Came across this poem today while reading, The Everyday Poet- Poems to Live By Edited by Deborah Alma.  All of us have things in our lives that remain incomplete, unfinished, that we just don't quite seem to get around too. These become our 'one day' things. We attach the best intentions to these things, but they just slip by. I think the poet, Jann Kaplinski captures the very essence of this aspect of the human condition. We all have things we just never quite get around to doing. Some happen on a daily basis, while others seem to get deferred somewhat longer. I find it most gratifying when poets write about those small moments in life and elevate them in ways that make them worthy of the reader's attention. Enjoy... THE WASHING NEVER GETS DONE . . . The washing never gets done. The furnace never gets heated. Books never get read. Life is never completed. Life is like a ball which one must continually catch and hit so that it won't fall. When the f...

Sometimes a poet feels the need to raise a voice, make a statement, or a stand. Sometimes the events of the world prompt and provoke a response. In 2016, the world has experienced a lot of social and political uncertainty. Think about the US election of Donald Trump as President, the Brexit movement in the United Kingdom, the growth of fake news stories and the emboldened stance of xenophobes and racists in many countries.  It is with such matters in mind that I am writing today. In a world where shallow news reporting is increasingly relied upon, it is important to be an educated consumer of information. Social media displays both positive and negative attributes.We must afford it due diligence, use it wisely.  We must be willing to learn, grow and reflect. We must learn to filter information and question sources. Blind acceptance is dangerous. Is my poem a rant?  Am I taking a stance? You decide, dear reader. We write for different purposes.  ...

P LACES and P OETRY A discussion over dinner with friends landed on the topic of visiting Venice. All present had been fortunate to visit this unique city in Northern Italy at least once. A few days later still mulling over my memories of Venice, I recalled sitting in Campo Santa Margherita and observing the scene across the piazza that morning. The poet within heard the call and my notebook collected these words. Poetry among other things is about recalling memories. Italian Cafe Scene I sit here Outside a Venetian cafe The chairs face the piazza European style Slowly sipping an overpriced cappuccino  The faces of people passing reveal secrets My gaze shifts to ancient buildings bordering the square I imagine the view from windows and balconies Sitting here Outside a Venetian cafe The snakes in my head And the mad cats clawing the inside of my belly Vanish Overwhelmed by the allure of tranquility And the beauty Of this morning

Welcome young poets! Here for your information and entertainment is a short video about my brand new poetry book, I Bet There's No Broccoli On The Moon. Just click on the link below and it will take you directly to the poetry zone!  A short video about my latest POETRY BOOK!

BOOK RELEASE YEAH! I am so pleased to announce the release of my new poetry book, I Bet There's No Broccoli On The Moon -More Poetry From the Search Zone. This anthology of poems follows on from my first collection of poems, the successful,  Searching For Hen's Teeth. You can order my book on line or simply walk into your local bookstore and ask the kind person serving you to order it in for you. Either way, I hope you enjoy it and the words reach your poet's heart. Here is a taste, a morsel to whet your appetite for more poetry. Hope you like it. Hope you want more... YESTERDAY Yesterday, I knew who my enemies were. I knew where they lived. I knew not to go there. Yesterday, I knew where to play on the school ground And that football was my favourite game in the whole wide world. Yesterday, I knew how disgusting it was to eat sheep brains And broccoli. And oysters. Yesterday, I could fly a kite, Keep a secre...

S ounds L ike P oetry I love the sound of poetry. As a poet I consciously play with sounds. As well as reading poetry with our eyes, we must read it with our ears. In other words, listen to the sound the words create. Sounds of words and sounds within words attract my attention when I am writing a poem. I repeat sounds in the hope of  attracting the ear of my readers. I want the sounds I have selected to be noticed and noted. The reader's mind is the destination for my sound bytes. I may repeat a consonant at the beginning of certain words to create ALLITERATION. In this extract from 'Simply A Walk In the Park, I wrote  the line containing several words beginning with the consonant 'b.':  A large wooly dog barks boldly at the butterflies In  the poem Jeffrey the Jellyfish' I have used lots of alliterative combinations. Jeffrey was a jellyfish A rather jolly jellyfish He floated freely in the sea Bobbing and bouncing happily Here is another exam...

Poets Use ALLUSION A poet uses allusion when the words in a poem they have written make a clear connection to another poem or story. The poet may use this device to honour the earlier piece, or it may be used in order to create a humourous effect.   In the poem posted below, 'Homework Haunts Hamlet', I have quite deliberately employed allusion.  I have linked the vexing issue of homework to the famous soliloquy (spoken monologue from a play) from William Shakespeare's play, Hamlet. I am attempting to inject a touch of humour into an otherwise concerning matter.    'Homework Haunts Hamlet' appears in my latest book, I Bet There's No Broccoli On The Moon.  Homework Haunts Hamlet To do or not to do? That is the question. Whether ’tis nobler on the mind To suffer the slings and arrows of outraged parents and teachers And engage willingly in work avoidance, To look away from homework And towards fun and merriment. To do or not ...

Poets not only write poetry, they also read poetry. In order to be able to write poetry, one must read it. Lots of poetry in fact...  I want to share a short little poem by Valerie Worth. I bought Valerie's book, 'All The Small Poems And Fourteen More,' while living and working in New York, some time back. It remains a personal favourite.  I love the way the poet shines a special light on everyday objects, transforming them into something unique and worthy of attention. Her close observations elevate her poems into the special category.  Each poem in the collection celebrates earthly wonders. From eggs to garbage, from potatoes to pockets, each object is given special attention in the form of short poems employing keen observations.  Valerie Worth demonstrates through her poems she totally understands the saying-'ideas exist in things.'  The poem I have chosen to share with you (one of my personal favourites) is titled, 'Safety Pin'. S af...

I love it when the words come calling. What a buzz. This poem is about those thoughts and ideas that rock'n' roll around in the brain before the words splash out onto the page.  I found myself absorbed with rehearsing my words for over a week before I was actually able to share the words with my notebook. They entertained me. They challenged me. They puzzled me. In the end they made me feel poetically pleased. I have reworked the words here. This poem is essentially about the birth of a poem. Poembrew   A poem is brewing in my brain. In the far reaches of thought and contemplation Words assemble in ones and twos Clusters and battalions. Sweet lines with potent phrasing Float on the horizon of possibility Inviting attention. A poem is brewing in my brain Words clang, collide and collude Jostling for best position. A song of composition Rises gradually across days and nights Bringing with it rhyme and reason As the focus sharpens. A...

It is meant to be spring, but it still feels like winter! Winter refuses to leave. A lingering season, grinning at our discomfort. Hence, this little poem. Brrr... Chilly Winds Out There Winter grins Chilly winds Teeth are all a'chatter Rug up tight Fading light Falling leaves All scatter. Winter grins Chilly winds Icy gales blow Step around Muddy ground Everywhere I go . Winter grins Chilly winds Clouds gather in a cluster Lightning flashes Thunder crashes Tis' a menacing southerly buster. Winter grins Chilly winds Race to beat the storm Shut the door Against the roar Inside, safe and warm. Alan j Wright

Poets sometimes like to play around with structure and shape. And because it is #Poetry Friday, I decided to play around with some poetry structures. It was at this point I found myself aware of poetry's connection to mathematics. I began to think of a structure involving a word pattern that went: First line -3 words Second line- 2 words Third line - 1 word Fourth line -1 word Fifth line - 2 words Sixth line - 3 words So the pattern went like this: 3,2,1,1,2,3. The poem is dependent on word count per line, not syllables. I'm really not sure what to call this poetic structure. Maybe, I could call them Flip Poems. If anybody has used this structure before and knows exactly what it is called, kindly let me know. My research has so far not turned up anything to suggest these poems have a given name. Here are a couple of examples from my notebook. In the morning Magpies carol Joyfully This Daily birdsong Warms my hear...

Sometimes a poet can be inspired by a smell, an aroma. That smell can be sweet and cloying or it can be putrefying and decaying, like stinky shoes. The poet may have a nose attuned to noticing particular smells. Our senses are a wonderful thing to call upon when writing. This poem is dedicated to all those stinkers who think it's cool to torture our nostrils with their foul smelling  fishies  in tins. If it smells that bad, surely it doesn't deserve to be eaten. SANDRA'S LUNCH Just what lurks in Sandra's lunch? Munch and crunch! Munch and crunch! Just what lurks in Sandra's lunch? Do you want to know? I think I have certain hunch Just what lurks in Sandra's lunch I think I have a certain hunch Do you want to know? Well, yesterday was curried egg Curried egg Curried egg Yesterday was curried egg The day before salami The things you find in Sandra's lunch Are enough to drive you barmy! One day, her lunch I tell yo...

Sneaker Look Poem Today, I decided to read a poem. It's one I prepared a little earlier. I share with you a poem from Seaching For Hen's Teeth- Poetry From The Search Zone.  It's a poem about an old pair of sneakers... 

So only an egg head would write a poem about eggs you say. Well, I think it's all white ...That was just a yolk!  I think I'd better stop before my thoughts become scrambled. Here's a bit of word play. Can you guess what I had for lunch today? EGGCENTRIC Egbert was an all round good egg Sitting snugly in a supermarket carton All white All right And when the lid was down - Out of sight But then his life became eggstremely EGGCITING... He became an all round egg In an all round hand Bopped against a frying pan By a giant of a man His head was dented His shell fragmented He oozed and wriggled He popped and cried He was flattened Flipped, - And finally fried He was bruised Abused And far from amused He was flat out in the pan, man EGGSACTLY! Alan j Wright