555 Days... The Continuation

Welcome to 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe

Back in 2010, I challenged myself to write a poem or a short verse a day, and post it to a blog. 555 Days as a Poet by The Crafty Scribe is the continuation of the experiment.

I gave myself 18 months to recover from the original daily blog postings, and now, I am ready to start it all over again. Although as I was beginning in the middle of the year, I thought 6 months was too short a time after my last experience.

"If I could complete a year of poems, how about 18 months?" I thought. I worked out that would be 549 days. I could have rounded it up to 550 to included New Years Day 2014, but then I thought I'd go 5 better... to 555 days.

Why 555? According to many spiritual teachers, the number 555 is a sign of change and the flow of energy. I thought it related to the blog. I spent a year writing a poem every day, then rested for 18 months. Now the tide has turned. It's time to begin the flow of words in my life again.

I'm not a trained poet, just an enthusiastic scribe wanting to create something new each day. I don't truly know my stanza from my meter, but I hope to improve and get my poetic license someday! Expect the weird, the strange and the inner workings of the Crafty Scribe's mind. Let's ride the waves once more.

Please pass on the blog address to all your verse and lyrical loving friends. I hope you will join me, and read my daily scribbling.

Friday, 30 November 2012

"Awake" (Entry 153)

There used to be a time when he would brag about this.
"Man! Didn't get to sleep all night! Didn't even... even get to bed!"
A wry wink from bleary low beams.

Tonight, he was in bed. Awake.
Eyes forced shut only to trigger spring back.
The rest of the world at peace.
He could feel it.
Not him.

He knew why.

Echoing siren rattled through the room.
The sound carried through static air from the Interstate.
He gripped the sweat soaked sheet,
and thrashed to turn transfixed at the alien object by his bed.
"They're coming to get me!"
He screamed as he stared at the blood stained dagger.

Thursday, 29 November 2012

"Plastic Wrapped Panic" (Entry 152)

I panic!
Thrashing at steeled plastic.
Beyond human touch.

They told me it would be like this.
(But I never thought what it would be like.)

I volunteered.
We all did.
Test subjects for a new tomorrow.

Trapped within the perspex coffin.
A prised prized specimen.
I am.
Not to be opened for 100 years.
The Longevity Experiment.
Alive but not living.
Breathing without the breath of kiss.
Existing void of experience.
One hundred years of this?

I panic!

"Here and Now" (Entry 151)

What can we hold?
Be it nothing.
A grasp at insubstantial time.
And yet.
We do.
Caught up not to notice that
we only have now.
The moment that's here.
Now gone.
We gather thoughts to memories and spend
what we do have
on planning a distant future
as far as the next dimension.
Intangible - never got.

Tuesday, 27 November 2012

"Memories of Another Life" (Entry 150)

I remember Toledo,
when the cars roared and
the girls wanted to be chased but stayed chaste.
The drive-in movie was the place to be,
or Joe's Soda and Milk Bar on Montgomery Street.
My letterman jacket worn proudly on the shoulders of May.
A life not mine, not now, remembered too well.

Monday, 26 November 2012

"Three Days of Rain" (Entry 149)

The height of summer.
It rained for three days.
Weatherman said heat wave.
It rained for three days.

Can't go out, what a bummer!
It rained for three days.
It's as dark as a cave.
Oh, we love British summer ways.

Sunday, 25 November 2012

"Lost My Bearings" (Entry 148)

Where oh, where?
I've lost my bear.
Please, oh, pleasey things!
He's wearing his favourite rings.
Can you help? I can't find my way.
Did you see him on this day?
I'm sure I'm on the right track.
He's easy to recognise, and that's a fact!

"Life Story" (Entry 147)

Scattered with pain and time alone.
Made up with warmth and laughter of home.
Welcomed and cared for. Taught me right.
Proper behaviour rewarded by an all-inclusive life.

Friday, 23 November 2012

"Underneath" (Entry 146)

They manipulate you with their good intentions.
On the surface, applauded.
So wonderful!
What a saint!
Iceberg smiles hide ulterior motive.
With one hand, they give.
And the other - they grasp and tear
Leaving you bear.
You can't complain or explain.
No one will believe you.
The Titanic to their devastation.
Hit hard and ripped apart.

Thursday, 22 November 2012

"Waste of a Life" (Entry 145)

Awake. Too late. Can't move with aches.
Left to fester in sweat and vile.
Count the hours - here awhile.
Attempt to rise, to brush and wash.
This is my life. What a loss!

"Cost" (Entry 144)

To make it safe, to build the dome.
To create environment that we call home.
To protect the fortunate who we say best.
To secure survival we forgot the rest.
To perpetual life this is what it cost.
To carry humanity billions were lost.

Tuesday, 20 November 2012

"Fog Surfing" (Entry 143)

In a cloud.
A dank dark dismal rain-drenched fog.
Surf on through.
Dazzled by hazy headlamps glaring back,
Reflecting gloom and despair.
No high beamed hope today.
Oh, to ride and reach the destination.

Monday, 19 November 2012

"Postcard" (Entry 142)

Dear You.
It's me.
The weather's been hot.
Been doing this and that and not a lot.
Been eating loads and drinking beer.
Quite a nice country.
Wish you were here!

Sunday, 18 November 2012

"Lost with Me" (Entry 141)

When I die. So will my laughter.
No more cheers to the success of others,
And tears will no longer flow.
They will go.

When I'm gone, the world will carry on
And so will you.
So think of me along your way.
Don't remember the things that died with me.
Think on the memories that live with you.

Saturday, 17 November 2012

The Dealt Hand" (Entry 140)

Get used to it.
This is your life.
If you feel like it's a backhand,
The world and the cards you were dealt.
Or rigged, a cheat or a sleight.
Change it all!
Get off your knees. It's you who's knelt.

Friday, 16 November 2012

"Possibilities" (Entry 139)

I wait - for possibilities to catch me.
There's a whole host out there, I'm told.
Look I'm ready and here and - no show.
For you must chase them, get out and be bold!

Thursday, 15 November 2012

"Cut It Off" (Entry 138)

Scissors. Clippers. Shaver on grade.
Cut it all off, before I'm too late.
Mirror checked. Nod approval and paid.
Back in six weeks. Hair growth is our fate.

Wednesday, 14 November 2012

"Awake. Oh, to Sleep" (Entry 137)

Awake. Neon digits warp. Pillow flattened
and sworn at. Open eyes forced shut.
Can't close down the mind.
Never a comfortable spot.
'Til dawn. Worn out fighting to delight in...
At the wrong time.

Tuesday, 13 November 2012

"A Regular Week's End" (Entry 136)

At the weekend. It rained.
It always pours. It always does.
Plans made and broken and rearranged.
Making the best of it.
Waiting for a break.
Before Sunday's eve comes 'round.

Monday, 12 November 2012

"To Nail Time" (Entry 135)

The long languid humid afternoon took its toll as she painted her nails.
Time was on her side, the heat was not.
Lacquer congealed as she stroked across each acrylic tapered talon.
Ridges formed in thick glop making the tortuous task tiresome, but not... impossible.
Base coat to
two coats of "Impatient Kiss", a bitten blood-soaked scarlet tone.
Then topped off in top coat to gleam, gloss and even.
But even then -
All she had to do was wait.

Sunday, 11 November 2012

"Last Stop Before The Long Journey" (Entry 134)

Train slowed its tranced tracked tack.
"Baston Longacre"
Last stop before arrival at her own.
Not her own. His.
Last breath on a long journey.
Too long.
Tip of the country to the end.
Many engines. Five changes.
A stop away.
He knew she was coming.
He'd be at the station.
With flowers.
Probably crimson Roses. Her favourite.
He knew that.
She'd told him. In emails.
Was she ready?
Not for flowers, but what they meant.
Their love.
Their relationship had been easy,
with miles apart,
only video calls, phones and emails to carry them on.
It had been fun.
Was that a crime?
Now what?
Living together.
It's what they wanted. What they planned.
She stood on the platform at Baston Longacre and watched the train move on.

Saturday, 10 November 2012

"At A Price" (Entry 133)

The Estate Agent chattered in the background,
Something about south-facing built-in cupboards.
They glided through the first floor,
Ooohing and Aaahing at fireplaces and Aga ranges.
Then tackled the stairs to the next floor of the spectacular five storey town house.
They couldn't believe the asking price, Georgian, in such good condition too!
That was until they struck the blind of the second bedroom window. Then they discovered... and knew.

Friday, 9 November 2012

"Tale of the Un-lasted" (Entry 132)

I planted seeds in the pot, and watched them finally sprout.
Fed and watered as they grew, as the sun came out.
Soon buds appeared and unfurled.
Scarlet poppy petals met the world.
But within a day, they wilt so frail.
As nothing lasts, not even this tale.

Thursday, 8 November 2012

"Stripped" (Entry 131)

You stripped the mantle to show the naked me.
Then whipped and flayed my skin to find how inner self can be.
But dreams that me and I will tend to be told only when bidden.
Along with my thoughts and memories, are shown by me alone, stay hidden.

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

"Bits of the Bad" (Entry 130)

Pick your feet's hard skin.
Never put things in the bin.
Picking your nose and toes too.
Never put down the seat on the loo.
Scratches in strange and weird places.
Centre of hall leaves the cases.
Burps and snores and always farts.
Leaves all a mess then departs.
Much on my list and more than this.
But I'll always adore and love you to bits.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012

"There" (Entry 129)

I hadn't expected a surprise,
As I stood there with bright full moon eyes.
We stepped off the plane,
Queued up by the chain
and entered back to these lands.

I hadn't expected a surprise,
For when we left there were no goodbyes.
But there you all were,
The hello'ed shouts all a blur.
We're glad we are back in your hands.

Monday, 5 November 2012

"A Change of Clothes" (Entry 128)

They were given to me, these genes.
Adapted from babe through teens.
I'm a hand-me-down girl,
Wishing for designer twirl
On life and all that it brings.
No more sad charity thing(s).
For it's time for a better plan.
Of changing clothes, not a fan.
Leave the vintage behind.
Look to future that's my kin(d).

Sunday, 4 November 2012

"I was meant to be someone else" (Entry 127)

This isn't my life I'm living.
Let me spell it o.u.t and explain.
I was meant to be someone else.
Someone famous or clever or wealthy,

instead I'm stuck here - an imposter.
Restricted by forces dark and unseen.
This isn't my life I'm living.
Just existing and hoping to be healthy.

In fact, when I think, I don't want to be persons otherwise.
Just the better me, the best me I can be. Now that's a surprising surprise!

Saturday, 3 November 2012

"Father's Fable" (Entry 126)

A man made to be self-created.
Singer of choral chorus,
Made to wear the khaki too soon.

Friday, 2 November 2012

"A Movement in The Distance" (Entry 125)

All was quiet, apart from nature
Which never stops.
All of humanity, in this part of this island,
Was quiet. As it should be,
As they stood guard.
Then something moved
In the distance,
Beyond the barbed wires, missiles and armed forces.
Between sandstone buildings, something moved.
Flashlights searched out... A stray dog!
No. Not a stray... with an owner out after curfew.
An old hunched woman. A batty lady.
They sigh.
Too early!
She straightens and blazes round after round.
Night turns to day.
Fires, cries and someone or more dies.
Watch out
When something moves in the distance.

Thursday, 1 November 2012

"Unfamiliar Roads" (Entry 124)

U-bends. Unseen turns.
To stare around,
Before you know what's there.
Such is life.
And roads.