Saturday, 17 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (16): This man

Hi! Here is yesterday's poem. I was out with friends, drinking ale and by the time I got home, it did not compute to open my laptop, so I wrote it in my notebook to type up later! If it's all a bit weird, I blame the ale! :)


This man

He knows not what he thinks
This man
This sad man

He knows not how to go on
This man
This lost man

Unable to go forward
He waits
Unable to go back

Stuck in stasis
He cannot end
What never began

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Thursday, 15 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (15): His dark places (The Fall)

I'm still watching The Fall! Wasn't sure about the main character, but she's growing on me. Just watched episode 4 of series 1, and so my thoughts drift to him again and trying to fathom out that kind of psychology, which is pretty impossible. So, today's poem is about this. Cheers.

His darkest place

Deep inside the dark wood
Near an oft-running brook
Beneath the high boughs
Of an overarching tree
Sits a house on its own
Where he resides alone
Beside himself
Beside the echo

In dark places he dwells
Thriving on the lack
Of colour, heart and hope
Exhausted as these things are
Within his four walls
The mirror gives back enough
The lights too much

This is his place
Where he shares his secrets
With no one
Except her
She is his cruel vice
His darkest secret
Spun on a fantasy dreamt
Now spent
If only to relive itself

In this reality
He shifts between the walls
Like a ghost walking
A paper-thin character
Living with no resemblance
Sleeping like the dead
If only

But she knows
Carrying his darkest deeds
Locked in her head
The body bears the scars
How she yearns for a key
To escape into the light
She has not glimpsed for an age

He strides
Back and forth
Deep in thoughtless thought
His mind sweeping yet still
An empty space
Where empathy once dwelt
These floorboards creak
Crying out at his weight
Being the only sound here
Where the quiet stiffens

She knows
What it is to be silenced
Hearing steps above her head
The ever-present threat of him
Lost where she is
Sheltered, she waits
Dying by the day
His darkest secret
Enclosed beneath the boards
In the in between
A prison of the body and mind

She sinks
Not knowing whom she’ll meet
Either he or his other self
One who befriended her
One who betrayed her
Jagged is the heart
Of the one without
Shattered, she sits in darkness
Her fate long sealed
Still holding on
To the wisp of a hope
Plagued by the echo
Of his footsteps

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Wednesday, 14 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (14): Green

Green

In this greenest of grass
Where the cracked ivy winds
Ever searching to burrow
Buttercups nod to the sun
This blaze of egg-yolk yellow
Set in a wash of purest blue
Here, in the mind’s eye
The imagination runs wild
A neon-blue dragonfly
Flits delicate gossamer wings
Whirring to create a current
Of moving air to play upon
Against nature’s own breeze
These valleys dive deep below
Verdant fields of lowing sheep
Unrestrained by fences
Wandering as free as they will
Bowing to the buttercups bobbing
Where the dragonfly hums

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (13): The Fall

Hi, I just watched episode one of The Fall. I'm a big fan of The Bridge and The Killing (original) with their strong female characters who are flawed and fascinating, so I have big expectations! Anyway, for today's poem my mind switched to murder most foul...

The Fall

Emotions sliver over
The mind skewered
Blood-red is the edge
Of reason snapped
Muddied footsteps walk
A clear conscience
Severed beyond thought
Clouded in this present
Where time stopped
Hours stream together
Seeping to an accord

A lock of dark hair twisted
A silver locket undusted

These prizes removed
Treasured like souvenirs
The cold eye observes
With detached interest
Rows of framed pictures
Oblivious to them all
Such memories have no use
In the still art he created
The body will lie constant
Undetected for days

Raw, spent anger
Leaves a life fractured
As he closes the door

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Monday, 12 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (12): City sleepers



City sleepers

In between the spaces
Wander the abandoned
Strewn beneath the bleak
Stepping stones to the past

Waves of yearning sound
Tearing into the dark
Jagged screams cut silences
Upon the marked hand

Shadows dance, etched upon
The night owls take flight
Escaping the profound
Among the distant sleepers

Fingers dip to steal a coin
Taking breath for granted
Here it is just one leap
Into the maze

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Sunday, 11 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (11): Every hour I wait











Every hour I wait

Every hour I wait
For the trickle of time
Spilling over pages
Filling the in between,
Waking colours
In the pitch;
Fading footsteps
Sinking in wet sand.

I wake
In fresh remembrance
Circling my hands
In water.

Blue fades
In the young hereafter
As pink petals fall
Coveting the small.
Ache in waking
Reaching to fulfill
The arch of the rainbow.

Sings in the sand
A blissful echo
Of the silver noon tide.

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Saturday, 10 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (10): 3 poems #MoP

Today's poems were written for the Month of Poetry Saturday Challenge. The challenge was to write an abcedarian poem, also called an alphabet poem. Each line begins with a consecutive letter of the alphabet in order until the end Z. I found it pretty hard and couldn't find my rhythm, feeling hemmed in by the ABC. I also kept starting lines with letters that had gone before - my alphabet must be darn crazy! So I ended up writing 3 cos I wasn't sure of them. Have a go and post it in the Comments if you like or sign up to the Saturday Challenge. Good luck. Here's the link - http://monthofpoetry.wordpress.com - cheers! 



The witch and the whale

At the crest of the silvery moon
Bore the eagle its babes too soon.
Calling forth mages upon her broom,
Dinah, the fiercest witch, gave chase;
Emptied of pity, she made haste.
From the moon to the earth, base
Gruesome deeds she sought to make.
Horrors rose from the bottomless lake;
In the midst hissed Liar, an artful snake.
Judged by none, all fears did he wake.
Killing and maiming was all he did;
Loved by Dinah, he obeyed as she bid –
Moving swiftly through the grass, he hid.
No one dared help the poor eagles win,
Oft frightened, except the courageous Fin;
Pure of heart, brave and mighty of kin,
Quitting a dour deed was never for him.
Roared forth the sea and the air grew thin,
Swimming, Fin made for the end of the Rim.
Towering in frame, from the water he rises
Under the nose of Dinah whom he despises;
Vying for power, of the Rim he is the wisest.
Whales all over the oceans sound his name,
Xyan, forever followed for his enduring fame
Young and strong, Dinah is a friendless dame;
Zigging o’er the sky, she leaves on her broom.


Fairy dust

Another calls his name
Blowing dust in the breeze
Crows the darkest bird
Dumbfounded as it falls
End of times begin again
Foolish stunts forgotten
Giddy is the dog that spits
Higher flies the blackbird
In this wood of splendour
Jokers play a song for all
Kings fall and the wise rise
Laughing as a jackal
Madly flown on gossamer wings
Nia of the fairies bestows
Open blessings on the natural
Playful in her artful matching
Queens envy her beauty
Ruthless in its innocence
Sailing on the morning star
These things she sees below
Unveiled to none, she studies
Verdant fine the land below
Wisely guarded by her hand
Xanthic flowers bloom and nod
Yearning for her magic touch
Zen-like, she is mother to all.


Ziggi

A moonlit dance
But a dream
Clueless this man
Devoid of sanity
Ever imagining
Flying to the stars
Growing wings

He sees eternity
In his mind’s eye
Joking in its way
Kangeroos boxing
Llamas bleating
Madness reaching
No one to listen

On this clear night
Perchance to find a
Queen in waiting
Rising, he dances
Swift in his moves
Tousled and twisting
Unveiling himself

Viewed from afar
What would you think?
X-rays alone can part
Ying and yang entwined
Zig-zagging, he sings.

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Friday, 9 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (9): The chase

A 2-minute poem written for the '2 minutes. Go!' fun writing fest on Unemployed Imagination with JD Mader. Check it out on Fridays, guys. The link - http://www.jdmader.com/2015/01/2-minutes-go_9.html?spref=fb



The chase

Slipping her fingers
Through his mane
She urges him forth
Feeling the warm beat
The pounding within
Her own blood roars
Like a tide in her ears
As she is swept
Upon the icy wind
Chasing the night
As far as it allows
Shattering time itself
Into rays of glass
Among tripping stars.
This dew of welcome
Lights the storm now
Thunder rears its head
Casting a magic stroke
Yet he charges on
Soaring across the sky
Knowing no man or boy
Only this slight girl
Hanging on to life itself
As he gallops high

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Thursday, 8 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (8): The freedom to be

Recent horrific events in Paris inspired me to write this.

The freedom to be

Where blind hatred breeds
It plants ignorant seeds
The desperate grab guns
Where everyone runs
Prejudice gains nothing
But the art of losing
Freedom knows its value
Above all, me and you
It flies a flag of colour
Defended by true valour
Humanity rests on this
For its unconscious bliss
Where contempt seeks to grow
We should drag it low
Valuing rights of free speech
Tolerance of all and each
Only in this way can we live
Allowing humanity to breathe  

copyright Vickie Johnstone

Wednesday, 7 January 2015

A Poem a Day 2015 (7): Outside of time


Outside of time

He knows not what he says
Nor the day on which he says it
All is lost, ripped from the calendar
Leaving a hook where it once hung
He claims he no longer needs it
Disconnected as he is from time
Keeping to the day will not suit
The memory he pretends to have

I cannot persuade him to alter
I cannot trick him to see clearer

The depth of passing knows no bounds
This fence cannot break his wildness
A picture bereft in its cheapness
Secured in its distance to old mortality
He who waits may not tame it here
Always falling where the light rises

All things come to pass as they end
Not with a scream but a silencing
A dark cloud of crows swallow the sky
Chasing the sun to its hiding place
This memory is but a curse in time
For when it chooses it will deceive
Stealing the now, past and future
To leave but an echo of itself

I cannot imagine how he sees things
I cannot wonder at the art of this

Sugar-coated explanations will not do
As the mirror reflects the loss of self
Emptiness stricken dumb cannot fight
This endless roar of the coming rage
He treads this never ending dark
Circling the light fading to a spark.

copyright Vickie Johnstone