Tag Archives: poem

the slushpile

Here is a little ditty I wrote this morning attempting to get the attention of a little poetry publishing house.

If you are that publishing house and are now reading this – then haha… It worked.

the slushpile

some would question
whether this is wise
to somewhat ruin the surprise
of what is to come
when you look round the corner
and see the lyrics buried
in my tiny eyes.

but reach out I must
to cast my wears
upon the slush pile
with the rest…
…why is there no rest
for those who would rather toil
than smile.

so here is my work
the chicken scratching
of my finger tips
that may be worth
a penny to the masses
and if it turns out not
they can come after me
with their fiery whips.

Wembley Skies

As today is National Poetry Day, here is a little one of my own from the Sunday Latte Lamentations Archive, which I am hoping to include in a published volume someday *sigh*…

Thoughts welcome!

Wembley skies
Arch raised
Ablaze with roars
Of soul’s unfazed
Empty poster boards
Remind to mind the gap
And stay on track
Tell me to keep it down
Not for country or crown
But for peace.
Not much found here
Except the dripping drops
Of inspiration as the
Teams scores for the nation

Another stop passes
One more unmasked station
It’s not my stop
But hearing my destination
A promise of home
Turns into expectation.
So I mind the closing doors
And release the emergency handle.
Focusing on my candle
Stick maker, I forget,
The butcher and head on into
Baker Street, to take my pick
A fleet of franchise
Each providing a new need.

Grabbing my companion in a cup
The beer ad’s ‘wassup?’
Leaves no sting,
A warm sofa seat,
Whose heat I don’t feel.
Just His warmth as the layers
He peels back, reveals
That little bit of His,
That is already mine.
Beyond this congestion zone
Is something more glorious
Not just ‘fine’.
Beyond this groan
Is a place called home.
Not just where the heart is
But where I know and am known..