury ~ my guilty pleasure
donning my happy hippy attire
strategically placing my stick- on tattoos
I turn up the volume ~ I'm ready to go
So singing and dancing the whole night through
at dawn ~ as I wipe the sleep from my eyes
I’m enjoying the luxury of my very own loo…
Written on 28th June 2019 – the first day of Glastonbury Festival
3rd PLACE
Contest: YOUR CHOICE SEASONS-FESTIVALS VERSE ,any form,any theme
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Dancing and singing along with the rest
With the sun beaming down
It’s Glasto at its very best
****
The teatime slot my favourite spot
Iconic performances from idols past
Still going strong as they sing all night long
Never dreaming their fame it would last
****
Sir Tom at 80 still wowing the crowds
his voice so strong
may he go on and on
****
Resplendent in pink
Dame Shirl gives a twirl
that young lass from Wales
with her voice she regales
****
Dear Dolly lifts the crowd
still begging Jolene
****
Whilst Kenny is lamenting Lucille
****
And sweet Caroline
Well she's a favourite of mine
Still shines like a Diamond
Sweet Neil
****
Barry alone now
still reaching those highs
seeing their smiles as he looks to the skies
****
And Lionel still able to go
All Night Long
strutting the stage
like a man half his age
****
Sweet Kylie
petite
A perfect package
complete
****
Nile Rodgers and Chic
sing along to Le Freak
Nile is such a cool bloke
his look so unique
****
Then finally the master
As darkness descends
On that stage he appears
and for many brings tears
For just like Major Tom
his soul has moved on
but his genius survives
in every word
of every song
****
Not even Covid 19
Could ever stop this show
As I behold the very best
of 2020 Glastonbury Fest...
Written at 3.00 am this morning on 30th June 2020
after watching and dancing and singing to Glastonbury 2020 those images still rocking in my head…
*Glastonbury is considered to be one of the biggest and finest music festivals in the world today. 2020 would have been 50 years since its humble beginnings in 1970. The brainchild of Michael Eavis a farmer from Somerset England, who decided to host an al fresco concert himself after see Led Zeppelin at an open air festival. First artists to appear were Marc Bolan and Al Stewart
1970 ~ Attendance 1,500 ~ tickets price £1 with free milk from the Farm
2019 ~ ticket price £248 ~ capacity 203,000 ~ 135.000 tickets sold in under 36 minutes…
Contest STRAND completely new 3
Sponsor Brian Strand
HONORABLE MENTION
Bride's Mound is a site sacred to the Druids in Glastonbury.
This beautiful Druid funeral was a wonderful way to say farewell to a lovely soul.
Up on Bride’s Mound, where the sky meets the ground
Circle wheels within wheels, on a blue winter day
Child of the trees, of the stars and the breeze
How much we love her and want her to stay
Waft of incense on air, words of ritual prayer
Gentleness, blessing, children at play
They who confessed her, who laid out and dressed her
Scattering acorns, wormwood, and bay
No dark corner spared in the memories shared
Of the pain that she had before finding her way
Rivers of sound, through the harp, through the ground
Diluting the darkness, dissolving dismay
Herein is forgiving; the dead and the living
Made fresh by the scent of a rosemary spray
And redemption and peace, in her final release
Leave us free to remember and love as we may
We are all of us here, she has nothing to fear
Her spirit has gone from the bier where she lay
As together we stand, on this green hallowed land
Holding dear Kathy Hope as we love her away
by Gail
The summer brings out a multitude of things
from blossoming trees to colourful flowers
onto music festivals,glastonbury showers
standing soaking dancing, but that all brings
A sense of bonding as we all in the same boat
some barely naked not possessing a coat
from Leeds to Bristol,London and France
hundreds of tents all ages will dance.
Not minding if it`s a field of soggy mudd
their taste in music blasting, that surely would
turn off the thoughts that may carry
uncomfortable attire, and happy as Larry.
As the wild wind and roaring waves batter the West Country,
does the Glastonbury Thorn flower today to be blown at bay?
Tis it true as Christ came to Priddy, on the Mendip hills overlooking
the fantastically fertile grazing, now flooded land of the Somerset Levels
that now drown our complacencies whether global warning is all to blame for our shame?
Old Christmas Day 6th January 2014
I watch you slowly sink
taking longer than expected.
I imagined Ophelia
flowers drifting over you
floating in the dark water.
Reality is more sordid
and yet still sensual;
your breasts now visible
outlined by the wet fabric
of the dress.
That dress.
The Glastonbury dress;
the dress you wore for him.
Your vacant eyes stare accusingly
as if you didn't have it coming:
Whore.
Wales is Grape
[Enter the 'Wales' Poetry Contest]
[Done to the Methodist Hymn, "How Great Thou Art"]
Wales to me is ...
Oh he was born, in Glastonbury, England
fermentation of grape juice he hath made
no alcohol shall be used for communion.
Thomas Welch, Methodist minister forbade
Then sings my soul, for peanuts and jelly
How great thou art, how great thou art
Then sings my soul, despite his dentistry
England is not Wales but not apart.
by,
Martin Braun
5/26/2020
monkeys swing through trees ?
deforestation... murder
local extinctions
heron feeding young
no doubt grateful for my pond ?
me... devastated
hedge clipping
all neat and tidy ?
bird in face
sunlight reflecting
off oceans lakes... calm rivers
U V... cream up
the world is a globe
season's... rest... breed... grow... set seed ?
going going gone
hearts beat rate governed
natural induced control ?
Glastonbury fun
“You may be declared the winner, Papa
—but you never beat the game”
(Grandson: Glastonbury Connecticut: November, 2021)
A simple recipe of water, silt, soil and clay
Nature's potion; so powerful, so useful, so dangerous
Uncontrollable and untethered is this egalitarian mixture
Loved and loathed by human and animal
Low tide, the muddy shores of the Victorian Thames beckoned
The ragged-clothed mudlark scavenged for anything he could sell
Scrap iron, animal fat, coal, pieces of rope and canvas - the daily fayre
Few pennies for bread and beer, so cruel for the young, orphaned, homeless child
They came to Woodstock and Glastonbury with a light heart
Tens of thousands flocked to share music and the experience
Rain-turned fields of mud bound them together
They freely left muddied, smiling and uplifted
Yet, in another time the mudscape of the battlefield was the real enemy
The toxic mix of natural mud contaminated with human bi-products
Was the welcome each new trench soldier received
It oozed into the very soul of every pawn on both sides
In another place, Musgum people are at one with the earth
The simple beauty of their mud huts lingers on
Tall conical form cools the summer heat
Outside, geometrical patterns channel the monsoon rains
Elsewhere, acrid black smoke hangs over the valley like a spectre
Families live and work in squalor, slaves in all but name
A child finishes a mud brick her father moulded and her mother will bake
India’s economic miracle built in the mud hell of the poor
Strong, viscous, colourfully rich
Powerful images of mud stencils of the street
Dramatic forms of the land artist’s river mud
Subtle negative spaces in mud cloth designs
Yet in one moment, nature's art supersedes
The deadly ride of everything in the mudflow’s path
The open wound of a hillside landslide
The jigsaw pattern in sun-baked mud of a riverbed
The figurative use of mud exudes negative undertones
Worthless and polluting, it described sixteenth century people and things
Mixed with a sense of extreme, an insult it soon became
Dragged through the mud by mudslinging of others, your name becomes mud
Mud, O glorious mud
You take no sides, you give no quarter
Fluid in your journey, solid in your destiny
Eternal existence assured