Stone Hearts

Out from the core

squeezed stone hearts,

so heavy of feet,

Lumbered on forward,

pumping and pounding, expounding

irregular beat.


Into the cities,

forests, villages,

the glens,

Trudging their muck,

gravelling paths

as they went.


New tablets hewn,

eschewing

natural will,

Passed to the future

legacies voided

then stilled.


Surveyed, as proprietors,

creative accountancy

sighed,

Despoiled, exhausted,

replenishment

hidden inside.


Back to their bothies,

striding inwards

shelter’d from storm,

Trolls suited

underground,

awaiting new time to be born.

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Wrap Around

Wrap around the blanket,

Comfort, easer,

Wrap around,

Be sure all else is nought,

Wrap around and snuggle in, with pleasure,

Give love to self,

When comforted,

Give what’s sought.  

Wrap around with jacket,

Fleeced and warming,

Wrap around, collared, scarfed,

As toast,

Breath to vapour lingers under lighting,

In comfort wrapped,

Inside, outside,

Love warms most. 

Old and New

New class, brand new school,

Old ways and new ways combined

Harmony in action.

new school 2 new school 3 new school new school 4

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday saw me move into this wonderful new school building. We’ve been going at it solid for three days, unpacking and setting up again, getting prepped for the return of the children today who scored three days off in the move. I’ve been climbing all over furniture hanging frieze paper on to fresh, new walls.

From this..

old school

Rotting from inside,

Beneath papered coverings,

Old gone very wrong.

The dilapidated decant building used while the new school was being built. What lies beneath the paperwork, right enough. Uncovered in all its glory while we stripped every inch of the old bare to salvage the worthwhile. January has been a different sort of job, teaching while packing and uncovering the horrors beneath. The Scottish Parliament has been investing in new schools the length and breadth of the country. Investing in the future. In our children. I, for one, am extremely thankful that some old things, long past their sell-by-date, will soon be demolished. It is possible to keep the old if we care for it. And it’s beneficial. The above fits no criteria worthy of retention.

phone 29 -1-15 027

Before first footprints,

Aged in fresh fallen snow,

Serenity known.

I took this from my bedroom in the early hours of this morning with my new camera phone, without a flash, on night time smart-setting or something that this auld bugger doesn’t quite get yet. But I like old and new. And I liked the results. About four minutes from here is my youngest daughter’s lovely new school at which I’m teaching for the year. Falling out of bed now. With the snow. Old(er!) and young, hand in hand, as off we walk to school. 🙂

Living Song

I seem to be in musical mode. This is the second ‘song’ I’ve written since after last night’s yoga class – and not for the first time after yoga. What’s that about? The other one’s a fair bit longer so I’ll save you from that – for the moment! I’m not even sure this one’s finished but I’m hitting publish anyway. While singing. 🙂

What picks me up

When I fall down,

What keeps me going on,

What urges me

In ailing days,

What keeps me fighting strong

Are all the ways

You look at me,

Your face, how it beguiles,

The hopes and dreams

I harbour dear,

Life in all its styles.

What brings me back

When life is tough,

What raises spirits high,

What pulls me through

Adversity,

Many answers why,

But, most of all,

It’s hope, my dear,

Hope and struggling on,

Hope in you

And love all true,

Hope’s my living song.

What fires my flame

In all but name,

What burns behind my smile

Is hope that lives

Eternally,

Keeps me going for miles.

What hope I have

All rests in you,

In love and give and take,

My living song,

The whole day long,

Is hope for its own sake.

 

Abstract Love

A guest post for my friend Anne-Marie – originally posted on my blog in 2013

 

 

Abstract Love

the humid heart
weeps with a sheen
only seen on the
inside where seasons
of love hide among
aching blossoms
on rungs of sweet
branches fleet birds
settle gently in snow
or in flow of dry
breezes that smile
and cry in one
single soft whimper
aloft in the same
space that beats
with the thrill of
trilled tympanum

– Paul F Lenzi

http://poesypluspolemics.com/

 

I Bring To You

How beautiful would these gifts be? I want them all. 🙂

Experimental Fiction

This is quite similar to an older poem I wrote, but I think it’s different enough to merit the ‘new’ tag. I hope you like it.

I bring to you
A world in pause,
An empire in a moment;
Unending light from
Every star,
Falling snow in crystal jar,
A love forever potent.

I bring to you
A summers day,
Four seasons in a heartbeat;
The spring in beauty
Laid before,
Autumn’s rain as down it pours,
A winters cold replete.

I bring to you
A time unknown,
A legend of the ages;
The tales of history
All for you,
Ancient stories false and true,
Our past in fragile pages.

I bring to you
My every word,
All images I conjure;
My poetry and
Prose laid out,
From whispered sigh to angry shout,
A world that’s built of wonder.

View original post

Oops, my straitjacket is slipping…

Guest post by Pam at http://butterflysand.com/

When you look up at the stars at night do you feel homesick? Okay, okay, bad joke. Do you know once upon a time I laughed uproariously at that joke. I ran around and told all my preteen friends. Yes, it’s that old. And so am I.

As we age our funny bone seems to migrate. For some people it ends up around the gluteus maximus. For others humour becomes more cerebral. I don’t know the equation to what’s funny. I don’t even know what makes me laugh until I am actually laughing. When was the last time you laughed so hard there were tears running down your face? Do you remember the knee slapping, rib tickling, gut wrenching guffaws you used to hear when a group of people got together to watch a comedy film? I don’t, at least not recently. The last time I had one of those all-encompassing, falling on the floor cackles was watching an old movie.

The movie was ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’. I don’t remember the movie. I don’t even know if it was actually a comedy. What I do remember is my boyfriend and I beating on the furniture. We were laughing so hard we were crying. I remember him falling on the floor and not able to catch his breath. But I don’t remember the movie. I remember that there was a series but it appeared to be about teenage angst (and vampire slaying) I wasn’t interested. I had enough of that when I was a teenager! (The angst not the slaying!) Don’t get me wrong I enjoy comedy. I’ve been known to crack a smile and even show teeth. I just haven’t had a really good belly laugh in a very long time.

Laughter is a universal language. It crosses borders and brings people together. It can also alienate people and cause others to commit various forms of harm. Of course that in itself can be funny! But I digress. I don’t know of any culture that doesn’t have some form of laughter. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could laugh more and shoot less? We spend so much of our time behaving according to the dictates of society that when we let loose it can be epic! Find the time to laugh. A really good guffaw exercises the whole body!

 

Bright Pretender

Spring’s pretending thru’ my kitchen window,

Shining on my pots and all my pans,

A cunning bigger bugger’s spying on her,

Keeping winter just too close at hand.

Music’s playing on my kitchen juke-box,

I’m dancing while I cook and while I sing

‘Cause Spring’s pretending at my window

Promising the longer days it brings.

Roast is sizzling comfort in the oven,

Knowing well that any minute soon

The great dissenter shunts my little hoper,

Fills with clouds that darken brightest room.

But I’ll still dance and cook and sing on,

Believing in the tiny peep I’ve viewed,

I’ll serve up hope along with tatties

And slices of pretender I’ve imbued.

Spring is singing and she’s dancing,

We’re jiving here at light that’s on its way,

Pretence or not, I love my little glimmer,

She’s in my kitchen, brightening up my day.

 

Save This Dance

Will you love me kinder, tender of my dreamscapes,

While passion flares will softness still hold sway,

Shall we dance with longing through the nighttimes

All fears and inhibitions held at bay.

Will we be such lovers on the dancefloor swaying,

Beat to beat, hearts tempoed to the tune,

Shall we weave and wax our words and feelings,

Silhouettes reflected in ballroom.

Will we tango footsteps, bodies fusing

Wilder yet though cherished in the dance,

Shall we meet upon the moonlit parquet,

Tender lovers teaching of romance.

Will the thrum of love keep right on beating

As planets twirl and sunlight filters through,

Shall divinity of the dance we shared in passing

Resist the light and save my dreams of you.

Inducement

Sipping nectar deep in stamened flower,

Erect to galvanise and to entice

Penchant of the butterfly that hovers

Tasting once, enjoying, tasting twice,

Offer savoured, sweetest delectation,

Concubined to heady flower held aloft,

Inducement of the rainbow borne on wingspan,

Partaking of the dewdrop silken soft.