Tag Archives: writing

The lift

Poem The stairwells off limitsin my writers blockshoes worn to the sole soulracing against the clockstuck in this lift since April Fifththe lights went outin dark, therewith the buttons, unlitthe doors, jammed tightno way to tellthe day, from night no matter howmy palms did slamwhere I stoodwas, where I amno matter howmy voice did shoutsearchingContinue reading “The lift”

Blue-black muffled morn

Poem HONK HONK HONK… horn blaringeye – rollsI, out of bedpoetry, off tonguechanging of the guard clocks fell into formationseasonal salute6am says good morning into inkback so soon?an alarm never wakes one up on timeonly prematurely. © Darius the Mate 05-04-2022 Written for the dVerse Quadrille.

Class dismissed

Poem This table, that cradles young dreamsbears heavily my stone filled headdrifting“WAKE UP!” – sir’s white bristled top liparches in feline alertness eyes stabthose blue daggers, old coffee breathI wise crack, stirring up the pot and, waitthe class erupts, chortling wildlyI feel naive validationonce prized“pass forward your papers, to me”my naked page floats timidly throughContinue reading “Class dismissed”

Point, hold, dream

Poem These hands were made for pointingpointing to stars, and askingthese eyes were made for pointingpointing to skies, and baskingin the answers on the questionsto the thoughtsof sight, sound, and tastesuch aswhy send young lives to the slaughter?there’s still starsto gaze- it’s such a waste these hands were made for holding holding baby, bright andContinue reading “Point, hold, dream”

Please do not cry havoc

Sonnet The European dogs of war, grown oldwake from their kennels, ears pricked to the thuda giant brown bear looms, above the fold her nose is wet, and her paws – soaked with bloodcanine bellies full, appetites have wanedsharing meat, so all could eat, and grow fatgreen fields to run, which once ran red, andContinue reading “Please do not cry havoc”

Upyr

Poem Putin the clown, juggling fireup on hind legs for the liarthe circus bear is dirtied brownfolk tales tell of eastern vampireblue and yellow tears falling downjuggling fire, Putin the clownI stand with you, Ukraine in need I stand with Russians taking heed those standing up for their world view arrested in protest, they pleadfreedomContinue reading “Upyr”

Wishing well

Poem I came upon a welldeep, and darkwhere wishes dwellflicked a coinwatched it dropears listened for a plopdown downdownspun and spuntwirled and twirledthe crown …down downdown*plop*I wish I was a giantwith hands a big as hills I’d pick stars, as hands pick applesand drop them by my heelsI wish I was a oceanI’d roll andContinue reading “Wishing well”

Tatar for now

Poem “Fish and visitors stink after three days.” Benjamin Franklin Poor Richard’s Almanack Mother-in-law was salting the haddock micro-managed – I chopped pickles for tartarendless tideof criticisms wafting up my nosedangled on the end of the line thinkingjust, assaultthis fishpush it in the oven and shut the door. DONE. © Darius the Mate 23-02-2022 WrittenContinue reading “Tatar for now”

The origin physique

Poem Chased too far from the garden welcome to the neon town veiny streets where blood clots hardenprogress won’t be broken down the waters churning plastic cities breathe with iron lungsmeta’s the new monastic chanting maledictions in tongueshand held distractionsping, vibrate and lighthuman interactions made on gigabyte the poppy seedsthat grow in pockets basic humanContinue reading “The origin physique”

Shadows swallow the earth from space

Poem – a shadowy Shakespearean sonnet Spacefarers spinning – dark, endless space fall no harness fixed to harness what we knowgrace falls on candles, windless and gracefulglowing pumpkins, Jack-o’-lanterns in-glowpostage to send rockets in this post-agecounted on stars, whilst earths wealth miscountedsage advice; to mistrust the circus sagemounted on motive, where heads are mountedfortunes beContinue reading “Shadows swallow the earth from space”

Bedroom poetry

Poem Words purged, exorcised from the lexiconeyes roll back, face and form of a demon little deaths in the wing span of a swanthe dribbling mess of erupted semen the page is sticky, hot and satisfied collaboration of primal forces peeling away from the orgasmic ridepoetry set free, as wild horses. © Darius the MateContinue reading “Bedroom poetry”

The scraps

Poem The waiter gestured to their tablethey sat facing one another squarely adversarialnibbling conversation before their starters arrived it pounded thinly on the veil peripherals darkunique features blurred their colours smudged through an opaque screen- as grease on paper -which separated them. © Darius the Mate 08-02-2022 Written for dVerse’s Quadrille; a poem in 44Continue reading “The scraps”

Kingdom Animalia

Poem Examining my bare-bonesI am human employing fundamentalthreefold tonesin homophonesI mourn, this morne mornhomo sapien sapiensleft the garden long ago to grow grains which rot the teethI spit out the mouthwashof grieffor did I willingly gargle this elixir?forsaking freedoms forgottenalliteration pickedas cottonmark the slavery to sedentarylifestyle we’re so quickto observe as progressprocessthat turned free people’sintoContinue reading “Kingdom Animalia”

Dimples

A coming-of-age narrative poem Little Johnny “Dimples” had a smile of warm bread. Grandma told him he’s a good boy, but, he wanted to be naughty, instead.Johnny said, I don’t want to play the goodie, I’m not a fan, I want to be Green Goblin, not Spider-Man!He kicked a can, head down, captured in aContinue reading “Dimples”

Clear as mud

Poem Forgive me if I’m wrong, my dearbut, mud is clear mirrors will shineand, smell like pine with a clear mind, cleansed in the wild free as a childwith muddy kneesamong tall treesyou can’t tell me earth is dirty she won’t hurt metwee buttercupbut, hold me up. © Darius the Mate 27-01-2022 Written for dVerse.

Late to the party

Poem Anxiety is like the gamewhich you lose when you think about the gamewe’re all playing itby any other name the alert perceptions of ones-selfare natures preservation mechanism but, when the caveman can’t run it is a prism where all your insecurities are reflected backa prisonin a disco ball peering through the crackthe party isContinue reading “Late to the party”

… in the red dress

An erotic romance poem 😘 Shiver down spine Sharp pain in sidecellmate demanding to dine- nowhere to hide – licking stubbled lips wearing a red dress blocking the doorwith a wiggling of hipsfingers go for the liverred heartshaped splatteron the floorby the shiv-er. © Darius the Mate 25-01-2022 Written for dVerse: Quadrille – a poemContinue reading “… in the red dress”

Rogets (insert [ghost] [spectre] [phantom] [wraith])

Poem Rogets ghost is restless in death collecting that, expelled with words- what’s leftmeaninghoarding breathlining up glass jars labelled so, not mistakenfloating through ethercoming together when shakentabled for the forever generationwith thanksdear fellowan apparition in ghoulish off-yellowstaring downthe great lexicographerthus styled face blackened with inkfrom word smithing long ago compiled into the first Thesaurus redContinue reading “Rogets (insert [ghost] [spectre] [phantom] [wraith])”

Mud dee mop

A nonsense-narrative poem (makes sense to me *wink*) Fo love o’ dee pub, slipping ta dee pubmake mine frothy, make eet bubowt dee castle, down dee brickseager clicks, clacks, clacks, n’ clicksKicks dee doors in, n’ av’ it up ya twisted tops, lickin’ dee liquor Fo love o’ dee pub, slumping ta dee pubswing deeContinue reading “Mud dee mop”

Care Bear

Poem I just care, a lot.I can barely bear it.Baring it all,I feel I’m notin my natural habitat.I lack the wherewithalto fightthe internalpelting frost.Bearing it all,turns me into a snowballpacked tightand meltingslowly lost. It can be difficult.- I can be difficult. In a state of tumult.I don’t mean to be grizzlyif my mood is black.WhenContinue reading “Care Bear”

Verdant

A quadrille poem Hitherto,Erato blew kisses and, I wrotebody guided on impulse.Pursuing Thalia ones lost in the woods – there lies the trouble seeking the muse in natureleaves one open to garden variety inspiration.A seasonal harvestthe fruit enduresin the morning frost. © Darius the Mate 10-01-2022 Written for dVerse. Wordplay Pathway https://nicecissist.blog

Poem by Amy G. Dala

A poem They say you can’t be in two places at once … but, here I am, in this poem, narrating, coexisting with my half-witted, half-hung-over self, writing in half-baked-prose, wholly-cogitating over the clogged sink, woefully ruminating, thick as I think, imitating a mind, and lips, moving in sync,Im alright, mate. Liar. This is yourContinue reading “Poem by Amy G. Dala”

Crucified

A poem Standing tall among my kind breathing deep the sun that shineswind, lifting limbs – unconscious mindthe slow dance of the pinesthe buzz that wakes me from belowfells me in the throes of youth humans singing let it snow wounds severed by the sawtooth with sap still sticky on their handsthey mount me inContinue reading “Crucified”

Law of ownership

A poem We don’t own shit.Give me a sandwich todayand I’ll give it back to you, the next- we don’t own shit.We don’t own money.We don’t own ideas.We can’t spell out our thoughts without borrowing language.Remember their face? Barely.Salt in water, dissolving. The taste of success fades.So too, the fear of failure. The factory ofContinue reading “Law of ownership”

Doughboy

A short rhythmic poem Knead the dough, boy dust the flouruse your knuckles let it rest knead the dough, boyneed that dough, boy feel the rhythm in your chest watching ladiesin the windowwith those dreamy boy doe eyes whispers whooshing passed the ovens keep your fingersout the pies. © Darius the Mate 02-12-2021 Wordplay PathwayContinue reading “Doughboy”

The troubadour

A Rimas Dissolutas poem The English call it a ‘French Exit’,to leave a party without a goodbye,and surrender out the door,in lieu of trading novel pleasantry,as socially conservative mercantile,prudent in saving seconds, let’s Frexit,no need for pomp, it’s not Versailles,though, I admire your buildings, Monsieur,for their historic architectural integrity,you may consider me a Francophile,you’re stillContinue reading “The troubadour”

Una vacanza romantica

A poem She waitedelegant limbs furnishing the lobbymusical heels behind the concierge He heardthe tuneful doves ambient coosaturated with charm, hovering expresso She lounged pristine pool water fighting wild fires sun dappled skin scintillated with richesHe readfull and brazenly basking in kindling rays admiring the architectural beneficence She atealone, ai frutti di mare in theContinue reading “Una vacanza romantica”

Eurydice

First poem of the year First days hop by like jumping frogs pen sits as stone club between fingerslimbs lie heavy as sleeping logswhere the smell of flash powder lingers how many pills must one swallowto cure this poets ache strummed forth by the lyre of Apolloink slithers the page as a snakechaotic are EnglishContinue reading “Eurydice”

Happy New Year

A poem Firework feet out the doorKeys tight in jeans, no janglesSplash of aftershave and a bit moreHair brushed neat, no tanglesReady to cut holes in the dance floorBoots making shapes, all angles “Happy New Year!” Over, they pour, Sky, reflecting eyes, with spangles. © Darius the Mate 31-12-2021 Wordplay Pathway https://nicecissist.blog

Battle for balance #Poem #Poetry

The blade of self doubtcuts a slit across the eyeballin which only uncertainty can fit rushing in a seditious mindyieldeda superior forceoverwhelming oddsburied beneath mudmongol thinking overruns the zen garden invading and rampaging resolve must harden deflecting a resilient mindwieldedhard as jade light as airfaithful to the bearerenvoy of the stateof mindlevitating between worldsto findequilibrium.Continue reading “Battle for balance #Poem #Poetry”

A trip around the sun

A poem He was lonelybut it was painless January came silently in the night a carbon monoxide libido pill to kill any drive he had left Women spooked himFebruary was scary he, awkward as a bad wig secluded himself to work from homewith the ghost of Valentine roses March marched in, goose steppinghe feared theContinue reading “A trip around the sun”

Owls things?

A poem Whats happening here?I’m thinking Ok, what’re you thinking?About what I’m feeling What are you feeling?I’m feeling wiseHow so?A wise man once said; “mushrooms are more nutritious when cooked”Who said that? Me Not when you’re cooked, dummywhen the mushrooms are cooked now look at you …Who?YouHoo?what was that noise?YouHoo?there it is againIt’s you, youContinue reading “Owls things?”

Homage to the muse

A rhymed Kwansaba poem A present wrapped tight with family tieschilled brandy butter on warmed mince piesnowhere else I would rather be maced stuffing from my Granny’s own recipeher voice in the steam rising skywardliving on in spirit and by wordfor all, a full belly and heart. © Darius the Mate 17-12-2021 Written for dVerse.Continue reading “Homage to the muse”

Duplicity

A poem in uncoordinated couplets noun: duplicity 1. deceitfulness. 2. the state of being double ARCHAIC. Oxford Languages At 1 years oldas babe in armssweet as cotton-candyMummy from blushed lips blewdulcet lyrical jinglesspun sugary rhymesthey purled in the the air fingers in pigeon tuffs of haira runaway trainon piston kneesso innate she stood talland proudbouncingContinue reading “Duplicity”

Pantomime season

A Quadrille poem Painted facespantomime posterclowns on the TVbread in the toasterthe country is burning“They’re behind you!”scream the proles Omicron ducking behind confusing rolesno. 10 party preppingtinsel hand-chuffsfor lawbreakers cheese and winefor lawmakersfool me once … © Darius the Mate 14-12-2021 Written for dVerse. Wordplay Pathway https://nicecissist.blog

There are days gone, and days to come

A fictional poem, in a non-fictional world 1.Days dropped away -a countdownin maddening mid December running toward some prophesied narrative where everyone is grateful in my naivety I had come to think that meant in my heart, toobut, the nativity of another unwanted child-hood trauma re-emergingrears its bald and bloody headwinter had been generous, howeverContinue reading “There are days gone, and days to come”

Word Farm

A poem Poetry to the power of three, the sun will rise and fall to theeweaned on folk tales, and oral traditionsoil rich from witch burnings, of old superstitionwe shelter beneath the gables and decaying woodrearing words for tomorrow, so we be better understood. © Darius the Mate Photo prompt, written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. WhatContinue reading “Word Farm”

Conqueror

A poem Contains distressing content, with reference to consent. Five digits on the wheelfive fiddling on his phonetexting, as he drove the white on white Ferrari, he got on loanhe rode in to save her broad shouldered, lofty upon his fair horse she was alone, drinking to celebratethe annulment of her second divorce leaning spearpointsContinue reading “Conqueror”

Mother, Wolf

A poem Wolf around my necksnarling teeth, and red army gumsprotecting in the night when the bad witch comesI call my wolf, mother for, she was there when babushka thread daisiesin my yellow hair suckled at the teatwhen the larder was stark holding her fur tight in the dark, dark, dark shes not a realContinue reading “Mother, Wolf”

Chapters too, fragment in time

A poem of parts I. II. Light, warmth, sound, darkness, cold, shape. Finger tips searching. Finding. Impenetrable shrouded shield, protecting, as muslin sentinel. Fours on the carpet. Food on the table. Food on face. Food for thought, everywhere.Hope, promise … … expectation … III. … hands up, who knows? Gold stars. Pink cheeks. Red knees.Continue reading “Chapters too, fragment in time”

Drink up

A quadrille poem Only words;tea stained crowncoronated beneath the coiled mist brown as Thames water – worn on the teeth sugarlesspurely sweet talktrading in counterfeit riches- white lies and empty promises holding out his heart to keepas jarred moonlight- gone in the morning. © Darius the Mate Doubling up: written for Shay’s Word Garden, andContinue reading “Drink up”

The nothing we know

A poem She hit him like a champagne breakfasthe felt on precarious footingas they trespassedthe mournful wallsin the hotel corridorit clutched the cigarette smoke as withering keepsakesshe surrenders leant against the doorwayshe blew smoke rings through an exotic redlassoing his dilated pupils she stole his liquorice heart an acquired taste;whether she likes it, or notsheContinue reading “The nothing we know”

Samurai in heels

A Wayra poem The slice of lemonsharpened the tip of Fridaygossip sloshed and fizzed amongst – katana lips cut deep – left red on the rim of the glass. © Darius the Mate Written for dVerse. The Wayra, popular in Peru and Bolivia, is a short unrhymed poem of 5 lines, in a syllabic structure;Continue reading “Samurai in heels”

Back to basics

A poem The door slammed shut behind herfrom an eager thrustperched upon the throneshe braced ready to let it have itlike the noble savage she isher nose upturned, pointing easttoward the squatting pans can’t fight progress she thoughtfeeling a smug airblow past her haemorrhoids I wonder if it’s all it’s cracked up to bethis civilisedContinue reading “Back to basics”

Sparkling, still?

A poem Thirsty, he took up his best crystal glassware from the cupboard ready for a mouthfulto quench the drought valuablededicatedly displayed elegantly shaped and perfectly formed delicateornately arrayed and decoratively adorned opening the fridgehe grasped a readily availablebottle of something fizzyglowing from withinon the backlit rowshe lit a skinny cigarettebeneath his eyesand hung onContinue reading “Sparkling, still?”

Day 13

A poem Day 13, since you moved back inand we agreed we’d give itus“one last shot” working from homeI’m sat in this swivel chair twitching like a downed deerperhaps it would better to put the last shot in my temple you’re across from melaptop set on your kneesheadsets drowning out the silence between usyour motherContinue reading “Day 13”

Vans gotta do

A quadrille poem Life goes off trackveering, careeningsent round the bendlosing its meaning outta shapea beaten up bangerwatching boots gather dust on the hanger Remember;when you’re feeling bluethere’s always somewhere new …a vans gotta dowhat a vans gotta do. © Darius the Mate Written for dVerse. What is life without community? I would love toContinue reading “Vans gotta do”