October Poetry Writing Month - Day 8

Day 8

Oh the sweet sweet joy of a new book!

The glossy cover,

The perfect spine,

This is a moment to be savoured.

This new tome,

Freshly plucked from shelf in shop,

Or torn from postal packaging at home.

This small book is cause for celebration,

A sort of romanticised ceremony

Of ethereal jazz and distant chatter,

Any coffee shop will do,

It really doesn't matter,

But the comfort and bliss

Of sitting and sipping,

And then the first turn of the first page

Careful not to break the binding!

Slowly, into the narrative you find yourself sliding

Minutes turn into hours...

Pages turn into chapters...

You are lost in this new world

As your cup grows cold

And the light diminishes

"Just one more page" you think, 

"I need to finish this".

And when the day is almost done

You reluctantly head for home

And when at home, It's up to bed,

To read some more, until sleep claims your head.

(C) Arietta Bryant

October 2014

October Poetry Writing Month - Day 7

Day 7

Free Bird

I see my life flashing by

But always forward must I fly

I am a bird upon the breeze

The path of least resistance please!

To be a bird would be quite a thrill

With feathered wing and chirping bill

I take flight now to ride the winds

But now I know on each dice spin

I can be the master of my life

I am more than mum and wife

I am the wise owl of the night

I can choose which way I fly

October Poetry Writing Month - Day 6

"Write!" she said...

"Write the words and they will heal you",

"Tell your story" she says, "And they will hear you".

"Go to the dark place and I'll be your light".

"I will be there for you in sorrow filled nights"

But what if the door to that place can't be closed

What If I'm lost there with memories of old

I don't want to open the door in the dark

To remember the days of a horror that's passed

I just want to be light and joy filled and happy

There are things best left hidden and wrapped up in plastic

I don't want to go to the dark place I scream

Typing so hard that my fingers might bleed

If I just keep typing and think cheerful thoughts

She won't make me go there and open that door

But for all my protesting I feel I am moving

Getting a bit closer, but unsure what I am doing

There is a door up ahead it's bolted and locked

It's covered in cobwebs and rusted up shut

But just underneath it I think I see light

Perhaps I might open it up... tonight  

October Poetry Writing Month - Day 5

Behind the Curtain

Standing in the dark behind the curtain

I wait...

Feeling the energy rising

I breathe...

Adrenalin coursing

I close my eyes...

Heart pounding In my chest

I am ready...

But in the back of my head, that nagging doubt

Why do I do this to myself?

For all that I fear it,

In these moments of quiet panic, before the lights come up

I live for the rush, the thrill

To live my art

In body, soul and heart 

October Poetry Writing Month - Day 4

Lonely in the crowd

Each day the journey is the same

Travelling with strangers with no names

Heads bent low they read their phones

Each in a bubble all alone

We don't speak or chat to others

Head phones in signals "please don't bother"

We are a nation of social networkers

Each in trapped a spidery web of isolating connections

Alone in the hustle and bustle of the world

Crowded streets where no one sees anyone

October Poetry Writing Month - Day 3

 

3rd October

Dancing with Words

When I write poetry

I like to watch the words as they fall onto the page

They seem to dance like stardust,

Slowly they settle into their right place

They squeeze themselves into pentameter and stanza

Into sentence and into rhyme

They yearn for me to use them

Each and every one

Golden nuggets brought forth

From beneath chewed pencils and smudgy pens

They leap and jump at my command

(And sometimes of their own free will)

 We - The Words and I -

Carve out our dance floor together.

Arietta Bryant (c) 03/10/14

October Poetry Writing Month - Day 2

2nd October - In the UK today is National Poetry Day and the theme is "Remember"

Remember!

Waking from dream sleep

Fractured memories I keep

They flit and fly, like darting bugs

Glowing dots in darkening fog

A metronomic tap, tap, tap

The nagging sense of almost knowing

Almost remembering

Almost forgetting

I blink and clear the sleepy haze

And with each blink so die the waves

Of hidden images and scenes

The things I see within my dreams

(C) Arietta Bryant

#octpowrimo

#thinkofapoem

#npdlive