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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

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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

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.

Details | Peter Hackwell Poem

Good Grief

My friend, my love, tell me, where did you go?
With a smile like yours you could be anywhere
That you’re happy and safe is all I hope
But I just need to know that you’re there

You took my smile when you went away
But I still have yours right here
I hope they can reunite some day
‘Cos all I’ve got is tears
And I cry, because they dried too soon
But their salty scars remain
They weaved their way down my lost face
Like valleys formed by rain

Girl, you were gentle, you had so much fun
Wrapped up in your fair skin
Your brackeny hair was the talk of the town
And you let nobody in
Is being pretty such a sin?

You took things from me, but you left me gold
This gold I cannot use
It stays locked up in my treasure house 
Where it beats away at my blues
Yes, it beats away at my blues

I may forget how much I’ve got
When many days pass me by
But I see your wealth everywhere
And you’re always in my eye

Tell me where you are my love, or tell me where you’ll be
Please tell me where you are my love, I’d sail the seven seas.


Wife, I know, you’re not coming back
Yet there’s still so much to do
I need to get things back on track
But it’s hard ‘cos I still love you
So girl, when I’ve done with life myself
I know what I’m going to do
You stay right there, with your brackeny hair
I’m gonna come & sit right next to you.