hello all at #dversepoetpub and beyond tonights quadrille is all about summertime. hope you are all enjoying yours. the song i have included charted here in England the year i was born. and was with me through out my childhood.
Summertime.
Where have all my summers gone?
Out in the sun, out in the rain,
Running in the rain, just fun, fun, fun,
Fifty- four summers all memories,
Sun now to hot, rain now to wet,
Now out in the sun just work, work, work.
© 22/07/2024 rog leach.
https://pyscopoet.home.blog/2024/05/13/love-my-place/ a continuation!!!!
Crash and burn?
Where to crash and burn, burn and then crash!
Hotel corridor? To risky!
To many doors, To many pairs of ears.
stationary cupboard? to fleeting.
Where to crash and let desire burn, burn and then crash.
Marital Loneliness calls us to liminal spaces,
Between a need to be desired,
And social morality.
Let’s meet where desire burns and social morality crashes.
Under Covered wooden bridge,
Clandestine affair consummated,
Lies across office lunch made real.
Old relationships crash and burn. Within liminal space.
© 11/06/2024 rog leach
Good evening all. Tonight at #dversepoetypub we are writing #quadrilles including the word figment as in a figment of the imagination. FREAKY!
Black Fig-ment!
Black as the night my mood,
72 hours, Sleep deprived,
Swirls above my head.
Drugged up on being down.
I wonder what the Fig-ment?
When he spoke in my last dream.
Will I ever sleep again,
Under psychedelic painted ceiling,
Never eating Figs again.
© 10/06/2024 rog leach.
here we are at #dversepoetspub having fun with our silly words thanks Bjorn for this prompt . reminded me of this poet I wrote after my first trip to the dogs as a part of a family gathering.
Skedaddle!
(This was written after my first visit to a greyhound race meeting. Some of the words used are Loosely based on the names of the dogs’ names.)
Vacant tote skedaddles away with loot,
Westfield Eleanor going like a bullet,
Wreckit Rolo ruins his run,
Splaattt,
Winners for your two slippery rascals,
A golden wind blowing for totes.
Bombay puzzle tree felled,
By waste of space on race card 115,
Whoosh,
Romeo Wolfe beating oh so sluggish,
Wiping out the tote’s banter,
Their personal service defunct.
Race course sponsors still believe,
Fabulous glamour still lives on,
Blisterfeild Bullet taken out at last,
Kerblammy
Lemming forced rioting in the stands,
Future unsure fun memories made.
© 27/05/2024 rog leach
I have taken a pilgrimage see the Leake street Tunnels under London’s Waterloo rail station that has been on my bucket list since I first heard about them. one of a few places where graffiti art can be legally sprayed here in the UK. the photos below where taken on my visit. they are just a few of those I took.
it has been legal for street artists to leave their mark here since 2008. when Banksy organised an event there. #Banksy , #leakestreet .
so for tonight’s #dversepoetspub poetics prompt from Lisa. I have used a line from the poem Pilgrimage by Natasha Trethewey. “here the river changed it’s course”.
Leake street.
The tunnels they do beacon,
Painted walls, painted ceilings,
Painted floors, painted railings.
Here the river changed course,
Away from repression of expression,
To its acceptance of the street artist’s ability.
A pilgrimage of art,
To view an ever-changing 300m canvas,
A bastion to art since,
#Banksy festival 2008.
Take a wander, take a meander,
Through the tunnel of colour,
Stop for a bite, Stop for a pint,
Soak up the atmosphere.
Smell the spray paint, love the artwork.
© 07/05/2024 rog leach
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