Poetry in eMotion

Poetic society for all active poetry lovers

Come What May

Sid – the humping Seagull

Gazing at the wonder of the skies,
Powderpuff clouds drift silently by.
Almost at once distracted am I,
By rhythmic, resounding, erratic cries.
Such is the hubbub, of a birds demise.

Perched precarious, upon his prey,
Fiendish behaviour, promiscuity.
Such is the like of, ‘Sid’s’, debauchery.
‘Humping Seagulls – come what may.

Breda Ware

Come What May

Dear Poets,

our May 2020 topic is “Come what May”. We look forward to reading your poetry.

Marie, Adam and Jarek

Masquerade

Masquerade

Mysterious faces hidden behind veils.

A

Silhouette, not tortilla flat, but hills just begging to be won,

Quarantined in clothes that’d better come

Undone.

Eyes wide smiled,

Raw look, but…

A love bite – how would it be from what’s under the mask?

Dare ask? No.

Emotions masked.

Mysterious faces hidden behind veils.

A

Silhouette, not tortilla flat, but hills just begging to be won,

Quarantined in clothes that’d better come

Undone.

Eyes wide smiled.

Raw look, but…

A love bite – how would it be from what’s under the mask?

I never

Dare ask.

Masquerade

You the abusers, you know who you are,
With your multi million homes,
Driving top of the range, expensive cars.
Well to do toff’s, habitually spend,
Berating others, with your ‘yuppie friends’.
Narcissistic, know all’s,
You think your the best.
Egotistic, morons, give it a rest!
Animus towards others, less fortunate than you,
Revile them as low life – your ‘golden rule’,
‘Keeping up appearances’ – with kindness,
Such is your disguise.
While animosity shows in your eyes.


Breda Ware.

Masquerade – our April 2020 topic

Dear Poets,

as we’ve been through very special times these days… we decided to offer a corresponding topic. Let’s try to write poems on the topic of Masquerade.

Stay well, take care and let’s hope it’s over soon.

We look forward to hearing from you.

Marie, Adam and Jarek

Black

Seducing nocturnal

Darkness

Infernal

Caress

Angelic demon jailed

The guard failed

I stole the key

To set you free

And let your flower reign.

I’ll be the rain.

Color(s) of Feruary 20, 2020

Dear Poets,

after some time we are back with a new topic called Color(s) of February 20, 2020. In other words, please share a poem inspired by a color / colors. We look forward to reading your colorful poetry.

Marie, Adam and Jarek

Stolen from the Shore by Tessa Thomson

A woman stood beside the sea, a dear child at her side,
I watched them as they gazed, from side to side and wide.
Their gazes fell around the shore but no one could they see,
But then they caught my watchful eye and caste a glance at me.

I turned to see if there might be a person at my back,
I looked along the sandy path and up the roadside track.
But there was no one I could see that looked a part of them,
No other person man or boy to hold their gaze and then,

I turned again towards the sea, but now the strand was clear.
No longer stood the woman and child held so dear.
I searched the sea and rolling foam; the waves that crashed on shore,
The pair who stood alone that day were gone forever more.

Many years have passed since then and many walks I’ve had,
Along that beach and on that strand, and often I’ve been sad
To wonder if I saw things right or did my eyes play tricks,
For surely it was the not the pair passing o’er the Styx.

Should I have questioned why they stood so lonely and forlorn?
Should I have wondered why the world held nought for them to mourn?
Or was it me imagining that I could be like them,
With death and thoughts of afterlife tugging at my hem.

Did that same mother and her child feel life could not be borne?
Did something happen in their lives from which their hearts were torn?
Did friends release them from their love and caste them both aside,
If so I understand that loss, and the wishing then to hide.

For I have stood in that same place and wondered what could be,
What did my life accomplish; what good was there to see.
What friends will praise my legacy after I am gone?
To tell the tales of how I lived and where my life went wrong.

But I shall live a few more years and count my blessings now,
Not take to swimming in the depths of life’s despairing jowls.
But think upon that mother and the dear child at her side,
And bless that sight for giving me a reason not to hide.

Open All Hours

Your house with doors of English Oak,
Handcrafted lovingly, bespoke,
Lay open wide for all dear folk.

Light a candle for those present or past,
Feorgiveness in your heart will surely last.
Give support for those you love,
With the knowledge, strength comes from above.

Breda Ware

Love(s) Lost, Love(s) Found – “Unfinished” – 1994 – adapted, extended

1994

Love(s) Lost

“Love? Two hairpins

On the bottom

Of my backpack’s pocket.”

Karel Kryl: Zbraně pro Erató (free translation)

Love? A sense

Of perfume

Of a leather jacket.

Love? A picture

Of a snowy

Mountain peak.

Love? A chalet

In a snowstorm

Won’t last a week.

Love? The first kiss

In the school hall

Goodbye.

Love? A letter abyss

A farewell

No try.

Love? Confusion

Desire less

Uncertainty.

Love? Illusion

Nothingness

Vanity.

Love? The sound

Of words

Unspoken.

Love? The wings

Of birds

Got broken.

Love? Two hands

That touched

In the forest.

Love? Just a shadow

Of an innocent

White wrist.

Love? A gap ‘tween

The audience

And the stage.

Love? A poem

From the Diary’s

Last page.

2019

Love(s) Found

(quarter of a century later)

Love? A lover

A companion

And a friend.

Love? A relationship

You wish would

Never end.

Love? Two little

Suns calling

You father.

Love? Boys,

The best girl of all

Is your mother.

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