Pretty Kite
injured,
trampled into salt battered stone;
lone, unloved
today’s sweepings
left for trash.
I’ll detangle your tail,
unknot your ribbons,
your strangled cord,
lay you
smiling faced neon
over sun hotted weed.
Lurch shake kite,
cloud billow fill,
wind bound loop over and above;
sun streamered dragon,
slink over sand,
euphoria blissful, revitalize.
Silence tomorrow,
Exit yesterday,
I’m living for the now,
For what I’ve here in my hands,
today.
Winning is sometimes
a stand on the podium
a victory clasp,
a medal or a cup.
But sometimes it means keeping on:
making steps, one foot and then the other;
a refusal to lay down and surrender;
to love and never give up.
Whenever I look up into the sky and see your bright beauty,
I wish I could be you,
gleaming happiness in the dark, vile regions of the night.
This month Fearne Cotton and the listeners of Radio 1 put together this encouraging manifesto to help people to stay postitive. It’s certainly puts a smile on my face – January is such a gloomy month!
What is Christmas?
A cacophony of cheesy lights and shouty decorations
to brighten December’s somberness;
sludges of gaudy wrap and sentimental greeting – card and mistle berry,
bring steep sherbet highs and transient exhilaration.
What is Christmas?
Party surplus, glitter strain,
colds heady and extreme,
bills novel fat, and a slice of familial indigestion,
winter gloom sandwiches with mean slivers of sunlight between.
Too much, Christmas!
A hamster blurring a wheel, forward and again,
pastry frilled pie and slitted roll,
prettily inscribed card and tinsel starred tree,
gifts multitudinous, from broad bottomed pockets and those in shallower vein.
Slow down, Christmas
Re-write yourself anew,
be calm, be cool, companion and confidant;
a place for us to be ourselves,
me together with you.
Original Photo: JPW
Autumn again;
sombre nights
super chill,
Dumb dense fog weaseling through mortar and wool,
Siberian sleet showers
Sadistic and cool.
Glass covered pavements;
crisp neon hillsides bristling with leaves
courageous cumulus skies,
firework patchwork
bonfire thrill
laughing leaf fest-
ival –
cut through disease, dampness and
ill,
’til the lights of glad Christmas come.
"Success is not final,
failure isn't fatal,
it's the courage to continue that really counts."
(Winston Churchill)
Hi, I'm Ru and I'm finishing my first novel, "The State of My Heart." Starguidemehome is a scrapbook diary of inspirational stuff and poetry I'm both learning from and writing along the way. I hope you find something here to encourage you.
Hey vio-let bro, sonic blurring, mind funk whirring, guitar spurring, beaux – I think I must love you; for my age, I’m too young don’t fit in my school; still I know a star when it’s earth far flung – you’ve learned me the notion of cool. Hi, lavender youth, wink me a grin. Sky spirited no limited kin, guitar guild that light […]
Gone all out demon slayer, whole self sold; sprinting surely, streaming smooth – hell bam, betrayed! No siren or notification, to re-strike, no time or to withold. On the floor, fiend fighter, vision skewing, limbs spilt wrong. Can’t uprise or self utter, can’t figure what just passed or what you should have done – to have cursed, or mere blamed, to have ran […]
This beautiful poem is a guest post by my friend Dot, who has just lost her beloved – and beautiful dog, Josh: I went to the dog’s home to get me a pet, when a pup with long legs jumped in my arms the minute we met! Oh no, not you, you’re not for me, […]
Pretty Kite injured, trampled into salt battered stone; lone, unloved today’s sweepings left for trash. I’ll detangle your tail, unknot your ribbons, your strangled cord, lay you smiling faced neon over sun hotted weed. Lurch shake kite, cloud billow fill, wind bound loop over and above; sun streamered dragon, slink over sand, euphoria blissful, revitalize.
Silence tomorrow, Exit yesterday, I’m living for the now, For what I’ve here in my hands, today.
