I love to walk along Old dirt roads in the country The build-up of road trash Along each shoulder Tells a story Empty bullet shells Coca cola cans Crushed beer cans Dollar General bags There was life here once Kids growing up Shooting road signs Road signs filled With rusting bullet holes Each hole made... Continue Reading →
From my dear friend John Collins, The Mush From The Hill!
Poets Portraits this month is for an absolute star. Where I come from we’d call him ‘A Beast’; a fighter, a man of strong will and courage cause that’s exactly what he is. Oh, and his writings not to bad either.
Walt Page over at Walt’s Writings, also known as the Tennessee Poet has done it all. On his family tree he’s held every position from husband to grandfather, uncle to cousin. He’s been a Business Man, Musician, Veteran but by my reckoning a Poet all his life and a damn good one to boot.
I’ve followed Walt’s blog now for quite a while and I love everything he writes. This particular verse is close to my heart as it represents a culture I hold dear; Celtic Pride. So without further ado I present to you:
A Celtic Warrior
Lives the Spirit of a Celtic Warrior
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From the mind of my dear friend, The Poet’s Poet
Words don’t you just love them?
These inescapable creatures
Intelligibility, they have it in spades
Unavoidable once you wake
Undoubtedly they never sleep
They are there in your dreams
In your screams.
They have no problem with repetition
Thrive on hyperbole.
O’re yon high eastward hill
Housed in his hamlet he’ll write words at will
Shakespeare he may never be
Lives in a land of fiction
Living in the world words
Equates to waking each morning to joyous madness.
12th March 2020
Poetry from The Man Shed
~The Poet’s Poet~
Excellent advice for aging!
Many of us are between 65 and death . An old friend sent me this excellent list for aging , and , I have to agree it’s good advice to follow … particularly the item 19 .
01 – It’s time to use the money you saved up . Use it and enjoy it . Don’t just keep it for those who may have no notion of the sacrifices you made to get it . Remember there is nothing more dangerous than a son or daughter-in-law with big ideas for your hard-earned capital . Warning : This is also a bad time for investments , even if it seems wonderful or fool-proof . They only bring problems and worries . This is a time for you to enjoy some peace and quiet .
02 – Stop worrying about the financial situation of your children and grandchildren , and don’t feel bad spending your money on yourself . You’ve taken care of them for many years , and…
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A wonderful tribute to long forgotten castles by my friend Dr. Agonson. It touched my Scottish roots.
An old castle
Nestled in the hills
Called by a forgotten name:
It stands there,
Enveloped in shadows,
Never to be seen
Till time should end.
The castle waits
In the dark,
Yet always known.
Left there in
Dead to all,
Stands the castle.
Mystery of mystery,
The Poet's Poet (@CJBlack2012) Tweeted: ‘Pouring light into a cup Music by Frederic Chopin Etude op25 n12 The Ocean’ on #SoundCloud #np https://t.co/8fin6wJ0na https://twitter.com/CJBlack2012/status/1204409532815798272?s=20 Awesome poetry from my friend Chris Black, The Poet's Poet!
Beautiful poetry describing day becoming night.
As night slowly draws a veil over dusk
The fading day dons layer upon layer
Of increasingly dark robes and shrouds and weeds of a funereal hue
Appropriate to the imminent demise that confronts the old figure now
Bent and moving with difficulty
Bowed down by both age and grief
Closer and closer it seems to draw to its companion the sea
Perhaps for comfort
Perhaps simply because it is weakened from the effort of dying
As from the blue sky of the day’s younger self
Grew so quickly the symptoms and indications
Of a life ebbing away
Not long left to live now
And then suddenly
The day’s end is reached and is mercifully quick
A handful of gulls attired in funeral rags
A flock of almost invisible black etchings
Against a now unlit sky
Pay their respects in silence
And vanish into the distant eternity
The twilight sky…
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It's always there Reminding me Taunting me Haunting me It controls me Drains me It pisses me off But it doesn't care How it affects me Because it knows It knows that There is nothing I can do about it It knows It can't be cured It can't be fixed I hear it Laughing at... Continue Reading →
Thank you Robbie 😊💛
Today, I am welcoming poet and blogger, Walt Page, to Robbie’s Inspiration with a wonderful poem entitled The Magnitude of Poetry.
The Magnitude Of Poetry
“Poetry is dead”
So some writers say
But listen closely please
To what I’m about to say
Poetry is ever written, everlasting
It will be around long after the doubters
Poetry is the view from the highest mountain
That makes us dizzy from the height
It’s the beating of our hearts
And the tapping of our feet
While we read the rhythm of the words
It’s the way it makes us feel
When it takes us to a grave
The taste in our mouths
When it describes a kiss
The smell of a wood stove
That heats a mountain cabin
And the warmth it makes us feel
It’s that childlike memory
Of your favorite nursery rhyme
And the dreams we had of Santa Claus
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