Poetry Collection by Adrian Spendlow 08 2017
If by chance
If by chance a fairy came this way the air she danced upon a glistening pastel pattern of an atmosphere inter-linked with lilac, puce and purple edges of the burgundy issuing images of thought inside you of an informative description messaging to reach for this in all the impossible the actual the so now real She gives you She gives you gifts made possible from within the everything If by chance a fairy being fluttered by us yes she did and this is ever-time where one foot steps and feels the dew rise to lift one slightly Never ever again walk at surface earth or quite the same for you are otherkin and everything is happening Reach within and step beyond to
by Adrian Spendlow
Bum’s Rush
I am moving back up, onto the edge of the toes
By the minute; go the moment
Hang it and dump it this not able to cope
Sickness, bereavement, anxiety, recovery
Slowly, ponderously, dealing if possible
Begger that darlings. It is a whole just as shite
When you are ready for it. Up at it every day
Mind set and healthy fit
Though don’t expect to get the better of it
Get on them timbers and shout out for attention
Not expecting though
To be immune to an afternoon snooze
Or a complete flip out
Take all your happy snaps
Begger that too honey. I am ready
And I am right on the edge of the toes
It’s called living
And bum cheeks are clenched
by Adrian Spendlow
The Noise in the Corner There
Most people are just not that pretty
Or interesting in appealing ways
Miracles are manipulated to achieve
Off the peg fits for their additives
Thank the gods of unloveliness
There are evening socials
Groups to join, sufferings to have
Places we hate to work – Thank God
Not being interesting is quite bad enough
Hey, we don’t know how to engage with you
Or to take turns either
Those botched eyes haven’t quite related
To your semi absenteeism
Inept appearance is hardly our worse aspect
Let’s form a club, or work hard to have staff night outs
Goggle at each other; at our google eye unbeauty
Let’s have a get together
by Adrian Spendlow
Just Any Two People
God it was exciting to be alive
Back when another human was encouraging
Things there were to say of each other
Habits turned to possible activities
I was interesting by god
So were both of us
Shadowy gangs of hangers on
They realise
They used to be people we knew
They were excited too
No, actually, they were exciting too
It was us, and we were new
by Adrian Spendlow
I Spotted A Victim
I admire the survivability of survivors
A whole rainforest of tears shine this morning
Just thinking of playgrounds and wooded areas
Just thinking of the homes which disparage the word
I admire the survivor
The ability to look in a mirror on waking
And ‘make-up’ to be like other people
Other people other than perpetrators
Surely there are other people
That’s why we do our hair of a morning
To be like those other people we have heard of
I admire the survivor for keeping writing as tears
Blur the ink of this growing poem
I admire the survivor
For I am sure they can see me
Reaching out as we know you know
Monsters make us doubt ourselves
Yet a chance moment allows
An unstable old person, a poet,
And an eight year old
To look around sat on hay bails
And acknowledge
I don’t know you, either of you
But I do know
I know you admire me for I survive
I do admire survivors
I admire the survivability of survivors me
by Adrian Spendlow
I Dreamed of a Village
We built a tepee village here
And the bunny boiler
Killed my kid
“Goat stew” he said
A whole herd has lost
My favourite little friend Fifi
He belittled me in other ways
These days I look back at
The rolling meadow utopia
We physically built there
by Adrian Spendlow
It Never Happened
It is my honour bound duty
She whispered kindly to her
To keep a child with her mother
I am a family nurturer
In many situations I would do this
In your case
It would be a wickedness
Over my dead body would they
Put you back with that monstress
Bless you child
That you have no memory
Wild as you are
You are a miracle you see
by Adrian Spendlow
And a couple of old ones from way back…
Something Inside Me
I set the default
It doesn’t work
There is always a reset
But I go
I try
Old as I am
There is no wisdom
There is only
A new direction
I wait here
And wonder
What it is…
AS
Poetry Is
Poetry is a flickering grit of rock
Cast within the wide forever black
Poetry is a rare viewed
talismanic artefact
Poetry is the disallowed
Clutching at the edges of the past
Poetry is no longer held
As other than the esoteric
Bring it back
Poetry is – no longer
Gone the way of the storyteller
Gone the way of the Shaman’s chant
The way of the dance
Where is all your ritual
The spiritual – The festival
Gone the way of the
Soon to follow songwriter
When such as Dylan die
Who will sing
Just for the sake of truly saying
Poetry – Poetry is gone
No longer inspiring the simple soul
To go live the life of the Troubadour
Poetry is no more
And yet
It leaves us all bereft
Help us poetry
Why don’t you call
Reach us like a joy to share
Gather people – Listening hearts
Or have we hardened
Pushed aside for solid ground
The will to even care
Poetry is dead
And at it’s wake
The quaffer’s smack their lips on
Garish fayre
Did they forget
Or is it there
Seeded in the genes
the memory of gathering
Simple childhood harmony
Poetry is
A stoppered flask
Lingering as an inkling barely heard
Lost, stamping,
just beyond the daily word
Poetry is
The victim of the
“That’s not”’s
Judgement takes her
Poetry is
The scoffing stock of
“No time”’s
Avarice despise her
Poetry is the metal of the spirit
Turned away for what seems sharper
Poetry is
The laugh of Gods
Gouged out by heartlessness
A vision that the modern self
Just will not see
Set it free
Set it free
Say ‘Poetry’ have a home in me
Poetry – Poetry – Poetry
AS
Your words paint a wonderful story of life and it’s many colours .
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oh lovely thank you ever so
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Always so good to read your poetry – as well as to hear it, of course! Some beautiful and powerful words here.
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So wonderful and you are the most amazing survivor I know much love always xxx
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oh bless you
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