The Sun and the Moon – Malika Hussain

Together they were a work of art

Special thanks to Malika Hussain for her excellent entry to the competition and Voices blog. Malika certainly has a talent for crafting verse, and we are certain you will appreciate this fantastic offering.

The Sun and the Moon

She was sun and he was the moon,

She snuck out to see him at noon,

So close but yet so far apart,

Together they were a work of art.

–

His tree was cut down, he was stuck in the past,

When she came into his life the pain didn’t last,

He was all alone with no light to guide him,

The torture tore him limb by limb.

–

Her rose was wilted, her heart was torn,

When he came into her life her heart was reborn,

She was stuck between these walls,

Trapped in her silent calls.

–

She was the sun and he was the moon,

Together they made a perfect tune,

They were worlds apart,

Yet they were together at heart.

By Malika Hussain

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.

Sunflowers – Rebecca Swan

Everyone longed for her

Many thanks to Rebecca Swan for her vibrant entry to the competition and Voices blog. Rebecca is a very creative person and writes ‘about a whole series of topics, ones that often link together in the end. Depression, anxiety, love found and love lost.’ We appreciate Rebecca sharing her poetic talents, and we are sure everyone will appreciate this vivid and imaginative poem.

SUNFLOWERS

In a field full of sunflowers,

she stood out the most.

No one could ignore her colours,

they loved her vibrance so.

In a field full of sunflowers,

she shone, she was bright.

Everyone longed for her,

even I wished she were mine.

In a field full of sunflowers,

I knew she was the one –

because in a field full of sunflowers,

they were just flowers,

but she was the sun.

Rebecca Swan, 15

My Love – Amy Gooch

wider than the skies

Amy Gooch has recently graduated from university with a Masters Degree, and we are delighted that she has kindly entered her poem into the competition. Amy found that writing poetry was an excellent creative outlet during her time studying at university. Thank you Amy for sharing your talents with us.

My Love

My Love –

warm skin

warmer eyes

–

beside my head

soft breaths

from your wide chest

wider than the skies

Amy Gooch, 21

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

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

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.