‘Prison’

Just started working 9-5 for the first time in a year. Hard to get back to the daily grind after book-writing and poetry. Here’s my take on Week 1, with a bit of satirical humour thrown in for good measure

 

‘Prison’

 

It feels just like a prison with no bars

Not being used to regimented ways

It appears like a facility for those

Who need some help re-positioning their days

 

With no card I’m unable to get in

I ring the bell and someone comes to help

It feels like something’s missing from the tree

The bird used whisper happy tunes each morn’

Now no-one whispers anything to me

 

Is it lunch-time yet? I try hard not to look

At the clock – the more I look the less it turns

Confusion has its place in that first week

How the hell, ever, will I learn?

 

I sit and think but sometimes I just sit

Do this, do that, in sequence every time

I sit and think but most times I’m amiss

A sour grape dying on the vine

 

Across the way the grapes are reaping wealth

Their beauty is the essence of the dream

I wish I could attend work by stealth

Nothing’s ever quite the way it seems.

Times they are a changin’

Well, well, well.

I was going to make this blog about emerging authors and how to make the most of your opportunities as a writer but I’ve erred in my mission. I posted a couple of poems of late and you guys seem to have enjoyed reading them so I thought, why not?

Why not keep it up? Why not post more? Why not treat you all to a little bit of what I’ve been up to of late? And I’ve been up to a few things of interest.

The second book is in manuscript form and I’ll drop in to post a few poems from it in the next few weeks. It’s been a real joy developing my poetry into something I think you’ll find to be a little more sophisticated than what you found in ‘Prism’. I’ve even taken to drawing. Faces.

And I’m here to tell you, don’t ever let anyone tell you ‘you can’t’. Can’t draw, can’t paint, can’t write. I used to think drawing was such a difficult task, but then I took a couple of lessons via my good friend Google and, lo and behold, the cartoonish drawings you find here accompanying my poetry have come from none other than yours truly.

See, it can be done. Even Van Gogh took a while to believe in himself.

Walk that extra mile if it means you’ll find belief, for it will set you free – and the world will truly be, colloquially speaking, your oyster.

Smile

A smile costs nothing but gives much.

It enriches those who receive without making poorer those who give.

It takes but a moment but the memory of it often lasts forever.

None is so rich or mighty that they can get along without it,

and none is so poor but that they can be made rich by it.

A smile creates happiness in the home,

fosters goodwill in business

and is nature’s best antidote for trouble.

Yet it cannot be bought, begged, borrowed or stolen,

for it is something that is of no value to anyone until it is given away.

Some people are too tired to give you a smile.

Give them one of yours, as none needs a smile so much as he who has no more to give.

Abridged version

(Author Unknown)

the path less travelled…

He rose above the helpless throng
He was only one among a crowd
He heard a calling, 'twas a song
Timely, he could not disregard

You've come to me for rationale
You've come to me for saviour
No-one else can take the stand
You've come to me, the one you favour

The steps on which we stagger
From one level to the next
Like climbing up the corporate ladder
Feeling e'er, between, betwixt

The next step up he could not see
The frond led him to the money tree
Ladder of wealth, mendacity
The pathway opened unto me

Who and what and where we were
Why and how we hit upon
Invited, I failed to confer
I took the path less travelled on

Night-time

Night-time wouldn’t show itself

Until Sunshine moved away

Like a road-way that disappears in flood

Like a child who will stray

 

Night-time hid away God knows where

Like a sock hides in a shoe

Not wanting to come out and play

Like when I played hide and seek with you

 

The pages turned as Sunshine faded

Sunset became the star

New chapter aglow, best time of day

People came from near and far

 

To hear and see the sweetness, cheer

Sunset brought to all

Listening for the climax

That would entice, enthrall

 

Sunset’s colours made the day

Surely to behold

Night-time felt alone, left out

Dark, upset, anxious, lonely, old.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

Artist's Complex

A her poet

Trish Hopkinson

A selfish poet

Helensvale Writers’ Group

Writers from the Gold Coast

Jack The Lad

About Trending news, sport, pics and videos for students, youth and anyone that cares!

johncoyote

Poetry, story and real life.

criticaldispatches.com/

Follow me on Twitter and Instagram @RichyDispatch

Ordinary Adventures

Everyday journeys of a one of a kind girl.

MELTING ICE TOWERS

SPARKLING THE CULTURE OF READING AND WRITING