chrisnelson61

~ Poetry, stories and some random words…

chrisnelson61

Tag Archives: verse

Only You

07 Saturday Jan 2023

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

creative, inspiration, Love, Only You, poems, poetry, verse, writing

Everything is nonsense

But you:

The trinkets and the gold,

The diamonds and the dust;

The castle walls we build,

And all that turns to rust.

The words we speak so loud,

And those we bury deep;

The things we seek to waste,

And everything we keep.

The script we act each day,

The faces that we show;

Favours that we garner,

And those we keep at bay.

Pockets filled with silver,

And hearts so full of pride;

All we show to others,

That say ‘at least we tried’.

Yes, everything is nonsense,

Nothing counts in time,

Everything is nonsense,

But you.

Time

17 Saturday Dec 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

age, creative, Innocence, loss, Love, Memory, poems, poetry, time, verse, Wisdom, writing

Time turns the page,

Its benign eyes watch

As hands stretch out,

Offering the wisdom of experience

In exchange for the innocence of youth,

And we grasp at it

As if it were the only way,

As if it somehow offered up

An answer to our lives,

And how so easily we part

With all that we once knew,

And concepts such as hope and faith

Now gather dust on shelves,

That lie beyond our sight

And so far from our reach.

Kiss the Blind

03 Saturday Dec 2022

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≈ 7 Comments

Tags

creative, faith, Honesty, Kiss the Blind, Perception, poems, poetry, Self-awareness, Truth, verse, writing

Hand weakens resolve

Slips through my fingers

I cannot be

Perceptions of others





Vanish in daylight

So scentless the rose

The taste on my tongue

Reminds me of dreams





Beneath the bruise

Feelings of absence 

Drowning in platitudes

Still reaching out





Caverns uncharted

The blind kiss the blind

Lips dripping

Horizons a mirror





Footsteps untaken

A veil drawn over

Doorway that leads

Once more to the start

On Reading

12 Saturday Nov 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Books, Competition, creative, Fun, Guessing game, Literature, On Reading, poems, poetry, Prizes, Quiz, Reading, Silliness, verse, writing

Just a bit of silliness, really, (the verse that is, not reading itself without which…).

Points will be awarded for anyone who can recognise the books from the (sometimes slightly obscure) precis. There are ten points up for grabs…but no prizes other than self-satisfaction!

I lost myself
Between the sheets
Lived each page and
Every beat,
I was the lover on the moor
The killer on the shore,
Sat in a garret wracked with shame
Keeping secrets on a train,
A man on trial without a charge
The girl both small and large,
The man with shadow never seen
A woman turning green,
My stories told in Tarot cards
Where dreams collide and play,
I lost myself
Between the sheets,
And found myself
Within the words.

Answers (for those interested) on Monday.



The Wrong Story

22 Saturday Oct 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Acceptance, Communication, creative, Falling Sleet, inspiration, loss, Love, poems, poetry, The Wrong Story, Understanding, verse, writing

It was the wrong story that leapt up and out at me,

From the page that I saw behind your eyes –

Its tumbling words sang to me as if I were the one,

The only one to whom they spoke.

They wrapped themselves around me like a Winter’s evening shawl,

A warmth and comfort my insides craved,

A tale unpicked for me.

And as my mind began to weave and tangle a missive in which to grow,

My eyes closed blind to those I saw and

Nurtured futures fruitless.

I turned and spread each leaf before me reflecting as I did,

On every word that I planted there,

And every root that you pushed deep.

And only when the stems had grown and twisted every one,

About and through my aching frame,

Did my eyes, at last, loose their lustre –

And only then did I recognise that,

The story I had read was wrong.

This Smile

08 Saturday Oct 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Acceptance, Awareness, Belonging, creative, Deception, Facade, Love, lyrics, poems, poetry, Self, Smile, This Smile, Truth, verse, writing

I wore my smile

Across the years,

It masked the pain

And hid the tears,

It locked the door

And hid the key,

So no-one close,

Would ever see.





I wore my smile

Across the years,

A heavy veil

For silent fears,

To fool the crowd

Within my sway,

And help to hold

The dogs at bay.





I wore my smile 

Across the years,

To fend away

The swords and spears,

But now I find

I cannot choose,

To drop the smile

And to be true.

Night Bus

24 Saturday Sep 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

AbeBooks, Amazon, Another Tease, Book, Book Depository, creative, Depression, hope, inspiration, loss, Love, Lulu, lyrics, music, nostalgia, Peace, poems, poetry, Prose, Publication, verse, war, writing

A short piece taken from the collection of poetry, prose and lyrics entitled ‘Another Tease’ (links at the end of the post. Enjoy!

I sat on the bus, watching the night-lit streets as they passed by like frozen, shrouded memories. The juddering, stop-start motion seemed to bring an uneasy comfort to my body, detached as it was from my consciousness. Other vehicles, heading in the opposite direction, appeared and then disappeared as if they were on some mythic quest, their headlights dull and dim below my position on the top deck of the bus, illuminating nothing but the first few steps on a journey without end. For a moment it seemed as if only they knew the direction in which to move in order to find some salvation, some respite from the pain, and yet I knew, contained within each metal box, was nothing more than one more lonely figure hoping beyond all hope that something, some miracle, would appear to snap them out of their coma.

Buildings rose up on either side of me now; giant monoliths, some pale and dark, devoid of life, tired and waiting for release, others still humming under the electric glow which gave them purpose. Their eyes stared out without seeing through the dark, and were gone again, lost to me as I moved steadily on. Their facades hung momentarily in my mind like all the faces of people I had met in my life, before fading into a sea of ashen memories. The night around me seemed to tighten its grip as, like an abandoned vessel, we sailed on.

To both the right and to the left of me roads sprouted off from the main artery down which I was travelling. They sparkled and twinkled with the hope of the newborn before even their lights were swallowed by the darkness into which, it seemed, the whole world had fallen. I shuddered as the bus lurched around a corner: not from the cold – I had long since become immune to that – but from the impending realisation that we were, at last, nearing my stop, my final destination.

And then everything was quiet, but for the pounding in my chest and the pulsing in my head. What if I were to remain on the bus? Would it eject me when it reached its destination, its point of termination, or would it show a glimmer of empathy, offer up a hand and cradle me to its heart? After all, my brain reminded me, what point was there to alighting, to leaving the bus to continue without me, if you were no longer there to welcome me home?

Another Tease – poetry, prose and lyrics

LULU

BOOK DEPOSITORY 

ABEBOOKS

ALBRIS

AMAZON

Behind

17 Saturday Sep 2022

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≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Aging, Behind, creative, death, loss, Love, poems, poetry, separation, verse, writing

And with each dying breath 

That settles on the breeze,

To dip its head beneath

The horizon that we see,

Our lives become a little fainter

A little thinner to the eye,

And all the things that meant so much

Fall to the ground

Like Autumn’s sigh,

To be replaced by a growth

Whose colours seem,

To weary eyes,

A little paler in their hue

A little less impactful,

And as we mourn

The loss of souls

Whose touch we feel as if it were our own,

We step ourselves,

A little closer,

To the hole they left

Behind.

Like Animals

03 Saturday Sep 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Belonging, creative, Fashion, Like Animals, Materialism, poems, poetry, Ritual, verse, writing

Like animals

They parade themselves

Showing what they can’t maintain,

Preening, pawing

Dancing in the light

Try to catch another eye,

Brightly coloured

Always on display

Nothing left to keep behind,

Pick a trinket

A fleeting treasure

And hold it for the world to see,

Until the sun shines

Patterns repeated

Is this the only game we know?

Something Blue – Nine Things Blue

09 Tuesday Aug 2022

Posted by chrisnelson61 in Uncategorized

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Another Tease, Book, creative, hope, inspiration, loss, Love, Nine Things Blue, nostalgia, poems, poetry, Publication, verse, writing

A crumpled card
Seaside view,
A sapphire ring
Not quite new,
The evening dress
Never worn,
A loving note
Newly torn,
A bluebell wild
Favourite bloom,
Hanging moon that
Fades too soon,
A hidden stream
Once was known,
A star-lit night
Secrets shown,
Cool eyes bright now
Soaked with tears

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Poetry Jay Maria Simpson

"There is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind" Virginia Woolf

Flicker of Thoughts

Love to write!

bendingtheneedle

Truth Hurts

Matthew Richardson

Published in Gold Dust magazine, Literally Stories, Near to the Knuckle, McStorytellers, Penny Shorts, Soft Cartel, Whatever Keeps the Lights On, and Shooter magazine.

Gina Maria Manchego - Author

Welcome to my diary of jotted dreams

The Humdrum Epicurean

Richard M. Ankers - Storybook

A home for the stories and poems that got away.

SURREALITY

BE SURREAL AND THE WORLD WILL BE A BETTER PLACE TO LIVE.

Anonymously Hal

Poetry, Photography, and Thoughts

Ogden Fahey - Art

Stories I've Never Told...

(...and some I have)

Lazy Existenz

Dialectics of disenchantment, the intermittent rhythm of thinking...

Slumdog Soldier

Dog whisperer. Storyteller. Accidental author.

Thistle Thoughts

luna's on line

Writing and Stuff by Chris Hall - Storyteller and Accidental Blogger

- MIKE STEEDEN -

THE DRIVELLINGS OF TWATTERSLEY FROMAGE

School Of Blue

Musings

sceadugenga

words | spirit

Ken Hallett Blog

Writing Lostness

The Vision of Poets

The Poetic Stories of Michael33

HARLEY HOLLAND

Artemis and the Moon

short stories about life

Grumpy's Gifts (poetry corner)

a space cleared for sharing words well worth their share.

Blueprint of a Storm

writer — poet — word and reality rearrange(r)

Treacle Heart

poetry & prose by HLR

tara caribou

poetry & short story author - artist & nature lover

Musings

What comes to me as a still, small voice in the atmosphere of daylight and evening. © Mario Savioni and Musings, 2013. Unauthorized use or duplication of this material without the consent of the author is prohibited. Small (100 words or less) excerpts or links are permitted as long as credit is given to Mario Savioni with direction to the original content. Please refrain from “reblogging” posts.

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...a world of poetry and spokenword

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In 2002, Retinitis Pigmentosa changed my life. This is my story of a slow approach to darkness.

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einige mehr oder weniger tolle Ideen um die Fotografie und die Bildbearbeitung

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Dreams, thoughts, and experiences expressed through poetry and prose

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There's no sky, just stars.

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