Home » Poems » Best » Peter Hackwell » Best Peter Hackwell Poems

Best Poems Written by Peter Hackwell

Below are the all-time best Peter Hackwell poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

Fragmented Thoughts

My fractured head, my rough- hewn eyes
Dismembered parts of a dissociated mind
My body severed like Kandinsky’s art.
Spread across a canvas
Corner to sharp corner
Leave no space unfilled 
But nothing touches, 
Nothing resembles its former self
Yet all pieces can see all others
Contained for now 
Within the borders of a frame
But floundering in a cosmos of 
A jagged life.
Let all the pieces land.
Ephemeral in the sand
Here today, gone tomorrow, 
 But no, it seems a sharded edge must cut another slice of day
Bring in a cello, a vase of deathly violets
Obscurise them, nothing can be what it was
From the Old Order must be drawn a New Meaning

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

Then and Now

Gone now the storm, we foundered on the shoreline
Two broken souls never met in a before time
Similar though distant we had spent our lives apart
You, in your beautiful, solitary world and me in unhappy mine
What conjures fate – a Greater Hand than we know or can conceive?
‘Tis dealt this deck, and shuffled pretty well
Do we then need to make sense of its randomness?
Unpick its mysteries, if you will?
A deck can be shuffled twice or thrice before we find our suit
Yet we are for pairing, all of us, we would find a soul to mate
Less we live a life unentwined,
Where a single heart has a single beat 
Or disentwined - if mental anguish prevails - if the bond is too weak, 
Or reentwined, as did find the tendrils from our lost souls and our hearts
How quickly they did grow in strength and bore fruits despite the season
We did not need a reason to explain what just union occurred
Cemented forever in the footprint of this world.

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

Tromso

Tromsø

Your shiny streets, subdued footsteps, silent, snow -softened cars.
Plumply-padded pavements. Shuddering snow slips from the roof slopes above. 
Words softly spoken – hushed - heated words make slush. 
People stay indoors, behind the swish of a thermal shutter. 
Lots of nightly noise, machines to move the mounds of menacing snow for the early frozen few.
No dreams disturbed behind their swished, silent chalet slumber.
Still the snow falls mutely. 
Shouldn’t stand so close to shops where the nightly collection may Niagara.
It finds no succour on unsteady slates 
It rests unruffled, newly nested upon the swollen ledges and the spires, where in warmer times the birds might sit a while. 
No wheeling gulls their shrill shrieks silenced by the stillness of the snow.
Cold breeze and seas freeze in the hostile, hopeless hinterland where nothing grows amid the long winter floes.
Inside the homely hostel, hear the happy humour of a hundred distant dialects, of those who come to listen to the silence. 
They are walkers-not for dogs or cats or other nightly stalkers. 
Here, no spirited footprints left fresh in the first-light, cosmetically concealed by fallen flakes.
Prices high as your crisp blue skies.
Thank you for accepting me and my heart for our short time. You pleased us both.

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

Sparkles

Sparkles

I likened me to the sea and you – a beautiful fish
I watched you swim and dance below my sun-kissed waves
Your movement aerated my water, bringing me life, and so oxygen to your lungs
I watched you develop within your protected surroundings 
I felt your every movement as they caressed the very fabric of my being
My existence was for you and yours for me, as we nurtured our lives together
I saw you smile from all around – and around I always was
My whole body ebbing and flowing to the rhythm of your life 
We were together through the cycles of the moon, the day and the night, 
Giving each other such company and devotion as found only in mariners’ tales
We danced and swam together and drifted upon life’s unknowns
And we shall again my Beauty...

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

A Rhyming Coo-Plet

Every day and in every life, a pigeon passes by
We usually don't take heed of this Spitfire of the sky.

You'll find it's been out foraging or finding things for nests,
For parenting, I think you'll find that pigeons do it best.

Their bedding may be shabby, not lined with fleece or silk
But unlike most in the avian world, these birds produce rare milk.

The squabs grow up all big and strong, with no formal education
But if you ever see one 'lost', you will be mistaken.

Their homing skills are second to none, so salute them on their way
Through battlefields and across far seas, these birds have saved the day.

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

The Topic of Cancer

Try as it might to humiliate you and take your self respect
Running round your veins like the coward that it is
You simply turned your cheek towards it
Thus depriving it of its victory
It did its best to try and bring you down
But the more resolute you became
And when you finally tired of this, I inhaled your last breath
So that it couldn't uphold you as its trophy.
Shallow gesture really, my Love, as we both know that it claimed two lives that day.

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

Hashtagdeath

#Death.
140letterstotelltheworldaboutyou. Will it get you followed and become a global brand and be retweeted in some far off distant land?

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

I Only Tell of Sunny Hours

I only tell of sunny hours...
But oh, what joy they bring
As I sit within this stone built wall,
Above, the church bell rings.

Upon the hour it tolls away
And tries to keep with mine
Sometimes I think it gets it wrong
It must be hard to chime

My shadow after all is there 
All day upon my face
He moves around so slowly
While I watch the Human Race.

I only tell of sunny hours...
That's when good folk come out
They work the fields in harmony
The tall, the short, the stout.

I tell them when it's time to come 
And when it's time to go.
The bell it helps a little,
But they like to look below.

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

Last Day of Cycling To Work

Jack - Jack - Jack - Jack
JackJackJackJackJack
Woodpecker hammers in my head.

Jack - Jack - Jack - Jack 
JackJackJackJackJack 
Clear and red comes from my head

Jack  -  Jack  -  Jack
JackJack  -  Jack
Yellow Jack-et talks to me

Jack - Jack
Painless   -    Jack__________________

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

The Exponential Love Equation

'y', represents Love (L) and is the vertical axis.
'x', represents Effort (E), or the work put in and is the horizontal axis.
Rate Love from 1-10 and express Effort in time, whether it be months or years, but also 1-10.
The resultant curve that rises 'P' is exponential and represents pain.
Pain will be felt wherever it stops, because one or both of the factors that prevent it from stopping, Love and Effort, will also have stopped.
Thus it can be expressed: 
L x E = P.
Please add this to the school curriculum.