I have made some changes to this poem as I feel the original lost course somewhere in the middle, this is due to it stirring a lot of feelings inside me when I was writing it. Anyway, hope the new version goes down well. Thanks
Nigel Smith is a superb poet and writer, we enjoy each others work very much. I recommend you check out his page if you haven’t already.
I asked Nigel if he would be kind enough to read some of my poems and he very kindly took me up on the offer. Take a listen.
I was asked by Charlie of Charliesays if I would mind recording a poem of his. Of course I said it would be a pleasure, especially as I get to choose which piece. However this being Mr Hasler’s work I had to choose two at least ! I hope you enjoy the two I’ve chosen, both powerful, both in the Hasler style and both the work of an Alchemist of word.
IT IS, WHAT IT IS
Heavy eyed I sit and stare at the departing green, Silence has fallen across summer, hushed it`s warming woven beam. Nature with a finger to mouth lowers the birds to a quieter tone, Exhaustion covers the window world, branches lose their blankets curled. Winter is approaching with all her snap and bite, To shorten the … Continue reading The Departing Green
It is not always the winning that wins the race, More the finding, understanding ones pace. Lungs will burn, legs will seize, Ankles will twist, knuckles will freeze, Eyes will stream and flow. Not everybody’s race is there to be won, It is there to be run, it is there to be done, Along … Continue reading Finding The Pace
What is this thing called life? Be it in love, be it in strife. Hearts a flutter, minds a mutter, During this swirling whirling bounding life. As often is said, with shrug of shoulders and open palms, It is, what it is. Your game may be one of luck and loss, A flick … Continue reading It Is, What It Is
We all sit under the threatening mushrooms, Fat ignorant fingers, Attached to fat ignorant hands, Hold all our fates with a buttery grip. This world is a sinking slippery ship, Held afloat, afloat by a careless oiled grip. Better minds hold their heads in dismayed hands, Our past has been forgotten, we walk on … Continue reading Threatening Mushrooms
The man stands and mumbles his words, bound by twists and tongues, The air sits trapped, his voice weighed down, Weighed down to his blushing lungs. The call he makes falls silent, No phone is there to be rang. With a domino flick, His sentence comes falling down. It happens only when the man … Continue reading Blushing Lungs
I did not turn out the man I would hope I would be, Not as brave or broad chested as some would think, Can’t handle the basics or connect the link Rage my fall-back position of choice, Trembling voice, sweated tears, Cowering boy hiding in shadows of memory fears, broken years, Lost, I wander … Continue reading (No Title)
Return the bull of charge and stamp, Crashes the china, turn down the lamp. Close the shop, pull down the shutters, Back to the grey, the flooding black gutters, Sledging, My hammer comes falling down. With a hammered crash the birds flee from top and wing stop rest, Flee from hanging branch, from sea view nest, … Continue reading Back To One
I recently got back from a holiday in Brittany France. Around 5:30pm myself and my partner would go down and sit on a small beach wall overlooking a very small beach, of which there are many similar ones dotted along this particular stretch of coastline. Out of the whole holiday that was my happiest time, we just spoke about anything and everything for an hour or so. The picture I have used in this post doesn't do it justice but this is the point where we sat.