Sadly sadly farage it seems?has become self-important
Upon the world scene.' Denigrating a man who called for
His help..' in rallys in London..That were really well turned out.'
Is he taking for granted an empathy from Trump.? I've looked for other reasons.' Yet in truth I am stumped.' Small
Cracks can become fissiures.? And could pull down the
Elect I put nothing beyond the w e f, they have such a brass
Neck.' I suppose nothings new ever under the sun, just how true
To today, could that scripture run.?
Categories:
well turned, appreciation, celebrity, education, endurance,
Form: Rhyme
I love the reality the dark keeps,
without designer drugs or alcohol.
It is as deep as the void from which light has sprung.
To speak of mighty waves the sea released.
To follow boldly solstice no drawn drapes up from.
The triggers I can't fix to see my face.
Drawn and racked as peasants do it.
I face the west the ocean calls she sits upon it.
The drug is sleep I'm welcome to be found inside
American tragedies.
The farmer milks his cows and his wife and all ends well.
Each angle that is found in your well turned ankle.
The dress that hides the moon each shooting star.
When depression peaks,
because I love the way you always smile.
Categories:
well turned, 12th grade, caregiving, depression,
Form: Free verse
This poet simply can’t
Reach people
He ascends but
Doesn’t steeple
He thinks of his work as
An odyssey
A pearl
Without the modesty
If only he had a
Coherent theme
A well turned phrase
Or a poignant scene
But he just doesn’t have
What he ought’a
And drivels away
Like water.
May 2019
Categories:
well turned, poets,
Form: I do not know?
Brexit Sonnet No.4
‘Year of Trial and Error’
So now it’s waning, our year of trial and error,
Our brush with one inglorious year just gone.
We’ve had it all, deception, lies and terror,
With inappropriate MPs movéd on.
Votes just bought and sold like weed or pot,
So ‘tanks a billion’ say both sides of the border.
Papers lost then found, but paradise not,
Whilst pay cap kept our health and law in order.
But desist from maudlin thoughts and look ahead,
Hammer in those solid logic nails,
Torque those nuts of truth on well turned thread
And set the train of thought on well honed rails.
Our home once more again to prime and proof,
Next year, no rot, no rust, just honest truth.
©Keith Murphy
Categories:
well turned, political,
Form: Sonnet
chase the butterflies.
find all things you think are valued
from their anus, from their fore head
fortunate memorable, upside down, well turned.
smell the favoured flashes,
sentenced air wings fountains
sometimes behind, beside to the top of the mountains.
it is the well being, like the living cell
immediate and important breath; well, smell
intuintive thoughts to the medulla's call.
you wish the wish of the wings
you see in minds the tops of the skies
you remember the momentum cries.
chase the butterflies
chamber all the tears
calmly relax into your joys.
Categories:
well turned, butterfly,
Form: Free verse
When I was your lover I was a volcano
Throwing out light and life like lava
When you were my love you gave
Me that energy to burn
Sparkling fizzing and crackling alive.
When I was your lover I was a red pine tree
Standing at its height tall and lean
When you were my love you made
Me stand fully tall
Straight and proud relishing my height.
When I was your lover I was Saville Row
A sense of style and well turned out
When you were my love you relished
My look, my style
The cut of my job feeling razor sharp.
When I was your lover I was the dawn
Of your day, your rising sun
When you were my love the first
Thought of your day, I
Filled the space between sleeping and waking.
When I was your lover I was the dusk
Of your day, your setting sun
When you were my love, the last
Thought of your day, I
Filled the space between awake and sleep.
When I was your lover I was with you
At night in your sleeping thoughts
When you were my love you brought
Me into your dreams
Keeping me alive and loved as you slept.
Categories:
well turned, emotions, love,
Form: Narrative
I found some strange multi coloured beans
And planted them in well turned soil
With care I watered them and pulled weeds
yet after a month not one single shoot.
I had cause to go down in my cellar
looking for some tools and to my amazement
it was full of leaves and flowers
These strange plants grew under ground.
Down, still further down they went
so I climbed down and down
At last I reached the bottom
and all was upside down.
A vast land where all walked upside down
yes folks, they were walking on their heads
some birds too flying upside down
My head reeled and I climbed back up.
I decided not to venture there again
after all there is enough weirdness up here
to last me several life times
so no gold or giants just an upside down world
written 01/31/2015
shadow Hamilton
contest Magic Beans
Categories:
well turned, imagination,
Form: Verse
I dreamed some day I would be a man
Who was brave, and strong, and true.
I dreamed that in the years to come
I might find someone like you.
You're a shaft of light in my crimson evening.
Your long, silky, light brown hair it's virtually blonde
And waxen arms, the well turned neck
You are so deep, so strong in love made thunderstorms,
Your shoulders are strong enough
To carry the weight of the world,
Yet gentle enough to give comfort.
Lingering in the moment, lost in your eyes,
I cherish the sweet surprise, my bathing beauty.
My beach pearl, I'll dive for you,
My life spins in tune with yours
Twirling and dancing through open doors.
A quiet breeze so warm and slow,
Has drifted ‘cross my face.
Like whispers lost at sea, we soar
Beyond the sky of fire.
The water calls us, shimmering warm,
Let's slice the waves.
A future bright and filled with love,
I see that sparkle in your eyes,
Through the dimness of the candlelight,
You smile at me, then teasingly back your eyes.
A love so deep yet unseen.
______________________
Thank you for reading.
Chitta
Categories:
well turned, love, romance, lost, light,
Form: Free verse
If you are reading this you are most likely alive.
a poem reader…….
a contemporary……….
I prefer reading poems from hearts still beating
words with organic life
with love still alight or bitterly lost
from parents who still kiss fresh bruises
verses written by hands still warm.
I can inquire the meaning of cryptic symbols
praise well turned words
describe my appreciation of a moving verse.
The poem lives with the breathing poet
as current as the damp saliva of a fresh kiss.
Dusty classics have their value,
but the cobwebs of old ideas grow cumbersome.
The time comes when the thees, thous, and wherefores must cease.
Like archaic relics of books never checked out of the library,
or old grave markers misunderstood by the new culture.
I’ll choose the present day poets over their grandfathers.
Forward to future poems, not yet penned, I anticipate
written for today, to carry forward to the future.
Please excuse the irony.……
If, you come across this poem…..after I am dead!
Categories:
well turned, on writing and wordsold,
Form: Free verse