Gagging Bill

January 30th, 2014

I gag
Chocking down bitter pills
Of make things better
By a sweep under the rug
What the public don’t know
Wont hurt them
Protesters hurt
As do charity pleas
It is for my own good
Why can’t we see
Protected
Lock it down
No room for the free
Unpredictable
No room in the new regime
In facing the needs
Of Nation
Population slaves
No rights known
Not yet bound
Expression criminalised
Punctuated with take downs
Orwellian sunrise begins

The Thread

January 28th, 2014

The thread is woven in and out
Seemingly forever, wrapped around itself
But somewhere there is a start
And somewhere, always an end

Quantum Immortality

January 27th, 2014

A lonely thing
Each fatal accident that could have been
Is not, you slip the slipstreams
Only seeing those around you go
The ones you love perish
One by one by one
Until your luck is a curse
Surviving red giant expansion
Super nova explosions
And wait for the end of a universe
That will not come
A sack of bones, an entity that is you
And not you
Decaying within itself
Longing for those long lost

Destructive Ideas

January 26th, 2014

I call the thought to me
It is blue, liquid
A monstrous worm
Larger than a high rise
It withers
It squirms
Shooting off jets
Vaporising the unworthy
Destruction always starts
With an idea

Done and Dusted

January 25th, 2014

I’ve finished the 30 hrs of poetry for this month, and have started thinking about next month. I am hoping to have the Monster Muse Poetry Pack for sale soon, they are on order so and I will probably set up a pint on demand version too.

Next month I am thinking about maybe doing stories in rhyme and verse, but not really sure about this yet.

The Art House Bristol

January 24th, 2014

Light Orb Tangle

Thursday I headed off to Bristol with the lovely Nick Short, the aim – to read poetry at the Art House. We had a little bit of trouble finding it, the Art House is a lovely little cafe with a cellar/entertainment area. There are arty pictures on the walls and yummy foods to be had.

Guitarist Rianna Art House Bristol

There were some wonderful musicians playing, I especially liked the Vampire guy though I failed to get a photo of him 🙂

Poet with funky Russian hat Art House Bristol

We bumped into an old friend from Cheltenham who had also come up and ended up in a conversation with a woman at the end who wondered why we’d come all the way to Bristol to perform. It is a weekly event at the Arts House and Bristol simply is bigger and has more to offer was the answer. Cheltenham has a great poetry scene but it is not weekly or even every night like it is in Bristol. We spoke of the poetry society and the Festival and then moved on to art in general.

Nick Short performing poetry at the Art House

I read an arch of poetry starting with a Fist Full of Nitro and ending with Star Stuff. From the individual and depressing to the optimistic future of all was the way I saw it.

Sarah Snell-Pym reading her poetry at the Art House Bristol

It was a lovely night.

Orange wicker orb

Sui

January 23rd, 2014

The razor blade ride you took
We hope flew you into the sky
You never looked back
Yet you felt regret
Your note told us so

Treated Like an Adult

January 22nd, 2014

The years weigh heavy around the eyes
But the mind still clasps the rag doll tight
Locked behind amber eyes
Simplistic thoughts cascade
In complex ways
Only unhappy when others say
As an adult only you are to be treated
And they took your doll away

Note: sadly this was a real situation, a lady who went to the handicap centre with my uncle, I remember her with her toys and then what happened when she was considered an adult and had them taken away.

MoP 2014 Complete :)

January 21st, 2014

I have 34 shiny poems some of which are being edited up for submission and some of which are being popped up on this blog for the world to enjoy. However I am still going for the 30 hours spent on poetry this month which I still have a way to go with!

So I am going to be sorting bits out on here and looking up more events and things to take part in.

Thinking

January 20th, 2014

Need the meaning, hope is fleeting.
Eating, drinking, sinking, still breathing.
On the edge seething, enveloped just thinking.