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.

Thursday, 28 February 2013

"Deserted" (Entry 243)

There is no sand or desert.
There is no tented sheik
havin' it large.
There are no camels
or dancers of belly.
But I've been deserted,
just me and the telly.

Wednesday, 27 February 2013

"Sticks and Stones" (Entry 242)

Sticks and stones.
Stones and sticks.
Bones break.
Blood pours.
For a name's sake.
Mine or yours?

Shout out.
Scream it loud.
The names I've been called,
and now I'm proud.

for I stood tall
and thickened my skin.
For it taught me well,
what counts... is within.

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

"For Want of a Cat" (Entry 241)

The flea bit on the rat within the grime,
Many existed after the Burning Times.

Executed witches and their familiars, just pets.
The cats were killed, which now they regret.

So out into the world, the rodent ran
from flea to rat to ravaged man.

And on and on and on.

The Black Death scampered,
humanity's growth almost hampered.

And on and on and on.

Death became them, almost all,
this could have been civilisations fall.

For it all started with a flea on rat.
So on they cried, for want of a cat.

"Hiding It Away" (Entry 240)

Most people display it proudly
for all the world to see.
Or wear it for admiring glances.
Isn't that the way to be?
Though, she keeps hers in a box
locked beneath the stairs.
They are her dreams and wishes
guarded by despair.

"The Silent Noise of Anger" (Entry 239)

Bang and clench!
Bang and clench!
Bang! Bang! Bang!

Hidden away the silent noise of anger.
Off angled moments held in the jaw
rather than expressed.
Better to add dis-ease within
than hurt another.


"Mad Moments" (Entry 238)

Twitch. Itch. Snitch.
Flinch the inch and clinch.
Out with clout,
the lout of madness, sadness, badness
that lies in the fibbing bed
to curse and worse -
it drains the brain.
Now train it!
Lock away despair 
and let out with flair... YOU!

"The Wake Up Call" (Entry 237)

Enough is enough!
Out of the rough,
you're no duffer.
A cuff to the ear.

The ringing reaches brain.
The strain.
To lift vibration and take the pen.
To write, and read, and think in positive.
Are you fluent?

"Be Bright!" (Entry 236)

Grasp that lightbulb above your head.
Time to change the filament and
spark the figment of your imagination.
Delight in the wonders of the world.
It's been dark for too long.
Take flight.
Be Bright!

"Ghosts of my Past" (Entry 235)

Ghosts of my past
seep in to dreams.
The moments that happened and
those of wishes.
Memories of what was and
could have been.
Spectres circle my bed unseen.
So night's no delight.
As regret takes hold of throat
to shake it loose
and not take root.
To think forward
of NOW
not past.
Grab hold of the future,
for it won't last.

Tuesday, 19 February 2013

"The Space of Dreams" (Entry 234)

In the dreams of others,
That's where she grew up.
Never allowing one of her own.
That's why she killed them,
To find her private space.
Not what to do?
Was she too late?
She was.
Here's the police!

Sunday, 17 February 2013

"Surprise Circumstance" (Entry 233)

I can't believe it! Is that you?
Who would have though it! If only I knew.
What a surprise! What a shock!
Such a coincidence! Who turned back the clock?

"Tub Soak" (Entry 232)

Bathe in the lap of china tub.
Soak and wash with salty rub.
Take your time, unstress and scrub.
This, the watery haven beyond the hubbub.

Saturday, 16 February 2013

"'" (Entry 231)

"To validate the apostrophe.
Never meant a lot to me.
Until I owned that missing thing.
(Does this have a familiar ring?)
Listen. I am talking to you.
It's a poet's way - a todo."

Wednesday, 13 February 2013

"Newsprint's Dyes A Lie" (Entry 230)

Lies! Lies! Gossip's evil tongue.
Written not in black and white,
But blood ripped along wrist's vein.
Seeping across the headlined grey
to be dirtied by many rumoured thumbs.
A life destroyed by words,
Then death succumbed...

"Yarns of the High Seas" (Entry 228)

The storm rolled in the scent of ocean fog,
Ozonic tang mixed with far-off cities smog.
The smell of tall tales from squat sea mariners
of monsters and maidens and the drowned hereafter.
The whiff of adventures hoisted high on masts
returning salty emotions of sea change and laughter.
The fishy fragrance of replenished stocks that deep dwell.
Crustacean from oppressive depths who cracked a smile before their shell.

"Moments Listed" (Entry 229)

The harsh word. The appointment missed.
The unposted letter. The others he kissed.
This is the forgotten list.
The crinkled eye. Stroke on the wrist.
Giggles and jokes told in secret hiss.
Always remembered, moments like this.


Love to you on St. Valentine's Day. 💌

"Night Mechanical" (Entry 227)

Beat out the rhythmic tock to tick,
this lust of patterns of the night.
Even breaths of dreams you pick.
Moonlight cogs of dark delight.

Monday, 11 February 2013

"Pithy Comments on Peeling Rind" (Entry 226)

Grip to dimpled thick skin.
But not hard enough to stab the talon and rip open.
Orange revels to reveal the white and blossomed delight.
Rind divine.
Aroma to smell, and upon the tongue.
Enticing, inviting,
Peeled back until flesh bare,
Ready to segment and savour the citrus flavour.
Hunger saviour.

"Water's Wave" (Entry 225)

How do I begin?
A touch.
A stroke.
A sin.
Water waves across my skin.
To dive, delve, drive through and survive.
A crash of caress, the best to be alive.

"In Denial" (Entry 224)

I can't accept this task
As there's no such thing.
I'm in denial.

"Where Loneliness Lives" (Entry 223)

Some people say their loneliness stalks,
Others say it enters and walks
Upon their lives, until
Friendship drives to kill
The despair
But I share
My life with lonely forever.
In fact, we live together.

"Power to the Shower" (Entry 222)

Oh, I wish, when I took a shower,
The water had a lot more power.
I want it to feel like tropic rain.
Instead it spits, in drops, what a pain!
I've known cat licks
Wetter than this.


Poem 222! Only 333 to go! ;-)
If you have any comments, please add them to this post.
Thank you for coming along on this journey with me.

"Thought Behind Voice" (Entry 221)

I said, "Hello, good to see you."
(I meant, "You're here? I wish I knew.")

I said, "How you doing? You look swell."
(I meant, "You look a state, in fact, like hell.")

"We must catch up soon," I said.
(What I meant? "I wish you dead!")

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

"Rented Journey into Future" (Entry 220)

It was the first time she'd driven a rented truck.
Listened carefully to the serge-shirted hire guy,
As he pointed to the dashboard with tobacco-stained fingers.

Now her own red lacquered talons caressed the worn steering wheel
congealed with sweat and bacterial infections.
Her boobs jiggled, in their low-cut top,
and she giggled on high sprung seats and higher suspension.
Tension released.
Gathered behind her, in boxes, stacked her worldly goods.
All on their way to her new life.
Six hours cross country... Into her future on unknown piece of planet.

Monday, 4 February 2013

"Basement Dwells..?" (Entry 219)

If there'd been a ghost,
We'd have kept it in the basement.
In the cupboard in the corner,
Behind the padlocked paint-peeled door.
It would scratch and howl and rattle his chains,
Wanting to scare his only joy.
If there'd been a ghost,
We'd have kept it in the basement.
If there'd been a basement at all.

"Unmarked Place Gives Chase" (Entry 218)

Graffiti rusted shutters shout,
Don't stop! You'll never get away!
Save us! Don't save us! Take us with you!
Lone manky hound coughs a whiney howl
puzzled by your sight.
An unnamed village that wants to stay hidden.
Forgotten as soon as you pass.

"Fire's on Fire" (Entry 217)

It sparked!
A lighting flick of spurred orange and yellow,
To roar adored on gas in aqua-blue mellow.
It ripped and raced in lightening streaks to strike and flight,
To boom and bellow - a hot red fellow.
To scream in bright white light.
Colours rainbowed - pure delight!

"Dart from the Heart" (Entry 216)

There are questions you know by heart.
Like why, who, where and was that a fart?
And when and how? An' do you know that tart?