San San Poem:
She stood upon Chelsea’s streets
thinking of yesterdays ghosts
as they age like fine wine.
Stories are where her ghosts meet
to share wine and a Sunday roast
drawn on an ageing page.
Chelsea is her family’s spine
Chelsea is her stage.
Slow and steady wins the race remember the tortoise and the hare wait for the opportune moment time will get you from here to there. Regret is for those who didn't try they say it's never too late tomorrow will knock at the door today cannot wait. The early bird catches the worm but the second mouse gets the cheese a journey begins with a single step and an acorn becomes a tree. A dream you have will come true do not fear what you don't know the simplest answer is to act through action you will grow.
An A-W found poem built from Bill Bryson's 'Mother Tongue' index. Anglo-Saxon barbarian tongues cursed tablets of double entendres. Elizabethan, faggots in gravy graffiti Henry V. Identity; Johnson and Americanisms kinship finds literary masters. Meanings; natural history of our language, private language. Questions rhythms, rhymes, Shakespeare, so trust an Englishman. Universal language vulgates Westminster, Wales & Washington.
Night has fallen, the hum of electronics hover in my eyes the vroom of weary cars sigh in urban driveways the crickets begin a creekside melody amidst the whooshing of a passing 747 as I lie here my heart thumping my stomach gurgling my throat scratching my eyes tearing my insides screaming. I'll wake up properly tomorrow.
In darkest London all that is solid melts into air the greatest mysteries of the modern world fall into the electric mist of hunger games and fairy tales. Time travellers made in America are catching fire in a restaurant at the end of the universe. Prompt: Write a “book spine” poem. This involves taking a look at your bookshelves, and writing down titles in order (or rearranging the titles) to create a poem.
If you are a serial singleton and you dance to a spinsters sound then February most of all is the cruellest month around. Society turns to the brightest red raining chocolate and jewellery everyone has a lobster well, except people like me. They'll link their fingers and profess their love hog all the good eateries cock their head and ask out loud Is there something wrong with thee? Because in the month of February when society is pairing some of us are all alone and have lost all sense of caring.
I'm the girl who dreams of sunshine but loves dancing in the rain I fight the fight, just to feel fine it's a battle inside my brain. I found you at Seattle Grace I bonded with dark and twisty and now I have a scandalous face and a book that's rather witty. The words you wrote spoke to my soul I spent a long time in fear you've inspired me to reach my goals, I'm going to say YES this year! I wish I'd been on that kitchen shelf and heard the tales you had to tell I imagine even a christmas elf would have been enchanted by your spell. So, THANK YOU for being you and thank you for Mer and Olivia through them I've learnt some truths or at least some good trivia! Shonda, I am totes addicted I HAVE to hear your words There's no way I could have predicted how your work has changed my world.
You are the needle to my thread
You are my greatest mystery
You are the voice inside my head
You are the co-author to my story.
You see me where I’m standing
You keep me on my feet
You hear me when I’m whispering
You narrate our lives in tweets
We dance like no ones watching
We sing to the highest note
We laugh until we’re crying
We wrote a book of silly quotes
I’m thankful that I met you
I’m thankful you’re my friend
I’ll never ever forget you
ours is a story, without an end.
I started writing this weeks ago for R U Okay Day but forgot to post as I got distracted with life. But here it is. Better late than never…
there is
thunder
in my thoughts
this enemy
has been caught
today
my attention
shorts
as a silver lining
is sought
the curtains veil
my weary eyes
this lead weight smile
my only disguise
people keep asking
why?
It is what it is.
Sigh.
Every day my thoughts
climb this wall
heeding to the worldly call
A soldier must never fall
Every day, the same old game
screaming silently in mental pain
the heart is beating
the lungs are breathing
but the thoughts want to blame
and escape
the suffocating shame
of the toxic enemy
haunting this brain.
Charlie Ann Alford 
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