Tag Archive | poetry

New Poem – The First Word

Now the summer holidays have come I am tasking myself with writing for at least ten minutes each day so I can get something out before the end of August. Sometimes I find, like most writers, that I just need to get the first word right to allow my writing to flow. I know what I want to put down but cannot always start. For some reason today I felt like writing a poem and thought this writing conundrum was a worthy topic. Unlike the ideas behind the poem the actual writing of the poem flowed and I was able to produce it quickly. I tried to get symbolism in there rather than focusing on rhyming like I have with most of my other poems, you can not only tell this by the metaphors but the fact it does not rhyme at all! For once I feel like I did a good job and am rather proud of myself, a little bit smug you could say! You can read the poem on wattpad or take a gander below…

 

The First Word

Shaking, trembling, the perspiration falls

I have so much to say

So much to give to the world

Like a torrid ocean my mind swirls

I know where this will go

I just need to find its hand

So I can lead it to its destination

But alas it blocks my path

My kryptonite

My achilles heel

My dark side

My temptation

My inner demon

A vast land stretches before me

But I am stuck behind a wall

Peering through the bars of a gate

If only I could get the key

Turn the lock and be allowed to run free

I look, I stare but all is bare

As I fumble in the undergrowth

I find what I am looking for

Cold metal on my sweaty palms

But there are more and more

Some copper

Some plastic

Some card shaped

But which is right for me?

The land changes as I move each one close to the gate

It turns to fire, then ice, then sand

All will work, but only one is right

Which I pick could shape my destiny

Keep me flowing through this land

Carving out a channel through the rolling hills

Until the next wall appears and I must choose again

I use the first key I saw

Poke a toe out, the grass feels rough

It is like thorns pressing into my foot

I pull back in pain

Maybe the plastic one will do

I try again but this time I feel water

It is cold, ice cold but does not feel bad

What is that? Swimming there?

Sharp teeth, dark eyes, wide jaws

I retreat again, to the safety of this place

Behind the wall, waiting for the inspiration to come

Waiting for the right choice to be made

I search some more, there are keys

Keys everywhere

Some hang from trees, pretty and ornate

Some are deep in the ground, covered in dirt

Some give an aura of hope

Some tell of despair

And so this will go on and on

Find a key, try the lock

Taste the air and feel the ground

I will keep going

For minutes

For hours

For days

I will find the right path

I will be able to run free

But I cannot think of that now

Now I need to hunt

Now I need to search

Now I need to find my first word

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Bad Poetry (+a love poem)

Bad Poetry Cover BLOG

My first poetry book will be updated whenever I write a poem

Every now and then I write a poem, I did a few as part of World Cup Dreams but have also posted some on this blog. The other day I was working when I heard some students in an English lesson discussing love poems they were writing for their coursework. I thought, ‘you know I could write a love poem, but not one of those mushy ones, a real one about what love really is.’ So a little time later I wrote a poem about what love is not, in fact that is what I have entitled it. I have often thought of putting my poems into one book but never had enough to collate them. Then I remembered Wattpad, I tend to not use it anymore as I find it is mainly teenage girl’s fantasies and fan fiction but it is the perfect place to slowly update a book before it can be formatted for Smashwords when complete. I really don’t understand poetry and I feel I am terrible at it but I do like rhyming and getting some quick thoughts and opinions out on paper so I do enjoy writing the odd poem. I have had the title ‘Bad Poetry you probably never want to read’ in my head for a while so have used this. I know it is rather self-deprecating but I honestly don’t think I am good at poetry, also there is no common thread throughout my poems so no other title seemed to fit. I even made a horrible brown cover to make it look less enticing and like a bad 1960s self help book.

 

Anyway, the book is now up on Wattpad, I can’t say I will update it regularly but whenever I write a poem it will be up there. Please note that I will not be including the poems from World Cup Dreams. Have a look and tell me what you think. In other news, I have been writing more of my Movember story so that should be out before the end of the year (hopefully long before!). It will be free as Movember has been and gone but I have enjoyed writing it and I am hoping you will enjoy reading it.

Depression rises when the football season finishes

Apparently research (I don’t know where from?) reveals that football fans suffer withdrawal symptoms and depression over summers when there are no World Cups or European Championships. One of my friends recently stated, out of the blue, “life’s rubbish without football!” Whilst they clearly exaggerated that statement I do feel some part of it to be true. Us fans follow football like a religion, the stadium is one of our temples of worship. Yes it sounds sad but it is actually true. I have heard Christian Ministers say “no-one understands the world like believers,” and whilst I think there is no way to quantify this and thus is a load of rubbish there is something true in this about football fans. I would change the word understands to feels. People can understand a religion inside and out but do not necessarily have the same feeling. So it is with football, you can know all the rules, understand key strategies, learn how the players play but I don’t think you have the same feel for the game unless you are a fan. That said I may be wrong, I am looking at this from a fans point of view. Anyhow, a boring little anecdote for you now, I had set about one Saturday afternoon to do some gardening and though it would be fine as I could pop my headphones in my ears, get up the BBC iPlayer Radio app and get all the latest action. But the season is over. The blues started to hit me straight away. I usually check football news first thing in the morning to see if there is any transfer gossip or issues at a club, but whilst there is a bit it all seems rather dead. In a way I feel slightly empty. It is hard to explain the feeling to someone who thinks it is just a bunch of men acting like toddlers kicking a piece of pig round a field (ok I agree they act like toddlers!). This feeling led me to think about writing, a lot of people I know who write try their hand at the odd poem. I must admit, poetry is not something I overly enjoy but to expand my repertoire I thought I would have a go. I might do some more and pop it on Wattpad but for now here is a free poem about my summer feelings when football finishes. Be warned, it is terrible (that’s why I am giving it away free, no-one in their right mind would buy this!). Anyhow, enjoy…

As the cheers die down

by Chris Harvey

As the cheers die down

As the whistle is blown

As the ball bounces out

And the players depart

Like the roar in my ears

A small part of me dies

Silence in the stadium

Silence in my soul

No longer shall I stop

No longer shall I wonder

When doing the housework

When dragged out shopping

This device in my hand

This jack of all trades

No longer gets the attention

The attention my heart craves

It may be summer outside

But here I feel lost

For it is an odd year

No international lust

I am left to gossip

Reading headlines and web spaces

“Are they getting him?

Surely he won’t go there?

Please buy someone

Please don’t go”

Electronic versions

Of real life folk

Is all the contact I have

With the love of my life

I’ve won all the cups

I have all the trophies

But they are just pixels

No cold metal to touch

And they just add a score

Another achievement

I’ve unlock all the secrets

But no-one cheers for me

As the days go by

I count, like it’s Christmas

For it is my present

The escape that I need

Then there is it

The days are still light

I turn on the TV

Late in the night

They have pulled on the shirt

They run round the field

My passion is back

My religion rekindled

And the cheers have arisen

Louder than ever

The false hope is alight

We can do it this year

It is just like rebirth

Like a brand new beginning

A shiny new kit

Costing more than it’s worth

But I will pay the price

I will chant the chants

I will cheer with pride

And watch them fail again