Fragments – Amy Larsen

Staring at my reflection in her shattered glass

Thank you to Amy Larsen for deciding to contribute her powerful poetry to both competition and blog. As Amy explains, she likes ‘to write poetry about struggles that people can relate to, to encourage empathy, because ultimately we all have more in common than we think.’ We appreciate Amy sharing ‘Fragments’ with us.

Fragments

I judge the broken girl and hand her my hate.

–
Staring at my reflection in her shattered glass,

I wonder why my heart hurts,

–
It is not her that I hate.

Amy Larsen, 18, Buckinghamshire

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation. Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.

Classical – Ravinder Johal

everything within me has been released

We really appreciate Ravinder Johal’s decision to share ‘Classical’ with us. As Ravinder explains, the poem illustrates both her love of music and ‘how performing is a truly unique, euphoric experience, and the overwhelming emotions involved in every performance.’ Ravinder is currently studying at Sixth Form, and is a very creative person. Visit her blog at: mytakeonthis1.blogspot.com. Thank you again Ravinder for supporting our project.

Classical

I take the bow between the tips

of my fingers,

pressing down hard on the strings

as I try not to cry,

try not to feel too much,

try to dumb down my feelings

into a spark,

and try to channel that spark

as I sway, left to right,

playing solo violin for once in my life –

the applause shatters me.

I well up, give up, give in –

everything within me has been released,

and with a rush of euphoria,

I say,

‘I have nothing to give, and nothing to take:

that’s just how it goes,

when you’re in love with the music you make.’

Ravinder Johal, aged 17

Allotted Space – Stephen Kingsnorth

Allotment place, working men’s club

We appreciate Stephen Kingsnorth’s fantastic contribution to the blog and competition. Stephen resides in North Wales and is now retired from Ministry in the Methodist Church. He has a passion for poetry and we are very thankful that he has decided to share ‘Allotted Space’ with us. Thank you Stephen.

Allotted Space

Black fish nets drape where canes are lashed,

discarded tights suggest worn through,

all day is worked to sunset strip,

for irrigation butt is filled,

no handcuffs, yet old bedstead, notched,

silk sheets, down pillows, dreams long gone,

the knots and ties and metal rings

near leather thongs and magazines.

Compost-making pages featured last,

with promises of bone meal soon.

To puff the pipe, though do not smoke,

while listen battered wireless hum,

not radio. I want no drink,

here no release, though thermos cup

reminds of how it used to be.

I note the greenfly over there,

aware no borders weed seeds care;

the customs post, a long pea row,

where tax free excess rhubarb share.

Allotment place, working men’s club,

some clubfoot there, but growth is good,

and unexpected bloom appears.

Stephen Kingsnorth, 63, Wrexham, North Wales

Spring – Barry R Carter

An owl sketches itself into spring’s self portrait

Many thanks to Barry R Carter for his splendid representation of spring. Barry is a passionate poet who very kindly decided to contribute to our project. We are sure you will enjoy reading his work.

Spring

looking into a mirror inside a watchtower

–

winter plays solitaire, outside trees are weighed in the dark.

Leaves are like keys, clouds thieves rinsing winter’s residue.

On a branch a bird raises a single wing to make contact -scattered applause of butterfly wings for the first act of spring.

–

Children’s eyes are like bees as they play on a park,

at night as they dream the moon raises noises from the day out of pond waters,

honey drips from the fingers of spring into the

mouths of winter’s daughters-guide the sound

to it’s source children’s eyes open with the

flowers purse for the bee.

–

An owl sketches itself into spring’s self portrait

before it’s claws rip through the canvas to catch

it’s first kill-making visible briefly time’s unresting

anvil. Blades of grass are anchored delicately,

as the soil labors imperceptibly, waters weave

as co-authors, newly born frogs breathe, as

waters exhale.

Barry R Carter, Hull

Floathing – Stephanie Davies

I will paint myself with candle wax

A special thank you to Stephanie Davies for her entry to the competition and blog. Stephanie originally hails from Australia but now resides in London. Her work has appeared in Glitterwolf, Vagabondage Press and Girls Who Fight. You can follow her on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/Stephanie-Davies-117332854945614/ and on twitter here: https://twitter.com/hellofditties

The vividness of my
   self loathing;
   its originality – I am the prodigy again, though
I am not the first person
   to have ever    hated   me.

   I will paint myself with candle wax
’til it is a thick and white chrysalis
   I can slip from, leaving behind
   some skin cells,
   fragments of my makeup,
       the imprint of the hair near my navel.
I will hang it
   high
       like an empty white piñata,
   loose the rope and watch it fall
           to meet the concrete beneath.

   I am Samara from The Ring – but upright, not crawling;
       and not black and grey, but red;
   and not blood red, but a vivid red, like a crab –
   and I am spindly and sharp
   and emitting a creaking sound
   and taking up the whole hallway.

   Ugly ugly ugly cloud of venomous roiling sulphuric acid bile,
       bottled,
           stoppered by the cork of my blonde hair.

Stephanie Davies, London

A Common’s Affair – Alexander Bickley

his words to evoke back the horrors of war

Thank you to Alexander Bickley for his kind contribution to the blog and competition. Alexander is from the North Yorkshire Dales and cites poets such as Edward Thomas and Ted Hughes as influences. He is a keen poet and has been previously published by ‘Young Writers’.

A Common’s Affair

If I were to hold beauty in the palm

of my hand – as a pebble lodged between

my forefinger and thumb, then dropped at arms

length. It would fall, black as coal on the line

at Adlestrop Station; it would half stain

the wet grass of the country, rubbing off

onto my fingers like mud in the rain.

The rain that fell on Edward sailing off

to France in that uniform Helen spoke

of – her lover, her poet, now Khaki

as a soldier, with his words to evoke

back the horrors of war. The shade of a tree

by the flower beds. An imitation

of the ‘Common, and beds of the station.

Alexander Bickley, aged 18, North Yorkshire Dales

Mesmerized by a Bumblebee – Martyn Leroy

This little ball of fuzz, whirling like a whirlybird should

Thank you to Martyn Leroy for his powerful and topical poem. As Albert Einstein once said… if bees go extinct, the human species will follow soon after. As well as being a talented poet, Martyn loves comics, professional wrestling and Japanese animation. He is ‘firm believer in originality, imagination and raw emotion when it comes to creative and artistic endeavor’. We really appreciate Martyn’s kind support!

MESMERIZED BY A BUMBLEBEE

Out in the Spring

A ridiculous thing occurred to me one day

Out of the blue

A bumblebee flew, pollinating flowers on the way

–

Soothing as it was

This little ball of fuzz, whirling like a whirlybird should

Settled on the path

Short and out of breath, so I put him on a branch of wood

–

Nectar he found

Weighing him down, maybe it’s the speckles in his fur

I put him in the grass

Where feet won’t pass or someone’s saddle is a burr

–

Air turns cold

Day has been sold; his colony’s been waiting for a while

Bumblebee then

Started to ascend in aposematic style

–

He’ll return

His Queen will learn of his saviour and knight

And maybe soon

One Harvest Moon, they will see me alright

–

Happy little drones

Enterprise zone, Wheel of Nature goes round

Apidae

To drink and fly, as long as you don’t fall down.

Martyn Leroy

Magic – James Green

Don’t want to say goodbye

Many thanks to James Green for his excellent poem about magic. We are sure it will transport you away to a mystical mysterious world, and we enjoyed reading it very much. James is a pupil at The Joseph Whitaker School with a fantastic way with words. Well done James and thank you for your support.

Magic

Looming trees,

Glistering sands,

Buzzing bees,

All in front of my hands.

Shock in my eyes,

Amazed at the sight,

Don’t want to say goodbye,

Want to stay here all night.

Taking pictures on my phone,

Colourful birds flying above my head,

This marvellous place is my home,

It’s like something I’ve read.

This place is the best,

It’s the contrast of tragic,

It allows me to rest,

It feels like magic.

By James Green – a Year 7 student at Joseph Whitaker School.

The Magic of a Book – Grace Cook

A whole world of enchantments, mystery, spirits and mages

A very magical poem from Grace Cook of the Joseph Whitaker School, and we really appreciate Grace’s decision to share her poem with us. Grace is a passionate reader and loves books. This certainly shows in her tremendous poetry, and we are sure everyone will enjoy reading ‘The Magic of a Book.’

The Magic of a Book

The first page turned

Utterly captivated

Transported to a world of magic and wonder

Of dragons and fairies

Of witches and spells

A world where the plaguing troubles of your own are lost

Where new happiness and friendships are found

A way to escape

A way to be free

A whole world of enchantments, mystery, spirits and mages

All enclosed in the pages of a book

Grace Cook, Year 7 Pupil at Joseph Whitaker School, Nottinghamshire

Magic Poem – Noah Edmunds

The master of music Ludwig van Beethoven

Many thanks to Noah Edwards for sharing this superb poem about the musical magician Ludwig van Beethoven. Noah has crafted a clever and imaginative poem for the blog and competition which we are sure everyone will enjoy reading. We appreciate you sharing your work with us Noah.

Magic Poem

The magical letters of e d# e d# e b d c a fill my heart with joy.

The song shall fill yours too.

All you need is a piano and 5 fingers and you can play the deaf angel’s song.

The master of music Ludwig van Beethoven , Beethoven the master of music

Master of magic.

By Noah Edmunds, Year 7 Pupil at Joseph Whitaker School, Nottinghamshire