Unwell and in bed
and hanging in my darkened
room, that unwell smell.
by Scooj
Tag: Poetry
Then and now
In far away fields
I left the boy behind but
now I want him back.
by Scooj
Cousins
I thought I’d try something a bit different, inspired by some lovely poetry I read here. This is the first poem I have written since school (other than Haiku). Be gentle.
Cousins
So different were we,
I from London and you from Leeds.
I remember one time
when we went out walking,
you pointed up to the sky and cried
‘eh up, there’s kite’
I didn’t know what you had said at first.
We are not so different now
you and I,
our age has smoothed out our differences
our age has brought us closer
it is our age that now defines us.
by Scooj
Dull day
Only the crying
gulls break the monotony
of overcast skies.
by Scooj
To Dom
Tears of a grieving
mother, stained in red tribute
where he used to skate.
by Scooj
- I was deeply moved today when I met a lady roughly my age spraying a cardboard stencil tribute to Dom. I stopped to ask her who Dom was. She told me through her tears that he was her son, aged 21, who died two days ago on a basketball court. Too tragic for words. Sometimes life is just so very tough. Such sadness. As a boy Dom used to skate here at Dean Lane skate park.
http://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/wales-news/university-basketball-captain-died-after-11976867
London Underground
.
Pasty faces and
an absence of eye contact;
packed in like sardines.
.
by Scooj
Autumn
.
Her calling card dropped
without any compassion
for lingering hope.
.
by Scooj
First netball tournament
.
Full of excitement
nervous anticipation
my goal attack girl.
.
by Scooj
Killing time
.
Four minutes only
seventeen syllables to
contrive; here we go.
.
by Scooj
Last stand
This stubborn Summer
reluctant to relinquish
its tenuous grip.
by Scooj
Natural adventures 