Writing the words
I welcome the day
Writing the words
with new things to say
Writing the words
my heart like a sponge
Writing the words
all silence expunged
Every new sound
alive in the air
Every new phrase
unspoken to share
Every last vowel
irreverent of time
Every last breath
gives voice to the mime
Pen in my hand
the journey begins
Pen in my hand
through virtue and sin
Pen in my hand
the Muses surround
Pen in my hand
their voices expound
Dreams of my father
dreams of my son
Dreams hold me captive
dreams rebegun
Dreams in the mirror
dreams that relay
Dreams bringing freedom
dreams — dare I pray
***
Narrative Musings
Poetry
can’t scare me
But then
there’s the prose
Freewheeling
unstructured
I’m lost
in its throes
The words
in my capture
As verse
I sustain
But narrative
musings
I fight
— to proclaim
***
In The Instant
Always the next
poem
always the next
verse
That already
written
retreats
to disperse
What comes
as a presence
stays fresh
to surmise
And freed
in this instant
each word
— more alive
(The New Room: May, 2026)
It’s 6.43am,
I’m awaiting my train.
I tune into the station,
Listening to the invisible spring birds
Belting a Beltane call and response;
A syncopation in freewheeling jazz tracks.
Dipperty-dee, dipperty-dar,
Dipperty-dee, dipperty-dar,
I alight the shining lines,
Slide into my seat.
Watch the sun seep up and over rooves,
The rumble and tumble of the dustbin lorry,
Barking dogs,
People in a hurry,
Mobile but fixated by scrolling truths -
Reels of what's new, what's circumstantial,
And rolling news of worlds financial.
Woo-ah woo!
I'm borrowed fleeting glances
Of dolls house windows of toy town houses,
The click and flick of kettles
As the busyness of the new day blinks in.
Full steam ahead!
Clickerty-click, clickety-clack,
Clickety-click, clickety-clack.
Then a pause.
A beeperty-beep, and a whoosh of the doors
As they slide open.
An improvisation of passengers board,
Spilling into the carriages with costa-lot coffees,
Half full.
Commuting, suited and booted into the city.
Electricity!
With a murmuration, they're away from the station.
Dipperty-dee, dipperty-dar,
Dipperty-dee, dipperty-dar,
A bicycle is freedom
It's not just wheels and gears
It's more than bottom brackets
It's more than front and rear
It's freewheeling down steep hills
No pedals, feet up high
It's becoming young all over again
With hedges zooming by
It's finding winding tracks and lanes
It's getting muddy, wet
It's getting caught out in the rain
A love you dont forget
misjudging potholes in the road
And landing on the side
It's grazing knees and bruises
An exhilarating ride
It's falling in the Bracken
It's walking flat tyres home
It's fresh air and a peace
It's together or alone
Im back to being 12 yrs old
Exploring places yet unseen
It's going out for hours
To where I have not been
So look beyond the handlebars
The sprockets and the chains
This is perfect freedom
Will make you smile again
So free the bike now from the shed
Clean rust from off the frame
Set it free from cobwebs
You'll never be the same
Streaming like the rain outside
The windscreen wipers working like
My heart and chopping onions stuff
A testament to will the good of another
The kids are in the back and can't see what's going on
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling in the driving seat
I think of my wife and when we first met
She was always running late
As I was shoegazing on the corner
I needed a parrot sidekick
High on Belgian waffles and coffee
A hip new sensibility
The dash cam records the journey
Join me on my magic carpet
Grant me three wishes
Give me some tassel
In the Maghreb
I'll be your magic lamp
In order to reveal myself
Let's pick out curtains
My daddy—he once told me
don’t ever play with nuns
they’ll hit you with their rulers
it won’t be any fun
I snuck out of that prison
and now I’m on the run
Once freed from that schoolhouse
I sunbathed in the sun
I stayed out late, I went on dates
looking out for number-one
When I think of what I went through
of all the tired repressive lies
I keep running wise, in slick disguise
my purpose is renewed
Don’t ever let ‘em tell you
you can’t have any fun
If they preach that hackneyed drivel
grab some things and run
.
.
Songs for this:
Cold Heart (PNAU Remix) by Elton John & Dua Lipa
I'm Still Standing by Elton John
Webster: hackneyed = uninteresting, unfun, dull and unoriginal.
*stolen almost directly, in spirit anyway, from that freewheeling rebel, Johnny Cash
**My first 8 years of school were parochial
Loneliness is confinement rather that fear,
a need to suppress reality;
how dreadful is to live daily
in a closed box without sunshine and air!
Was there a constant voice whispering,
" Go after your wishes, it's freewheeling! "
Roger is an example of sheer irony,
his proposal was rejected by Milly;
nothing he saw was reasonably good,
his days were unappreciative and sad.
Even brilliant minds quickly surrender
to strain: they should know better!
Is there enough confidence
to go after your wishes on quick sand?
No shortcuts are recommended:
you will end up empty-ended;
daring is bold, it needs no courage
to break down that constant rage!
My suggestion to you, buddy is to break free:
get rid of false hypothesis;
dreamer, go after your wishes:
heed these words, don't get stunk by a bee!
Dreamer, go after your wishes:
express thoughts of positivity;
never indulge in self-pity,
spare yourself tons of tears!
I miss you Michael a really great friend
When I dropped by your flat you got me high
Gave me game DVD’s to the end
Brain cancer killed you, so sorry good bye
You were on a morphine drip to kill pain
Shocking to see the way you were in bed
My visit to you was not done in vain
Drained of life,I was shocked, you did look dead
Alan you were a great friend to the end
You were great at doing air brush art too
You are Freewheeling Franklin -I commend
He died falling down a stairwell it’s true
Whilst shrouded in dark dungeons of deep despair,
in monk mode, soul choosing therein to be still,
plunges deeper into the void, as a dare,
feeling, not thinking, surrendering its will,
astonished to see light flicker through the air,
even as bliss magnetism begins to trill.
As wafting scents sublime suffuse feeble form,
pristine presence is swept away in love’s storm.
Slow seduction, concealing and revealing,
joy of union and pang of separation,
a joy ride through time, delight so appealing,
game divine of polarity rotation,
reviving resplendent rapture freewheeling,
is what but God with us in conversation?
Breathe in, oh hermit, each life breath in surprise,
in childlike wonderment, beholding bliss rise.
a discourse
ornamted speech
eloquent oratory aloud
seminal ideas
in pillars of poetics
a dialogue delivered
feelings aroused
from slumber
by symmetries of sequences
soliloquised
persuasion intertwined in poesy
perceptions personified
arrayed&adorned
in audible orations
of
experimental sound&
sense
freewheeling
sensable
becoming sententious
loose language codified
yet
open ended
figures of speech
of arrested moments
denotative&
syntactical of
preliterate tradition
solo
but
not self conscious
or
self orientated
words freed
to float & hover&
find a home
a random place to rest
a refuge for letter
sound-images
to
stimulate a reply
I feel the need for speed;
scant traffic, no cops.
Floor now my ready heavy foot.
I’m a teenager again,
whooping and hollering,
no warning lights in my freewheeling way.
Then,
fear rides inside my heart,
its white knuckles upon my mind.
Panting as if I had been running,
I peer at a now danger filled highway,
driving much too slow.
MULTIPLICITY
a
combined
innocence
something
beautiful
oft traumatic
yet
figurative
to
represent
a
freewheeling
spirit
charmingly
gentle
yet
with
an unworldly
quality
collides
to portend
in
the blatant
isolation
a thesis
drifting
a happening
reaping
benefits
a
setting
continued
throughout
then
evaporated
"Under the amber sun's warmth seagulls squawk embraced in the freewheeling
briny breeze and hum of the ocean's bosom." Quote by poet
Sun ember warm light dances
a brilliantly choreographed waltz
rhythm upon the sapphire surface
an erratic glitter to a world beneath
a vessel of such mysteries that rises.
Ocean churn by the wind and waves
open in its abyss always in motion
diving into the cool dispassionate within
brackish water and its marine life.
3/25/2023
Writing Challenge - 'O' Words Poetry 2. Ocean
Contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
POETICS in PROGRESS
a discourse we don
ornamted speech
eloquent oratory aloud
seminal ideas
in pillars of poetics
a dialogue delivered
feelings aroused
from slumber
by symmetries of sequences
soliloquised
persuasion intertwined in poesy
perceptions personified
arrayed&adorned
in audible orations
of
experimental sound&
sense
freewheeling
sensable
becoming sententious
loose language codified
yet
open ended
figures of speech
of arrested moments
denotative&
syntactical of
preliterate tradition
solo
but
not self conscious
or
self orientated
words freed
to float & hover&
find a home
a random place to rest
a refuge for letter
sound-images
to
stimulate a reply
Nighttime, early morning on the freeway,
I feel the need for speed,
check the mirrors little traffic, no cops
not even truckers.
Floor it to 120. It's only a Chevy Malibu.
For a moment I’m a teenager again,
whooping and hollering,
no fear of death,
no warning lights in my freewheeling mind.
Then, not too soon, the brick wall of my reality
slams into a free-fall joy. Fool!
Back to my old sensory overloaded state,
ease the heavy foot,
panting like I just ran a mile,
Scanning the road - now driving much too slow.
That amber liquid far from insipid
Like molten honey but drawn from a tap,
Bitter or dark, the choices quite stark,
God's malted ale, nature's true sap.
Vikings grew strong, strengthened their bond,
Giving them courage for mayhem galore,
A beer in their hand, they pillaged the land
Never quite feeling tired or sore.
The Celts used for curing, Egyptians for luring
Their gods from the heavens bribed to partake,
The English just drank as their water so stank,
Beer their solution to gulp for life's sake.
Wine lovers admit that their glass needs
be sipped
While describing aromas of berries and earth,
No such constraint, nor need for restraint
For drinkers of ale are freewheeling from birth.
So let raise a jug or a frothy filled mug
While watching a game and eating junk food,
Nothing is wetter, more luscious and better
Than a cold tasty beer when expertly brewed.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.