Turquoise Monster

Air cold, misty halos on the street lamps
You trudge, the nightly fight with twisted gate
Reluctant to let you in
Alarm disarmed
You entire already tired
Fatigued to the core
Dispair slumps your shoulders
All those biscuit crumbs
Sticky finger marks
Each night you wage your war
Hoovering over the same spot
Earasing the footprints of the enemy
Crayons ground underfoot
Fused to grey grim fibres
New works of art each night
Bold colours on the walls
You plug your dated music to your ears
This could take a while
Leaves in the foyer
And vomit on the walls
Then to the dusting
With rhumatism creaking
Elbows aching
Hoovering is the bane
Of the dark hours
So long
So tiring
Time seems to stretch

I am imperfection
See the cracks
See the fractures
The marks of time
Blemishes of pain

You are imperfect
I see the flaws
Bright and vivid
They can not be ignored
Part of you

Do not cry
The words are wrong
Imperfect, flawed, broken
Look at this ring
The ring you gave me
Amythist in antique cut
Your pledge to me
See the rainbow within?
Beauty not flaw

Look at your own
Fractured by clumsyness
Revieled the try stone
The shape it longed to be
No longer restrain
In hard lines
Silken swirl

You and me perfect
Colours swerl
Smooth shapes interlock
If others fail to see
It is their lose

Whispered moment
In twilight
Shifting shadows
Confuse the mind
An angles kiss
Graced this goodbye
Another week of yerning
Of waiting cold
Being alone
A chirruping sound
Bleeding light
A message sent
Across the miles
Electronic hug
Txted kiss
But the eyes are missing
as is the smile
Soon to be reunited
Angle fly home
Once more
A week of bliss
These moments ours
But for now
A voice disembodied
And small
These whispered moments

Immerse the mind in all things
And them feed each other
Growing knowledge
Ideas forming as gently crystal growths
Spreading out from many a core
Little trees growing together
Roots and branches enmeshed
Art feeds the science and
Science feeds the art
Separate entities that touch
As distinct as the sexes
Spawning either/or
With traces of both
A kaleidoscope of changing
Inspiration
Twisting technology
from our dreams
And our nightmares

It’s St Georges Day about a dragon and a knight
About tea and cake and an fairy tail fight
So fly high the flag of red and white
Be proud and loud but loose the racist shiite
You know Anglos were once the foreign ones – right?
As was St George, killed in his persecuted flight
Remember that when you mock the immigrant’s plight
And that it’s the mix that makes for England’s might

He reckons I’m obsessed
Obsessed he says
Obsesses
Brown caffeinated liquids
Are my obsession
Warm or cold
Fizzy or flat
As long as it has caffeine
It has the knack
I need
The longing
For thick frothy coffee
You have to eat with a spoon
The wanting
Ice filled cola
Or mocha with cream
But I am not obsessed
Oh no not me
I can go for an hour
Without
Any you see
Just don’t tell him
I will beg and plead
If I am without for
More than three
Three hours
With out caffeine
And I’ll need
A grande
Via intravenous drip
Or a take away
Beaker to sip.

Trying to capture the things within
Writers shiver, Artists paint, sculptures try
But try in vain

Always nothing but a ghost or shade
Pale immitation
Like the mathimatical landscape
Reduced to notation

Symbols used to show the world
Those things in the void
Behind our eyes

It’s festival rain again! AGAIN!
Packing the tent is such a pain
When you are canvas bound
Listening to it sheeting down

Watching the little bubbles form
Before the riverlets of the storm
A constellation of crystal blooms
As we hide in this tents one room

But this structure must come down
Before the funky beats are found
The Music thumps and does pound
Dancers dance twirling round

Mud bath laughs at the main stage
No one here acts their age
How delicious and sublime
Is the ridiculous at festival time?

For age here counts not at all
Everyone will eventually act the fool
Skipping to natures beat
Dancers leaving behind wet seats

Beat out tempo with squelching feet
Eating churros salt and sweet
Listening to the sage and wise
Laughing loud untill you cry

Sighing as it’s time to go
Watching storm light begin to grow
Golden clouds make banners glow
And there the arc of the rain bow

Just a reminder to other poets that there is lots of helpful stuff over on the NaPoWriMo site.

I personally am gearing up by writing from images in an old fashion mag I’ve ended up with – some of the prompts want to be short stories though!

Having already done two poetry writing drives this year I am preparing myself for yet another poem a day challenge called National Poetry Writing Month – pretty much if there is a challenge I will take part in it 🙂

I am going for the spending 30 hrs on poetry this month rather than 30 poems a day.

As I’ve done this year with Month of Poetry and World Poetry Writing Month, I will aim to write 100 drafts or skeletons of poems this month and I have a lot of drafts unsurprisingly to edit and type up.

I would also like to do some work on The Little Book of Easter Poetry and get it moving forward.

And if there is anytime left then I would like to work on my collection The Political Converse but that is a lot to fit in 🙂

It starts tomorrow and I am also doing work on my comic book stuff this month so we shall see 🙂

And last but not least my Muse Monsters are appearing as a work shop at The Cheltenham Poetry Festival 🙂