Poetry thread

I told myself I understand everyone of me
Except the part that would disagree,
Its others that have the difficulty,
What I see others may or may not see,
What they see I may or may not see,
The world is full of complexity
Confusing so often it can be,
I guess the human race behaves interestingly.

I miss my mum too @FisMisFit

It's my journal, I effectively use it as a therapy. I like it as it's not a daily obligation like a journal, but in a selfish kind of way, it's all about me. If I read it back it's clear what I was thinking when or sometimes it's almost meaningless and that probably says my thoughts were wild at the time and I couldn't calm them down

Actually, the word manure has two syllables: ma-nure, with the stress on the second syllable. (I used to teach English)

Actually I’m quite sure that ‘manure’ has 3 syllables, so your haiku had 8 syllables in the second sentence.

It was actually invented because most sentences in Japanese unintentionally rhyme, so traditional poetry would be completely lost in translation, if you get what I mean

Or maybe:

Put my foot in it

Sh.., I'm improperly shod

Better pull it out

:-)

Hi William, that's a fun poem, but Haiku follows a defined pattern of 17 syllables, in 3 lines of 5 then 7 then 5 syllables. So your poem in haiku form could be like this:

Green fields dotted Brown

My Flip flops land in manure

Wise man wears wellies

Just in case it appeals to anyone:

"The Spectrum is a magazine written for and by autistic people and we are always looking for new contributors. Whether you have an article, piece of artwork or a poem you would like to be considered for inclusion, please send it in and it could appear in a subsequent issue." 

NAS - The Spectrum Magazine > Submit work

That's a beautiful tribute, and has brought tears to my eyes. Love and pain are twinned in it.

I close my eyes and I see you again

ageless beauty only a mother can attain

I hear my name from the bottom stair

and answer offhandedly without much care

you call again, closer this time... I turn my head

and then I wake up, alone in my bed

dreams sweet deceit 

I wrote that after my mother passed away. She was all I really had in this world

I like that. I’ll give it a try.

there’s so much manure in the field.

I’ll make sure to wear my flip flops.

poo everywhere.

i should have worn wellies.

I don't do rhyming poetry. I prefer haiku.

The sun is so bright

I might need an umbrella

Ow, I got sunburn

Slithering, undulating, a wretched sight

Down in slime and muck a creature of night

Hatred is it's worth, rage it's equity.

Mired in disgust, sloth and gluttony.

A mandatory parasite, everything it will leech and defile.

All to continue spreading it's filth and bile.

It's reflection vile, a mental stain.

Cursed and wicked it can only feel pain.

Pity, not deserved. Forgiveness? Absurd!

Let it marinate in torment and squalor.

And we shall rejoice when in agony it screams and hollers.

It is worthy of less, we are being nice I confess.

For this dastardly creature, contempt is kindness and all that is cruel is all it can ever possess.

Was a bad time.  Lol

I've been going along attending a local poetry appreciation group here for a year now (very handy as I've had very little appreciation of poetry so far). Members recite poems at the front on a set theme each month. I'd avoided public speaking since I was a student 30 years ago so was very wary how it would go (i.e. very badly like at that time). It's been rough but there have been more positives+light with it so far, surprisingly and refreshingly so that's good news+ a great relief. I'm still finding I prefer to follow the poem with my finger on the paper while I'm reading it at the lectern and I don't bother making eye contact with the audience (I've got enough on just following and reading the poem etc) and I'm happy with that. I don't put a lot of performance into it either, I prefer to do it e.g. like Simon Armitage, just read it and let the words be the most important thing / do the talking 

Perfection.

Surely nothing, but a road with no end.

Something worth finding, the roads have some bends.

i hate to type words, if I am constantly rereading.

fleeting like birds, rip out the seedling.

The feeling is unpleasant, I have to give it more thought.

look up at the moon’s crescent, perhaps perfection I’ve caught?

no, there’s more to find, there has to be more.

It’s the way I sit and unwind, contact the concrete floor.

it’s cold, and uncomfortable, but this is the price to pay.

Clean the spotty spectacles, rinse off the day.

as I lay in my bed, to try and get some deep sleep.

the anger makes me bright red, and I don’t get a peep.

how can I find the meaning, when it’s new every day?

to loved ones I am leaning, something I hate to say.

admit, speak, and let yourself be heard.

I’ve never been weak, to me it’s absurd.

the banging the clatter, it must be a sign.

and the constant chatter, why must it rhyme.

i hate the knowledge that I was born with a curse.

but only I acknowledge, true depth to the word.

i need to rest, so I’m signing off now.

i tried my best, i’ll find it somehow.

It wears a different shirt, but it feels the same.

no, this time it’s dirt, it’s a beast I can tame.

i felt it yesterday, the day before, and on Thursday.

don’t go just yet there’s more, listen to what I have to say.

it feels like an itch, but not just a scratch.

Plans I’ll have to ditch, because of this awful rash.

burning sensation but not from a hob.

I need clarification, can’t sit here and sob.

i lift up my hand, and place it on my face.

it’s as rough as sand, I think I know the case.

i smooth out my beard, using the vitamins.

i bite back the tears, thanking the glycerin.

i have to go now, there’s no more I can say.

but I hope I lifted your frown, enjoy your day.

To what do you speak, are flowers a friend?

do petals you seek, for a sweet end?

pink, ocean blue, purple or deep red,

maybe I’ll take two, “£5” the cashier said.

actually i’ll take a bunch, i’m feeling in need.

the next words felt like a punch, as the cashier smiles with greed.

“20 pounds please”, I was taken aback.

this made me cease, I felt under attack.

I smiled so nicely and passed them the money.

“It’s a little pricey, I’m not being funny”

lesson learned, as I left but not with a hop.

My wallet is burned, next time I’ll go to a different shop.