Senses of Music – Steve Fordington

Music harmonises the universe

Steve Fordington is a North Norfolk poet, lyricist, musician and teacher. He has written poetry all his life as well as playing and teaching several instruments. He is an active member of a Norfolk poetry circle and regularly performs in bands, groups and orchestras. He has published many compositions and was a schoolteacher and manager for nearly forty years.

Senses Of Music by Steve Fordington

Music – you can’t touch.

Yet music lets you feel.

It’s from imagination.

Yet music is so real.

Music – you can’t taste.

And yet it stirs your soul.

One note, one chord, a passing phrase

Brings back what memory stole.

It helps recall the sights,

The smells and raw regrets.

It fixes a moment frozen –

A diary point time forgets.

For music is our backdrop,

Our wallpaper of being.

Our collective inspiration

Of loving, knowing, seeing.

Its entity exists alone,

Away from instruments and scores.

No crowded media imposed,

Nor locked away indoors.

And like an everlasting strain

Of all life meant and more,

Music harmonises the universe

For futures gone before.

Steve Fordington, North Norfolk

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.

Lost – Alex Rogers

I need to tear myself apart and make a fresh start

We are very appreciative of Alex Rogers’ decision to share ‘Lost’ with us. Alex views poetry as a medium to potentially reckon with life’s difficulties, as well as being a ‘tool to bring light, relief, entertainment to all.’ Thank you Alex for your support.

Lost

A poem about escaping to find yourself by Alex Rogers.

I used to say all I knew was fight, turns out I’m having a crash course in flight.

I didn’t have time to pack much, just some tees, shorts, my passport, and what was left of my mind … or so I thought.

Who would have known how far I would go to cast the only life I have known, like a stone, into the unknown.

And fuck knows how many steps I’ve done because the battery in my Fitbit’s gone, just like my own. But I push on.

So I ran, took a flight, travelled by night, all out of fight. A one way ticket was all I could afford, fuck it, all aboard.

So far I have travelled by plane and foot, not knowing if I was still sane or not.

Two policemen on the plane, fucking idiots pretending they’re psychologists. They dragged me off, assessed me, said “you look sane”. I laughed, they let me past.

But little did they know of my pain cos I hid that shit, buried it in stone like a geologist. So tired of this.

It’s so well hidden, don’t know if I can even find it myself, hence this mission.

And now I’m here by the sea, trying to find a piece of me, and start my recovery. I need to tear myself apart and make a fresh start. Don’t know how, don’t know what happens in the next part.

But what’s the reason for all this anxiety, I don’t know, I’m overwhelmed by reality.

I need to get to the bottom of my perplexion, find a new connection.

With the woman who’s been there through thick and thin who thinks I’m drinking and partying, when really I’m just looking for the end of the string which leads my way back in.

I’m lost, like the end of the sellotape. Going round and round causing me to frustrate. So close to giving up, all because I fucked it up.

Couldn’t even switch my own lights out, tried that and where did it get me? Fucking A&E, alerting services, risking my family.

I’ve spent so long working on my physical, but I still lack the skills to work on my cerebral.

And that’s not the only skill that I’m lacking, where’s the caring, the warmth and the empathy I should be packing?

So much drive, so much focus and ambition. But it’s all been pointed in the wrong direction.

I realise now but is it too late? I’m trying to clear my plate, redirect my fate and claw my way back through all the hate.

I’m lost, with a fragile mind state.

Alex Rogers

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.

Round and Round – S Bee

Now the bag has another owner

Many thanks for S Bee for her fantastic entry to our competition and blog. S Bee is very passionate about writing and poetry, and her work frequently appears in publications. She also runs an email writing group. Find out more at: w ww.sbee.orgfree.com We really appreciate her kind decision to support the Voices project.

Round and Round

Millie gave a bag to her daughter in law

She’d had it too long, it held no flaw

Tracey hated it, so donated

The charity shop were so elated

–

Jude loved vintage, it was her thing

Bright colours and a bit of bling

Jude so liked the low price tag

And thought to herself, ‘I’ll have that bag!’

–

She was such an impulse buyer

but the bag’s colour didn’t match her attire

So off it went, to another charity

Could it be sold for fifty pee?

–

The shop’s manager took it instead

She liked the hue, a strong deep red

But it got stolen on a long train ride

The bag was empty, so she didn’t really mind

–

The train cleaner sneaked it home

He could sell it to pay off a loan

He’d try to flog it at the big car boot

Perhaps it was worth a lot of loot?

–

Jack picked up a bargain that day

A bag for his wife, not a lot to pay

Pat put it on an auction site

It sold very quickly, in fact that night

–

Now the bag has another owner

A sixty- something Scot called Shona

In another month or two

This bag will pass – to me or you?

S Bee, West Yorkshire

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.

Island – Alexandra Smith

On my island of dreams I can hold you tighter.

We appreciate Alexandra Smith very kindly sharing her creative talents with us. Alexandra finds all forms of writing to be a ‘wonderful form of self-expression.’ She also enjoys performing with local drama societies, running a writer’s group, and producing exciting new artistic projects. Thank you Alexandra for helping us with this project and for entering the competition.

The Island

The grass is greener

and the birds are louder,

on my island of dreams

you’re at my side, with a piña colada.

–

The sun is brighter

and the breeze is nicer,

on my island of dreams

I can hold you tighter.

–

The sand is softer

and the food is sweeter,

on my island of dreams

there is only forever.

–

The clouds are whiter

and the place is tidier,

on my island of dreams

my inner self is lighter.

–

The journey has been longer

yet, I have grown stronger,

my island of dreams…

–

is on the border.

Alexandra Smith, 25, Derbyshire

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.

Expression – Lee Kelly

Why can’t I stand loud noise, Or lead my own life

Special thanks to Lee Kelly for sharing ‘Expression’ with us and for his support with the competition and project. Lee is very passionate about poetry and writes about a variety of topics. We really appreciate his brave decision to share his work with us.

Expression

Anxious and asexual,

I am just like you on the outside,

White, British, mildly overweight,

And yet I express something else.

–

Colourblind and depressed,

It’s my eyes that don’t work,

My brain is why I’m not happy,

And yet I express something else.

–

Stressed and suicidal,

I feel overwhelmed by life,

I want everything to end,

And yet I express something else.

–

Traumatized and oppressed,

Why can’t I stand loud noise,

Or lead my own life,

And yet I express something else.

Lee Kelly

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.

Hindsight – Matthew Trundle

Recurring characters that have long since Departed

Thank you Matthew Trundle for his contribution to Voices. Matthew is based in Bolton and is an aspiring screenwriter who has recently completed his A-Level studies. He is particularly interested in comedy writing, as well as poetry, and also volunteers for a local swimming club which assists people with learning disabilities. We really appreciate Matthew giving up his time to share his talents with us.

Hindsight

In dreams I live in tainted memories,

In apparitions of my former reality

But with even more tonal inconsistencies in

A skewed representation of my past self in an

Alienating non-linear format that

Pushes me into inescapable delirium where I

Exist as a bystander to absurd plots and

Recurring characters that have long since

Departed from the real-life narrative that feels

Unobtainable in this confounding dreamscape that

Reminds myself of when I often opted to

Pursue grand acts of hubris, and in crimson halls

Innovative takes on recent mistakes premiere to the

One viewer who can’t ever look away

From this special feature, and who must endure each bizarre

Yet melancholic act in whichever

Order they choose to appear in

Whilst already knowing the bewildering denouement

That arrives in typical anti-climactic fashion while I’m

On the precipice of waking to be

Rid of this routine while world stands alight

Momentarily.

Matthew Trundle, 19, Bolton

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.

Yesterday – Joanna Hall

But my pores are clogged with dirty traumas

Thank you Joanna Hall for your decision to submit your poetry to Voices and the competition. Joanna is intrigued with Slam poetry, enjoys creating verse in her spare time, and is also a keen blogger. We really appreciate her kindness and support.

Yesterday

I take a sauntering step in a misshaped mishmashed dream,

I write because I’m unsure of what it means,

With an ancient smile on a quaint face concealing a tongue,

The maps that trace me shudder in wrongs,

But my pores are clogged with dirty traumas,

And my confusion continues to grow warmer,

Sand begins building,

And the castle is feeding,

With waves,

That crash weak yellowed veins.

Joanna Hall

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.

The Sea Creature – Rihana Jenkinson

They say the ocean is a lonely place

We all marvel at the mysteries of the sea, and we are very appreciative of Rihana Jenkinson’s eloquent entry. Rihana is very passionate about poetry and was keen to support her project. Thank you for your fantastic poem!

The Sea Creature

She floated like a water lily

On the moon’s silver stream

Crystalizing all to be seen.

Enchanting is her smile

Bewitching us for miles.

Slimy seaweed withered as she passed

Nymphs danced in a sacred trance.

And a frightening wind blew across the sea

Thundering a storm for all to see.

Ships rose on the huge waves and came crashing down.

People from the shore heard her grieving.

A veil of happiness shone through her tears

As she searched across the ocean for a single song.

They say the ocean is a lonely place

But what song was she searching for through that wide wide sea.

By Rihana Jenkinson

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.

A Picnic in the Park – Maryam Bouteldja

Delicious scents waft through the open park air

Special thanks to Maryam Bouteldja for her vivid and thought-provoking poem about a picnic in the park. Maryam is a sixth-form student who is very passionate about the arts and enjoys penning poetry in her spare time. She hopes to write and travel in the future and we really appreciate Maryam’s decision to share her talents.

A Picnic In the Park

The chequered blanket billows out

– stretching far and wide,

then flutters

down

to settle upon crispy, dry grass.

The bustle begins:

excited chatter hurried the many hands
drawing the spoils of war
from containers galore.
Delicious scents waft through the open park air

and the sun shine on in envy
from the cloudless sky.
Shoes are thrown from sweaty feet

and seek solace in the shade of
withered pine trees.
The feast awaits…

Maryam Bouteldja

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.

The Bubble – Oliver Purvis

the remnants of the dream drifting away

Many thanks to Oliver Purvis for his fantastic entry to Voices and the competition. Oliver is a Biomedical Scientist who lives in Cornwall and has recently rejuvenated his interest in poetry. We are very appreciative that he has decided to share his talents and we are sure you will enjoy reading ‘The Bubble’.

The Bubble

Air in water, expansion,
wobbling undulation
subsiding, equilibrating,
pressure equalising,
minimum surface area
for the enclosed volume.

The sphere – pure geometry,
defined by its boundary,
the non-space interface
where gas and liquid meet;
four-dimensional reality
enclosed by an abstraction.

Inside, continuous concavity,
a life of literal introspection,
centrally focussed, her inward gaze
barely distracted by fleeting fisheye
images beyond her outer limits,
spectral shapes shifting in darkness.

Occasionally she would wake,
trembling, the remnants of the dream
drifting away, recalled to the
deepest fathoms of unconsciousness:
the breathtaking, backwards-curving
thrill of being an Outside.

It was almost overwhelming.
Still, a part of her yearned
to know such an existence,
to commune with such a being;
a primal urge emanating
from her fundamental structure.

Unbeknown to either,
her longing was mirrored
in Outside’s ardent fantasies.
He observed the world with wonder.
Marvels in every direction,
but Inside he could never know.

Embryonic intimacy;
perfect lovers’ symmetry;
total interdependency.
Antithetical; inextricable.
Divided by nothing,
a universe apart.

Oliver Purvis, Cornwall

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.