Fox on a Boat

Attempt at a triolet, a form which I find difficult but want to be better at. Prompt here . The mountains stretch across the land The river's mouth amongst the clouds I wish that I could understand The mountains. Stretch across the land, Blue mountains upon where you stand, Safe from the problems and the crowds. The mountains stretch. Across the land, The river's mouth, amongst the clouds.

Used this prompt  again. I love languages, so this prompt appeals to me! 違い Auttakaa minua! I cannot travel This road alone. Regarde le ciel. Grey like the eyes Of your long-lost friend. Så sorgligt. Vieni con me To the land of secrets Behind the  sléibhte. There, I know, Hides your truth. Perhaps even the door of حب

For this poem I used the ' erasure' prompt from NaPo. Can you guess which poem I used?  Erasure Breeding lilacs, mixing Memory with spring rain. Covering life with A shower of sunlight And coffee. Children out on a sled, frightened In the mountains. You cannot say where the sun beats the dry stone. There is something different from Your shadow at morning Or at evening, rising in a handful of dust.            Hyacinths Speak, and knew nothing.  Light, silence.     Cold pearls I do not find   Under the fog  In your garden. Poem used: ' The Wasteland ' by T.S. Eliot. 

A silly poem inspired by Absolute Radio's task of the night: Replace a word of a song with 'pillow'. I did it with a poem..  I Wandered Lonely As A Pillow I wandered lonely as a pillow That floats upon the bouncy sheets, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of soft and squishy cushions. Beside the bed, against the wall A pile of them, a pile so tall. I wandered lonely as a pillow Amongst a crowd and pile of cushions.

Shared with Poets United Attempt at a prose poem. Ireland, again.. Blue mountains spread in the distance, a place where the keys are hiding. Silently I watch them. They stretch under the sun and under rolling clouds, puffed with pride. There I feel your presence would be felt, and I wish I could travel the earthy paths too, smelling the Fresh grassy air and touching skies. I'd pick a wildflower and examine it in my palm. I'd let the wind tangle my hair. I couldn't go, though, and it remains a mystery to me, much information waiting to be uncovered. I couldn't fix it, yet.

Today I came back from my weekend in Ireland. I hope to get a few more poems from that experience, but here is one for now. Éire, we're here, breathing  Cobalt breeze. The mountains Stretch under the sun. Sléibhte Chill Mhantáin. Sun in our eyes as we Drive to our temporary homes. The streets are quiet - Sound of wind.  Wicklow peeking behind rows Of tidy silent houses.

A little bit of fun.. Well, it's slightly strange humour! This Is Just To Say This is just to say I did not miss you  One little bit When you were away. Actually, we had a party And your dog was invited.

I am not sure what I did here.. Even my own poetry mystifies me! Shared with Poets United -- Poem For The Broken Hearted I'm writing poetry and thinking of you. Sometimes I see you around the river Until you fade away - a memory. I liked your hair tonight You always look great, I'm not just saying that. I see you in touches of blue I feel then things will be better Honestly, I'm nearly crazy - You were always right - So now I just wait - Wait, wait for what? For now I'll just remember These months won't last forever And I long for the summer. I'll meet you in the sunshine Between cups of tea and drinks Amongst trees and in the dusty streets. When we walk and walk and The day seems to last forever - A lazy evening, and then - September. It was then that we braved the river The air was warm - an Indian summer. The streets are marked by you The poems carry a line A mark, a voice of you. It...

"Choose a word or phrase you find yourself saying often (e.g. like, totally, hate, really, kind of) and write a poem using it as much as possible" - Prompt found here Ridiculous. It's, like, really ridiculous. Really ridiculous like, really. Isn't it? Isn't it ridiculous, really? I like that, really I like it, though It's really ridiculous like, really I really mean it, really I do I like ridiculous, really.

I was in a bookshop earlier today and read a bit of a book about writing poetry. The author suggested to write only 50 words , and then turn them into a poem. So I tried this tonight. She hides In a quiet corner of the Poetry Library, gathering Her thoughts As the wind blows across the river And the orchestra plays nearby. People mill about but she is well hidden, Sitting on a red cushion in the corner. Safe and warm Whilst the music washes over her.

Prompt found here I Am The Hockey Puck I am the hockey puck You whack across the rink. I slide gracefully yet Forcefully. I am the small object Without which no Game could be won. I am the puck which Sailed past the goalie's knee Right into the net. You can thank me later.

Used no prompt, had no idea what the poem would be about till I wrote it. Experiment. I hope this sparks ideas for 'real', good poetry in the next few months. When A Door Closes A Window Breaks Lost keys Found under floorboards. Window is broken Handle is stuck - Open a door instead. Behind the pane I  See blue. No access. Through the door I go Too slow - Nobody there just Dusty paths. I'll just walk on till We meet.

Trying to catch up a bit by forgetting about perfectionism as much as possible.. Used this prompt. In Case of Over-thinking Open a door or a window Or both. Smell the air - Can you hear the birds? Walk to the bathroom Turn off all taps - That is your mind. Turn it all off. Call her. I mean it. Tell her now not just Up there in your head. Or write it out. Your call. If all else fails? I don't know. I'll think about it.

Today's prompt is from the PAD challenge . Don't Paint This Black Why do clouds stay so long in the sky When the sun could come out instead? Why does this phone stay so silent When you could be calling it instead? What is this feeling I have, so intense? Where does this pain come from, Why won't it go? You should be there tonight Through the lens and on the screens You should hear me tonight In the tubes and under the boards But the presence I hope for Does not appear or even seem to Exist. Ridiculous; This colour I feel. It's not even black it's not even grey It's bright and it's yellow and orange And sometimes a bit brown I'll admit. Searing. Like hot flashes on a poker. Malleable metal.  So please, do what you do best and Re-shape me before I grow cold.

OK, I have no idea what just happened here. This was a little 'stream of consciousness' style.. I followed this prompt and wrote this poem whilst doing something else. Hey there's probably some meaning in there anyway! Inner Thoughts of a Writer  Massive rooms all around Two dogs sit in the kitchen One is black one is grey. Don't cry tonight Don't you cry, Hold on to that thought Little girl, tonight. Huge bridges around us The water's grey and brown Very cold, very deep But the sky is clear  The air is brisk Feel the calm.

For this poem I've actually used day seven's prompt from NaPoWriMo. Untitled This is going to be fixed. Listen carefully, take notes. You'll get out of this. There's no 'hopefully', it's true. No more cast down looks. Chin up and get to work. Can't you see it's your battle?

This poem is from The Poetry School 's prompt of the day: Use the N+3 rule to rewrite a poem. I used this site to generate my N+3 poem. I'll be writing another day 8 poem since this one is mostly for fun. Perhaps Not All Is Over  Empty slough screens messy ploughman  Silent mouthwash from angered zap  Broken heartbreak, from the start -  Get too close, you lose.  No use, not for us.

My attempt at a sevenling, following this  prompt . Down the valley We found you, A bird and a flute. Singing by the river By the willow trees and Fields of magnolias. I woke up too quickly.

Poem six is based on this prompt. These Things They Say I'm fine. I won't be long now I've Just left the house I'm On my way I'm In the bus and Nearly there. I'm Stuck in traffic and the Road is blocked I Feel so tired and Am so stressed my Boss is a jerk and My kids are a pain I Hate this place. I Need a holiday I'll Start eating healthy and Get to the gym I'm Starting a new hobby.. Poetry, maybe?

Finally, here is day five's poem. Five lines of five words. Perhaps Not All Is Over Empty slot screams messy plot Silent mouth from angered youth Broken heart, from the start - Get too close, you lose. No use, not for us.

From NaPoWriMo's prompt four . From an Iain M. Banks spaceship name.. Lightly Seared on the Reality Grill I've been lightly seared On the reality grill again. Last night that was but Still I feel the pain and heat. Oh, the reality grill Leaves angry tiger stripes On what was once unperturbed skin. Lightly seared, I was -lightly, yes - but oh!  So many times seared On the reality grill. How stupid of me - I never learn - End up again on that grill Ended up on that reality grill again When, again, last night I spoke and Then, again - hope died.. Without hope I was left On the reality grill again. Lightly seared. Heavily scarred.

Poem four will come a little later.. This poem is #3 and is from this site's prompt no.4. Walk Away Sometimes when it's raining, When it's cold and no one's there.. Sometimes when you feel The pain, anguish or fear, Those hard times when Someone is no longer there.. Sometimes you just have to walk away. Sometimes you just have to fade away. When it's raining and you're cold, When you see that someone leave, Sometimes when it hurts, But there's nothing you can do.. Sometimes you just have to walk away. Sometimes you let them walk away. Sometimes you can only hope They'll walk back.

A few days ago I bought myself a nice new watercolour box - I do prefer that to the tubes, plus it's portable! I'm sort of getting back into watercolour - haven't really used it in a long time as I was using acrylics during college - so I've only painted a few easy scenes to try out some techniques. The trees were painted following a youtube video tutorial. Blue Cat Trees in a Poppy Field  Summer Tree All images  ©  Kerridwen. Do not use without permission

I'm slightly behind already, but here are my poems for day one and two of the April poem a day challenge. The first one is from a prompt called 'on the couch' which I found over here . (It's actually day 2's prompt but I'm sure no one will mind!) On the Couch I'm on the couch Again, same old. Shadows lengthen, Night time again. Sitting on this Couch again, same old. Road traffic: my only Soundtrack. I should get up, Shut the blinds, Turn on a light. Instead I sit On the couch again, Just like yesterday and before that - I think - I think It's Tuesday now. If I sit long enough Maybe you will join me On the couch, again. Poem two is from NaPoWriMo's day 2 prompt. Vancouver Oh, it's a cold night tonight Alone here in Vancouver. That's right - I'm in Canada. That's the East Coast for you Useless school dropouts. Yeah I'm in Canada tonight, You know, home of the Ei...

April has rolled around again so fast, and it's a month for poetry in the USA and Canada.. But even though I live in the UK, I'm still going to make this a poetry month. Last year I attempted to write a poem a day for April, following various forms I learnt about via another website. Those who follow my blog might remember that I didn't quite manage to write a poem each day, but I did manage to learn a few new forms so I was quite satisfied. This year, I shall attempt the same thing. A poem a day, experimenting with different subjects and forms as suggested by various blogs and websites. I hope to learn a few things with experimentation. It will be mostly quantity over quality, though I will try my best to retain some quality!! I've also had an idea for a poem sitting in my mind for a little while, so hopefully I'll find a nice, suitable form for it this month. If any of you out there are writing poetry this month, please let me know and if you blog about it, se...