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 26 September 2013

"Your Inner Flame" (Entry 453)

Ignite emotion. 
Let it burst forth. 
Shine brightly, be true. 
Smile, laugh, cry. Be YOU!

"Love's Declare" (Entry 452)

I declare with all my might. 
That you're my love, my one delight. 
I want to shout and scream out loud,
You are the one that makes me proud. 
I want to kiss you, whisper words so true. 
You are my heart, my soul. For I love you. 

"Bring Disco Back!" (Entry 451)

I have the flair. 
I have the knack. 
It's time to bring
Disco back!

Grab a partner. 
Move those muscles. 
Bop to the groove. 
Let's do the hustle!

Side-close-side. 
Point and hop. 
Give a twirl. 
Do the Bus Stop!

Take a step. 
Keep on smiling. 
Feel the beat.
Now you're free styling!

We have the flair. 
We have the knack. 
It's time to bring
Disco back!

"Loaf About" (Entry 450)

I loafed about. 
Rolled outta bed.  
So didn't get that rise. 
I just earn my bread.

Not much dough in it.
A crumby job, time to move.
It's all gone sour. 
I've got nothing to prove. 

"Her Matters!" (Entry 449)

I shouldn't have asked what was the matter. 
For she went on and on and on, fermata! 
Oh, for that shrill voice to stop. 
Then she was gone. Peace, pause and rest. 

"A Crop of Universal Fruition" (Entry 448)

Taste of heavens. 
Solar and juicy. 
Planets ripen in fruity delight. 
(Olive Pluto of different class, but still enjoyed.)
Neptune clustered grape-like, with your moons. 
Succulent watermelon Uranus melts on by. 
Albedo shine of citrus Saturn,
Tumbled by a honeydewed Jupiter. 
Sweet strawberry Mars giggles and glows red in bashful glee. 
Earth, round and tasty. Eve's apple, ready for the picking. 
Venus, beautiful pear, luscious and plump. 
To Mercury's pomegranate. What's important, lies beneath. 
All bask in Sun's glory. 
A basket of perfection in place, their space. A crop of Universal fruition. 

"Evil Does" (Entry 447) *horror

Caress that sectile space. 
A dream of damaged determinant in distant destiny. 
Naught distant. Due now!
Tied lithe limbs. 
Ready for bidden behaviour
Listed before. In this state. And places to be. 
Hidden, unfound, below ground. 
Unfounded suspicions - a truth to lie upon. 
Snatch scalpel, sharp-contrast against supple skin. 
Don't be shy. Dig in!

"Little Silver Bell" (Entry 446)

Silver bell on red bicycle. 
Trill out your bring
Take thrill in your ring. 
"Bring! Brrring!"
"Ring! Ringggg!"
High tring echoing tin. 
Sing out, Little Bell. Sing out!

Saturday 21 September 2013

"Beat On" (Entry 445)

Drum! Drum!
Beat on
Life's rhythm. 

"One Summer" (Entry 444)

You laughed. 
You smiled. 
Danced like a child,
But I was one too. 

My heart. 
My dreams. 
My love so it seemed. 
For one summer through. 

Monday 16 September 2013

"Summer Blackout" (Entry 443)

Dogs bark in distance,
Drizzle greets the bleary eye. 
Who switched off summer?

"Pedometer's Prayer" (Entry 442)

Take haste. 
Run endure. 
Counting steps. 
Keeping score. 
Heart levels. 
Exercise more. 
Round the block. 
Been here before. 

"Bad Blood" (Entry 441)

Bad blood! Bad blood!
Wrong child!
Misbehave. 
It's in your blood. 

Bad blood! Bad blood!
Wrong stock!
Doesn't fit. 
Be grateful you were taken in. 

Bad blood! Bad blood!
The halo's slipped.
Foundling!
Should have left you, where they found you. 

Bad blood! Bad blood!
Ran hot and cold. 
Fiery and indifferent. 
Pumping at heart and soul. 

Bad blood! Not bad at all!
Same as any teenage. 
Though they said, bad blood. 
The heart was strong and bold. 

Friday 13 September 2013

"Granny's Love" (Entry 440)

No crochet hooks. 
Nor tea-time treats. 
No shoulder for crying. 
Or lavender hug greets. 
No wise owl words. 
Or bed time tale. 
Nor cloth on forehead,
When hot or pale. 
No Christmas gifts 
Or birthday wishes. 
No shared secrets,
Or powdered kisses. 
For I never felt a Granny's love. 
For she had left for Heavens above. 

Thursday 12 September 2013

"Ode to Woad on Dusty Road!" (Entry 439)

O, ode to woad on dusty road. 
Isatis tinctoria, I used to adore ya. 
Cabbage extracted, then powdered. Pathetic!
No more seeded, superseded by synthetic.
You flowering plant from family Brassicaceae.  
Yellow fellow, you made me blue. Alas, I dye!

*******
I entered the 'Vogon Poetry' competition set by http://www.hitchhikerslive.com/ alas I didn't win! Seeing as it was a competition for the worst poetry, I don't know whether not winning was a good thing or not! :-) I hope you like it anyway

"Coast Road" (Entry 438)

Drive the coat road. 
A signature scrawled. 
Bend beyond bend. 
Chiseled melt of sand belt 
Against soothing moving vast potion of ocean. 

To drive, to see,
For, I am home. 
My place to be. 
Single lanes of dipping, slipping, Tarmac'd heat. 
Overtaking, sliding, squeaking on leather seat. 

This slick grey snake slinks 
from north to south, south to north,
As sun slices and sinks beyond 
the ebb and flow of expanse burst forth. 

To drive, to see. 
For, I am home. 
My place to be. 
My place to be. 

"Colour Concert" (Entry 437)

Pigment cast. Chroma blush. 
Glow iridescent. Tinted wash. 
Luminous gloss. Painted bloom. 
Illuminate glaze. Embellish imbue.
Stains of colours. Hues ricochet.
Tone with words. Tinctures play.

"One Sideways Glance" (Entry 436)

He wasn't a religious man,
In fact, he was a Dawkins fan. 
So why was he praying to every God?
To keep them safe, his team, his squad. 

A sideways glance was all he needed. 
To send the alert, the warning which should be heeded. 
To spot their mark, let him make his move. 
Bring about success, they'd much to prove. 

Keeping sharp, he shifted weight. 
Ready, waiting, their man to locate. 
Grasping into pocket, his revolver. 
With one sideways glance, it'll all be over. 

"She Kept Her Eyes Shut" (Entry 435)

She kept her eyes shut,
As nurse went about her busy-ness. 
She kept her eyes shut,
Wanting to be left awhile longer. 
To linger in dreams before the din. Monotonous routine of day screamed in. 

She kept her eyes shut,
To stave off the relentless chatter
the nurse would rattle as soon as knew she was awake. 
She kept her eyes shut,
And listened to metal clatter on metal,
Dull clank of glass to ceramic grazed.  
The judder and jar of her bed as the head was raised. 

Cover blown! Eyes open. Banter began,
As sheets were shed to be replace by crisper and cleaner. 
Along with flurry of washcloths and water,
Made her cleaner too. 
She shut her eyes against the blush. 
That rose in cheeks, before
Night gown replaced and smoothed. 
Teeth brushed and then her hair,
With daily compliment about colour so fair. 

She kept her eyes shut. 
As she was pulled forward to have pillows plumped. 
She lay against the nurse's own plump lavender scented pillows 
Which nestled beneath starched white uniform. 
Laid back in place to catch, 
by cough in throat, 
the whiff of peppermint toothpaste and chewing gum,
Fighting with tobacco base note. 

She turned her eyes and fixed their gaze 
on open windows, curtains caught a breeze. 
Detection of the world out there,
To be seen in and to see,
Experience and be part of,
But that wasn't her place to be. 

She shut her eyes. 
Her life was these four buttermilk glossy walls, white ceiling fan,
The starched smoky nurse 
And the open windows, now fully draped.
She kept her eyes shut. 
Yet, the tears escaped. 

"Resist or Release?" (Entry 434)

Unlatch heavy brass lock
That shines in sun. 
Slide French doors,
Rattle in resistance,
Submit to new position,
Moan and groan,
Open wide,
How far you go. 

"Lethal Comes Life" (Entry 433)

Hushed tones. Not a gasp of breath. 
Botanist balletic grace,
Point and stretch to raise the prize,
In pot within its air-locked climate. 

Steady glove coax pollen (of deathly scent)
from Irisium Reptoria to
Hybrid Irisium Mortum (leaves poison to touch.)
Their bid?

Hid from all,
A heady mix of hope. 
To nurture nature and produce 
Universal Paxa Illiquisa - panacea. 
Cure all diseases.
From death comes life. 
Lethal to longevity. 
Noble reason. 

"House Unloved" (Entry 432)

Uninviting,
No welcome mat before
Great rusted iron doors. 
Decades decay,
Peeling pea green paint,
Sticky splintered structure,
ancient. 
Derelict dire darkness. 
Place for dead?
Not yet. 
Unloved. Unwanted. 
A house that forgot it was once a home.

"Happy and Safe" (Entry 431)

Bring me talk of happy times. 
Of love and dreams and goals. 
Offer me laughter like tinkling chimes. 
Be with me and stay in these roles. 

Let's behave like comical actors,
With lines full of wit and much charm. 
Hide from me all the negative factors. 
In here, we are safe, there's no harm. 

"The You-glued-Tube" (Entry 430)

Oh, the days I have spent watching You Tube clips
Going from one video to another then more. 

I clicked on to find out time management tips,
Three hours later, glued to wood whittling post-war!

"It wasn't your fault" (Entry 429)

Goodbye, my love. 
It wasn't you. 
I know it'll be the first thought you have. 
I tell you, it wasn't your fault. 
No guilt. No blame. 
When there's speculation in the air, 
You'll want sympathy, love, compassion. 
There! There!

It wasn't your fault
You forgot to notice when I was down. 
It wasn't your fault
You didn't hear my walls tumble down. 
It wasn't your fault
That a slight peck became your love. 
It wasn't your fault
That in my life, it was never enough. 

Remember, my love
As I say, goodbye. 
It wasn't your fault
That I choose to die. 

"What am I to do?" (Entry 428)

In bed. 
Unwell. 
Fed up. 
What to do?

Radio's annoying. 
Telly's too boring. 
Cat is snoring. 
Help me! (imploring)

What am I to do?

Can't read, 
Words jump upon the page. 
Can't write,
Energy low, can't engage. 

What am I to do?

Body's buzzing. 
Head's all fuzzy. 
In a quandary,
In a tizzy!

What am I to do?

Take a drink. 
Think! Think!
Eyes blink, blink. 
On pillow, I sink. 

(Yawn!) What am I to do?

Feeling poorly. A sorry weep. 
Relax, recover. Let calmness creep. 
Recuperation into cells seep. 
I know what to do. Sleep, sleep, sleep!

"After You Left" (Entry 427)

When jokes blend with
Ether's hush
And smiles you've left
Gone way of Cheshire's cat. 
When long told yarns words
swept up with dust. 
I'll still remember the good times 
and all of that. 

"Write. All Right?" (Entry 426)

Scrabble the notes. 
Take up the papers. 
Type out the letters. 
Journal your capers. 
Grab a pencil. 
Check pen filled ink. 
Jot down ideas. 
Write what you think. 

Thursday 5 September 2013

"Makey Bakey Takey Cakey!" (Entry 425)

How long to bake?
How do you make?
For picnic tea - take. 
Eat by a lake, 
Once you're awake. 
(Note: Don't eat off a rake.
For your teeth and tongue's sake.)
In a quake, it will shake.
Don't hug hard, for it'll break.
Never heard it made of hake or steak,
For that is pie and a fake. 
(Google: Favourite food of a snake?)
Too much equals tummy ache. 
Cake! Cake! CAKE!


"Dream's Diatribe - Waking's Praise" (Entry 424)

I woke up crying. 

From a dream, 
in which you were... 

lost. 

Not 'un'found. 
Lost to me - no longer around. 
(Prepared for ground.)
Can't say - nor scribe - the words. 
Though you know
My meaning
Of this keening. 

They wept and wailed. 
I watched them wail and weep. 
I stood before gathered crowd. 
You - I'm proud, but not of them. 
I bit and clawed and chewed them out. 
Told them all, without a doubt,
Of each mistake and disservice recorded,
With each word, it's you, 
It's you, I applauded. 
In the end, an audience shocked, knowing their woes from wrongs. 
A lament of venom. Poisoned songs.  

I woke up crying.
Devastated. 
(In seeing you, my fears abated.) 
Though I reel and break apart,
The scene unbidden which broke my heart. 
For in that nightmare, at the root,
Held many bitter bitten-tongued truth. 
I wish there was strength in my being,
To call them out (on your behalf) with words so freeing. 
Instead emotion stays locked inside,
In subconscious, these diatribes hide. 

I woke up crying,
from dream cruel and strange,
Knowing that there was one way, 
I could act on and change. 
I promise I'll be here you for always. 
I may have woken with tears,
But I'll mop away your sadness. 
Bring warmth and laughter to replace fears. 
I promise, with daring desire,
a passion's extol. 
I'll tell you, I LOVE YOU!
Each day,
With body, heart, mind and soul.