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Keith
Thomas
A
Featured Poet from Poetry
Now Magazine
'Silently weaving its way -
Through tapestries in meadows green
Beneath the egg yolked sky.'
According to my dear mother and confirmed by my father, I was found under a gooseberry bush in February 1951 in Welwyn Garden City. (Not that I believe them! I know I'm really only 21.)
I then went to infants school, where I thought I only had to attend for one day and that I could then get on with the rest of my life, only to be disappointed to find out that wasn't the case!
That was followed by junior school, where finally by the age of eight I learned to read properly at last, when it suddenly all fell into place when by chance I came upon a poem entitled 'Moses Supposes'.
This was followed by my secondary education where I went on to receive such accolade as (he could do better, he doesn't try hard enough!)
On leaving school I had a variety of jobs, (on my way to changing the world that was) ie springmaker (nothing to do with changing the seasons) glassblower, diesel fitter, Royal Mail (not that I have big ears, you understand).
I am currently working for 'Hertfordshire Action on Disability' in 'The Easier Living Exhibition' (always an exhibitionist at heart) where I deal with people's enquiries ranging from ordering items for them to hiring out wheelchairs, sending out information etc!
I started writing songs and learning the guitar in 1969/70.I wrote my first manuscript of poetry in 1977 without success. (It seemed the teachers were right).
My next effort at poetry was in 1996 after getting my first poem published in one of PN's anthologies, (seems the teachers could be wrong). The poem was entitled: 'Say Hello To Jodie' and I haven't looked back since. (What was I saying about teachers?)
To date I've had two books of poetry published. (What was it I said about teachers?)
'The Good-Bye Days' ISBN 1 901031004 and 'Shades Of Grey' ISBN 1 901031 2. The two books raised over £1,500 for local charities.
My third book, 'Beneath A Mono-Moon', is due out in the coming months.
Harvest moon
Upstream the salmon spawn -
Spermatozoa blows its brain.
The Harvest Moon looks down -
And smiles a knowing smile.
Life noveaux - the seed now sown -
Lies beneath the shifting sands.
Pre-destined to return - dancing -
To their place of origin;
To their sure demise -
Rotting flesh, sacrificial and opaque.
Scavengers, lick clean to the bone -
The uncertain harvest now assured.
Butterfly
I saw a butterfly -
Gliding on the summer breeze.
Like gossamer - gently floating -
Tenderly drifting into my open hand.
I slowly turned and looked away.
A moment passed and it was gone -
Carried away on freedom's sweet breath.
Silently weaving its way -
Through tapestries in meadows green -
Beneath the egg yolked sky.
Sweet
Dreams
In the sweet shop
The young boy stands alone -
Not a soul in sight.
Everything his young arms can carry.
Suddenly the bell rings -
The alarm bell?
No! The alarm clock.
Sweet dreams young man -
Sweet dreams.
TV
Times
9.30pm as silent as a morgue.
Two people sitting in a room
Not even the tick of a clock
To stir them from their awe-struck pose.
Their eyes stare blankly, almost vacant,
Slowly moving across the ceiling -
As if in a state of shock.
Like a Saturday night drunk on a Sunday morning.
No swig or tot to comfort them
In their hour of great need.
No soothing words will help them
Forget the anguish of the past few days.
'They'll just have to get the Tele fixed'.
Black
Hole
It's in the early hours
You think of her the most,
The girl with the Half Moon Smile -
The one with the Stars in her hair.
She passed this way long ago -
To travel the Cosmos.
Tiptoeing the Galaxies -
Like stepping stones.
A love without end -
You see her Universe.
Feeling the Black Hole -
She left in you.
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