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Quickfire poem: On the Internet
Mar 2nd, 2014 by Entropy

A quickfire poem. No polish, straight from the hip flask. Enjoy! Happy poetry!!

On the Internet

I live in a world of people
But sometimes I have to imagine those people because I am really only in my home alone.

I live in a world of people
And sometimes they all press in on me because I am always only in my home alone.

I live in a world of people but I forget to go out and see them because I am only ever in my home alone.

Turn it off. Go outside. See the world of people. Breathe deep. Be YOU.

‘The out from under’
Mar 1st, 2014 by Entropy

A quickfire poem – from the hip, without polish

‘The out from under’

I struggle beneath his ego
It takes up all the place
I’m pressed into the corner
The walls press on my face

I cannot seem to move
It’s getting hard to manage
He’s sitting on my head
And doing lots of damage

I’m choking in his shadow
To find the smallest chink of light
I will not give up trying
But I am too tired to fight

I don’t know who I’m fighting
Is it him or is it me?
Is this my ego bruising
Or has his begun to breed?

If he’d move over just a tiny bit
And make a little room
Then there’d be air and light and space enough
For everyone to bloom.

I’ll never win by jealousy,
Nor competing. Not by rage.
The book of me is all my own
So turn to my next page

I only win if I do not fight
And don’t give mind to trouble
It’s time to breath in my own light
And pop him like a bubble.

– a quickfire poem
By Kathie Kingsley-Hughes

‘The Tiny Me’
Mar 1st, 2014 by Entropy

A quickfire poem – from the hip, without polish

‘The Tiny Me’

There’s a little me, who I hear, who I know…

She’s very small and quiet and she doesn’t show.

But she’s wise and brave and doesn’t give in.
While I struggle and fight and can never win.

Her voice is soft and often lost
amid the daily clamour.
She doesn’t seek a word of praise, competing for the glamour.

And she carries on regardless, in her child-like playful way,
never worrying or caring if her toils see light of day.

If you care to hear her speaking, you may have to listen hard.
But first please drop all your judgements and soften up your heart.

As the outside me grows older, she doesn’t seem to age.
And the outside me gets colder, she never feels my rage.

She just plods on in darkness, not seeking the smallest chink of light, while I struggle to be noticed and fuss and fume and fight.

I wish that I could be her, if only for a minute.

And then perhaps I’d free her …
… to live beyond my limits.

A quickfire poem by Kathie Kingsley-Hughes

But Love
May 31st, 2012 by Entropy

But Love

Stepping into a new life every day,
touch is fleeting, but
love endures.

But love is just
a construct of my mind.
My only hope that it is
similarly constructed
in yours.

Attached silken bond,
binds as it winds
between us, like
a velvet hawser,
from me
to you.
And back again.

But love cannot be known.
Are you lying
as you are lying next to me?
Does silken bond bend
from heart to heart?
Or hip to hip?
Or flap free like
toilet paper
from my heel?

But love Is trust.
Is that me
trusting you,
or am I trusting me?

In The Orchard
Dec 16th, 2011 by Entropy

In The Orchard by Entropy

When I was nine
I bit a peach,
my teeth hit
sudden stone
it made me bleed
sharp iron tang
into my mouth.

The split peach stone
fell to the floor,
its chance of
beginning
new life
hardening,
forgotten.

The peach juice
mixed with
bright lip blood
dripped down
onto my chin.

I spat peach flesh
onto the ground, to
rot and mingle
with the grass.

I’ve never
tasted peach
since then,
not even in a pie,
without recalling
that blood red tang
when I was
only nine.

“Hand-Span/Brain-Pan”
May 31st, 2011 by Entropy

Hand-Span/Brain-Pan”

What is me?

As I sit, my elbows

resting on the desk,
eyes tight shut,
head-in-hand,
I am struck by
the narrow
width
of my temples
between my thumb
and forefinger.

Is this all I am?

The entirety of
my being contained
within a
hand-span?

I could live without
ear, leg, appendix,arm,
bowel, fingers, tongue,
hair, eye, tonsil, breast,
kidney, tooth, lung.
Not one of these things
is essentially
me. If it was lying
on the desk before
me, I would no more
feel that I was
there, instead of here.

Yes, there is more
to me that
keeps me living, but
all that is me thus
is contained within
my hand with
some mere warm offal,
attached.

And yet, if I had not
a hand,
if I am not
also hand,
I would not
know this;
could not
measure,
my brain-span
thus.

What is me?
Am I hand or
am I brain-pan?
Perhaps I am
both, and
neither.

 

Poem: “Tea”
May 19th, 2011 by Entropy

“Tea”

Where would I be
without that blessing,
the humble
cup of tea?
It can revive
when I am tired
and restore serenity.
And the sacred offer
to make the tea
is a ritual
in this family.

The warmth in a mug,
full of hot
sweet love,
never ceases
to amaze.
And the daughter
who makes tea
for me
is always due
some praise.

(hint, hint)

By Entropy
The §purious Collective

Poem: ‘Nothing’ #Napowrimo
Apr 30th, 2011 by Trixsey

April is National Poetry Writing Month which The §purious Collective have entered in order to write a poem a day for 30 days throughout the month of April 2011!  This poem is by Trixsey:

A poem for day 30:
Nothing

I cannot describe this man 

I try so hard

But I never will

Everyone is different

Not all people like his songs

But I do

To me

He is funny and precocious

I don’t think of him as ferocious in any way

But these words mean nothing

I try and try to choose the right bundle of letters

To choose the right setting

To exclaim my idea at the top of my voice

But no one else will understand

Only I know

Words mean nothing

No one will understand

So even my words mean nothing to me

by Trixsey

The §purious Collective

See More of our National Poetry Writing Month poems. (NaPoWriMo)

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Poem: ‘Fairy wings’ #Napowrimo
Apr 29th, 2011 by Trixsey

April is National Poetry Writing Month which The §purious Collective have entered in order to write a poem a day for 30 days throughout the month of April 2011!  This poem is by Trixsey:

A poem for day 29:
Fairy wings

Exclaim in joy

To hear the stories of these toy little pixies

In their quaint world

Where the fairest splendour will not depend on the looks

It is not the kind of attractive like in the fairy-tale books

Fairy wings

Fluttering through the trees

Fairy wings

Muttering to each other about sweet and innocent things

They jump around the room

Prancing over the cracks with their old and sooty boots

They don’t feel scared without duty

They don’t feel impaired without beauty

Fairy wings

by Trixsey

The §purious Collective

See More of our National Poetry Writing Month poems. (NaPoWriMo)

We welcome feedback. You can leave a comment below or send a message via Twitter.
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Poem: ‘Music’ #Napowrimo
Apr 29th, 2011 by Trixsey

April is National Poetry Writing Month which The §purious Collective have entered in order to write a poem a day for 30 days throughout the month of April 2011!  This poem is by Trixsey:

A poem for day 28:
Music

A gentle tick of a nearby clock

The loud clash of falling crock

The music rings in your ears

A spoon tings against a clear glass

A small flower swaying in the grass

The music rings in your ears

A piece of string tied in a small knot

A silly bird whistles a reply to the warm windy breeze

The music rings in your ears

by Trixsey

The §purious Collective

See More of our National Poetry Writing Month poems. (NaPoWriMo)

We welcome feedback. You can leave a comment below or send a message via Twitter.
Join us!
Join NaPoWriMo!

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