Poetry Archive :: Blue Hour

The blue hour refers to a phase of twilight when the Sun is so far below the horizon that the light’s blue wavelengths dominate. Because the blue hour is a colloquial term, it doesn’t have an official definition similar to dawn, dusk, and the three phases of twilight.

TimeandDate.com

In other words…

The best time of day, and most evocative for lyrical expounding.

 


Blue Hour

Powder skies, pale blue
Deepen as day is ending:
Look, sunset beckons.

Briefest window: light
Scattered across atmosphere,
Blue most prominent.

Hinterland between
Day and night: moments altered
By diffused twilight.

Calm produces still,
Thoughtful consideration:
Reflect, what’s to come.

Arrival, darkness
Black illuminating; stars
Turn backdrop deeper.


Poetry Archive :: Sunset Now

Last week was significant for a lot of reasons, and felt (in places) as if I was shedding a skin. As a result everything is a little behind today: not because there was no desire to work or get up to date, but because other, more personal issues gained greater prominence.

This poem helps me over an obsession with how days begin and end, with a new, more intimate understanding of what me actually means. I can’t stop the inevitable march of time, but embracing the markers we place upon it allows less stress over the process and greater relaxation in the passing.


Sunset Now

The last stand, daylight fades:
Memories of light cascades,
Final moments of fight
Evening turning to night.

Moment, contemplation
Relive day’s sensations:
Another end begins
Unwavering, Earth spins.

No way to change outcomes
As consequence becomes
Inevitable fate;
Harsh truths grasped far too late.

Comes end, another day
Tried to find best way,
Not repeating mistakes:
Avoiding new heartaches

Sunset now granting means
Evolving past my genes:
Much better days will come
With battles conquered, won.


Ambient Noise :: Sequence


Loop, repeat beat, through feet heat bleeds
Reality recedes.
Thump heartbeat, hips replete
Shifting, twisting shifting; uplifting, rotating.
Fingers entwined, body in mine
Frisson, friction, benediction.
Risen, fell, so much to tell
Beat’s deceit, deal sealed, repealed.

Sequence demands, commands
Hands hold, boldly move, groove shifts, resists.
Move up, down back, no slack, attack.
Push both to peak, don’t speak, just feel
Notes real, treble rebels, bass haste
Reflect, plateau, ascend, climax.
Explode, relax, again, maintain
Rise with fall, best dance of all.


Poetry Archive :: Transitions

Occasionally, I get really lucky.

This poem is one of those moments.

Please enjoy something I am VERY proud of.

 


Transitions

This moment transcends inertia
Acute feelings: collide, entwine
Absorbed into the other’s skin
Belief of better sought within.

Make me the mirror of your care:
Sent light upwards towards the dawn,
Far better sunrise for each day
Coaxing belief along our way.

Exhaling negativity
Requiring only breath and hope;
Ignite joint passion without fear
Illuminate true path now clear.

Simple acceptance is required
Transitions, understanding set.
Bright sharpness, brilliant, sublime;
Redefinition comes with time.

To turn around two lives of pain
Impossible thrown out of play:
Becoming sum of diverse parts
Devotion scored on willing hearts.


Poetry Archive :: Reflections

Last week I wrote poetry on Saturday night, and it was a HUGE success. Using a Spotify relaxation playlist as a prompt, two REALLY strong poems emerged after a couple of hours work, and this gave me all of Sunday to edit at leisure. On consideration, this is a decent way of improving craft going forward. Next week, therefore, I intend to write outside (and make the most of the Spring sunshine.)

I’m really pleased with this set of Haiku. It has a depth and breadth, plus covers the initial idea which inspired it: shining light on yourself, being capable of accepting faults and shortcomings, allowing means to improve and grow. I hope this new working arrangement brings more fruitful work in the weeks that follow.


Reflections

Prism, turning slow
Refracting intent: daylight
Pierces gloom within.

Corners enlightened
Dust blown, surface cleared, reset
Re-calibrate soul.

Look outside yourself
Redemption glitters; intent
Possibility.

Each second, strengthens
Internal belief: shifting
Impetus outwards.

This life, a mirror
Penance carried: salvation
Found in reflections.


Fickle Sun

Tomorrow is May, though you’d not believe it looking out of this window. That means, it is time for a slight detour in direction, to coincide with the launch of my new digital project, Arguto.

Twilight

Your short story is an intentionally vague affair, which will only become clear with time. The two sets of YouTube selections are very much in the same vein as the Arguto ‘vibe’ which should help with the transition from one space to the next… and there will be some added extras too.

Needless to say, I’m extremely excited about Arguto, but there won’t be a letup in content here. Weekly Twitter poetry will still be archived here, as will the short stories, and this will remain the place for Novel Chat (more on that tomorrow) plus my forays into published work. The fanzine is very much a personal vanity project and with this fourth space comes the opportunity to maintain a selection of disparate spaces to serve all my literary and artistic needs.

Once we’ve launched tomorrow, there will be some back-end changes to support the alterations, and then it is full steam ahead for this new direction…

Poetry Archive :: Time’s Up

One of the first real lessons learnt in my exercise journey was that the biggest obstacle to progress is not my body. It does not matter what weight, shape or physical restrictions might lay in place to hinder progress. If your brain decides that something is doable, mind over matter really can do the job. The biggest problem, inevitably, is allowing fear to eat away at enthusiasm or motivation. That meant that on Friday night mind pushed through fatigue, sore legs and lethargy to complete a bike ride, and it will propel me to the Gym across the weekend with the knowledge that each day spent rehabilitating my left arm is a day closer to me being stronger than I was before the accident.

Sometimes, to take control of destiny, it is necessary to have a long, serious chat with your own psyche.


Time’s Up

This is notice, hear
Change of tune: no longer can
Fear be accepted.

Pack your bags, depart
Quickly: presence offending
Sensibility.

Your time has ended
Shrunk, ignored: alteration,
Fundamental shift.

Thrall severed, broken
Ticking countdown: last seconds
Toward extinction.

Time’s up, consciousness:
Release the future: not yours
To hold to ransom.


Poetry Archive :: We Are Strong

An awful lot has changed in the last seven days. My arm has come forward in leaps and bounds (if that is an acceptable metaphor for an upper limb) to the point where I was able to do tiny press-ups yesterday. The long-term goal for fitness is to not worry so much about ability going forward but to become stronger in both body and mind. That one word is my ‘beautiful’: if I feel strong, anything is possible.

This week’s micropoetry, therefore, is dedicated to my own recovery and the prize of greater gains at the end of this rehabilitation period.


We Are Strong

Whatever may be placed ahead
To fill the mind with fear and dread:
Deep strength is found to overcome
Against all odds, each battle won.

There’ll come clear moments in this life
Where opportunity beats strife:
Grasp every chance to change your game,
Keep equilibrium maintained.

Hard fortress built around the fears
Protecting heart and soul for years:
Have courage, stand and break it down,
Elect new rulers, progress crowned.

Standing in these ruined remains
No longer shackled with own chains;
Turn right around to stare outside
Exorcise fright, let wisdom guide.

Become the architect of change,
Define redemption, now arrange:
Never forget, that We are Strong
Within this future, all belong.


Poetry Archive :: Once Upon a Time

Don’t tell anyone, but this is my favourite Haiku sequence for quite some time.


Once Upon a Time

Begin this story:
Compose a joint narrative,
Write you into us.

Bright introduction,
Minimal exposition;
Straight to the sex scene.

Subtle post-coital glow
Illuminates both; sleeping
Undisturbed, happy.

Once upon a time,
We were possibility
Intimate sliver.

The tale is written,
Each coupling: strengthening
The future, writ large.


Poetry Archive :: The End

You’re seeing this much later than originally advertised, for which I apologise, as life slowly gets back to normal after my enforced layoff.  This is a largely uneven work, if I’m honest, which may well get revisited and revised as time goes on. As it transpires, however, this a decent testament to my mood as drugs didn’t work and indeed made things worse.


The End

Skipping to the last page
Predicting own demise,
Obsessed with an ending
Long before it arrives:
Life remains for living
Make better use of time,
Gift that keeps on giving
Moments stay sublime.

Healthy not to look back
Focussing on the now,
Sometimes backwards helps to
Grasp understanding how;
Why history repeats,
Mistakes made time, again;
Reorganise methods,
Conscious, against the grain.

Start to plan your next phase,
Stop worrying ‘bout time:
End arrives regardless
Out of your hands and mine.
Instants as if your last,
The mantra of each day:
Letting go of concern
Allows fears to allay.

Time is key, happiness
And with it, sense of self;
Know how mind, body work
To maintain pristine health.
Trusting soul, nothing else
Enlightenment arrives;
Let go of fear and doubt,
Consistency survives.

You’re the problem to solve
Take a long, cold hard look:
Time to move with times,
Get this brain to unhook.
Think, what would happen if
Tomorrow was the end?
Start today with the change,
Modify, habits mend.


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