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.
Showing posts with label destruction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label destruction. Show all posts

Thursday, 31 October 2013

"Wails about Gales" (Entry 485)

Doom and gloom 
Shouted the news. 
Armageddon's blowing down. 

Winds and rains,
Rattled at panes. 
Throughout the fields and the towns. 

Some destruction. 
Sadly deaths. 
Though most can tell the tale. 

Stormy night. 
Caused a fright. 
Onwards goes our time of gales. 

*************
My love and best wishes to all those affected by last night's/this morning's storms here in the UK.

Saturday, 5 October 2013

"So, You've Gone" (Entry 456)

I wept once. 
When I heard you had gone. 
Not for you,
For those left behind. 
You hurt. 
You were worth-less and less. 
And yet. And yet. 
You destroyed more 
Than you ever gave. 
So I and we wave goodbye.
No more tears shed
On the life you lead. 

Wednesday, 31 July 2013

"Born A Thousand Tears Ago" (Entry 386)

Born. 
A thousand tears ago. 
A thousand million light years away. 
A place blown to
A thousand million billion pieces 
In the Dymantism Conflict. 
That was the best thing to happen to it. 

It wasn't a town on a planet.
It was a breeding ground on a facility. 

Conceived in embrovats. 
Developed then sucked from the gel 
To dwell and be raised in optimum statis. 

Fed nutrients and knowledge. 
Extracted waste and individuality. 

Breed, born and betrayed. 
Genetically grown grunts. 

The best thing to happen to that place was when it was blown apart. 

Artificial wombs went boom!

I should know. 
One of their Spawned Warriors, made to order, made the order.
I pressed the trigger.

"We Didn't Notice The Rain" (Entry 373)

We didn't notice. 
Not straight away. 
If at all, 
We gazed to say,
"Thank Goodness, the rain's stopped. 
No umbrella this day."

We cheered the sun beamed and smiled. 
We can plan that Barbecue...
Fingers crossed - touch wood. 
It will stay clear. 
Without fear, clear it stayed. 
No rain. Clouds disappeared. 

Unexpected heat wave,
Announced the recalculating weather bureau. 
Who knew? (They didn't.)
Cor! Wot A Scorcher!
Leered the tabloids,
Showing scantily clad peaches on beaches. 

Water rationing into place. 
Two months after the rain ceased. 
Just to be on the safe side,
Murmured over-paid aides in Government and Utilities. 
Both wringing hands in greed and sweat.
(Ways of wealth increase of us? You bet!)

Panic 
Set in as storage levels dropped. 
Draught becoming crisis. 
Asthmatic mist hung over the land
Wheezing and sucking last moisture from earth. 
Weak winds grasped and gasped. 

No water in reservoirs or rivers. 
No water in ponds or lakes. 
On shelves in bottles became extinct. 
A drop of pure more valued than diamond or gold 
No meaning linked to money, itself. 
Sea levels dropped as tides weakened world wide. 

Humans no equipped for fittest survival. 
After the rain stopped,
Grass and trees,
To elephant and bees,
Withered and dried to die
And so did we. 

Tuesday, 21 May 2013

"Force Unknown" (Entry 324)

You ripped my world apart
When you came through. 
Broke my heart, 
Tore my soul. 
You never knew. 

*****

Our love and thoughts go out to those devastated by the Oklahoma City tornado. 

Thursday, 25 April 2013

"Snail" (Entry 296)


The snail crunched under her stiff shop-new sandals.
The girl picked up her foot slowly,
To star at the squashed grey gel
Oozing and spreading around the splinted shell.
A broken bad egg.

She turned to watch her mother who,
Through open french doors,
Sand along to the radio as 
She washed the blue and white striped breakfast crockery.
Her eye-lashes fluttered, as she looked up,
Feeling her daughter’s gaze upon her.
She smiled and waved a soap-sudsed hand
And returned to her task.

The girl gently rolled her foot over the murder
And cracked the shell further,
Satisfied in the smash and the sound,
She went in search of another snail.

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

"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.
Right.

right???...

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...

Friday, 21 December 2012

"Vicious Viscous Vapour" (Entry 174)

Steam rising.
Mist surprising.
Smog envelopes.
Fog develops.
Vapour dwells.
Gas swells.
Cigarette smokes
to cancerous chokes.

Monday, 8 October 2012

"Attention!" (Entry 100)

The victory of impact
will lead no more to
undefeated whimpers
Eaten away by the ghosts
Of decay, fighting to create
New cavities.
Here comes the cavalry!
To act of the drain
and weave in the futile.
There's a knack to celebration.
Return to barracks and
Barricade the world.