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Mark
Roope
To be told that you have won something is a wonderful experience and one I am not used to so to see your poetry displayed here is a real thrill.
I think we often write as a way of dealing with emotions and these thoughts form the inspiration for the poem. Our original ideas often change along the way and the finished article is probably not what we intended. This is probably truer of my poetry than most but as long as one person finds something of use within it then I am happy.
River of
Life
The young child sat cross-legged looking up to her grandma,
In a puzzled voice she said, “Tell me what you know of life so far?”
The old lady paused briefly and with a smile uttered these words,
Life my darling starts way up in the sky above all the soaring birds.
Love and dreams are combined at the one moment that is right,
To create a raindrop of life that shines and glimmers in the light.
The young child looked upwards with puzzlement and tilted her head,
“If I am that raindrop what becomes of me then?” she slowly said.
The old lady held her arm out and fluttered her wizened old hand,
With guidance and hope you gently glide down to the land,
As you grow stronger and discover curiosity you start on your way,
Trickling around the rocks of parenthood that guide you every day.
The
young child swayed her body with the journey she saw in her
mind,
Then she said “How will I know which way to go and what will I
find?”
The old lady considered the question with a frown but not for very
long,
Our paths will be decided by what we believe to be right and wrong.
Others will join and become the unstoppable rivers of teenage years,
Carving through life noisily, fast flowing, undaunted by any fears.
The young child looked down pulling at the tufts of rug upon the floor,
But Grandma she said “I don’t want to leave you for a river that will roar”
The
old
lady
laughed
and
moved
her hand through the young child’s hair,
Although you may not see us your family and I will always be there.
We will form the banks that caress you and stop you going astray,
As you get wiser we will give you the freedom and move further away.
The young child held the hand that comforted her close to her cheek,
“What will happen when the river ends” she said mild and meek.
The old lady looked into herself with a tear that welled in her eye,
Rivers do not end my dear; they do not grow old or fade and die,
They will join all those they have ever loved or lost just like you and me,
And together till the end of time we will frolic in the never-ending sea.
Top
Escape
She did not know why she was still here,
Living her life surrounded by fear,
Not daring to speak to those who care,
For knowing her punishment comes after his stare.
She had to account for each place she did go,
And disguise the bruises so they did not show,
Her life was governed by the rules that he made,
And for each infringement she sadly paid.
She promised herself when the children were grown,
She would walk out the house leaving him all alone,
She would go to a place where there is no fear,
Without looking back or shedding a tear.
In the years that past her life stayed the same,
She would fall from the tightrope and he would hit her again,
She dreamed each night and planned her escape,
From the cruelty, the controlling and the daily rape.
And in the end he found the note by the bed,
Alongside her body that was lifeless and dead,
In it she said there would be not one tear,
That she was now in a place without any fear.
Top
The Last Train
What’s in a families name given when you were born?
What consent for you to be raped and your hair shorn?
Betrayed by a nation and people they called friend,
Propaganda and hatred merely the means to an end.
The Star of David proclaimed their damnation,
No earthly power could provide true salvation.
Separated from those whom they care and love,
Praying for divine intervention from a Lord above.
Given promises of hope that was meant to deceive,
Crammed in freight carriages for what they believed.
Sixty men were confined to each coffin on iron wheels,
The doors were padlocked and their fates were sealed.
For endless days and nights the train rattled on,
The meagre food supplies long since gone.
The stench of stale urine mixed with that of death,
Destroyed all dignity of those who still drew breath.
God’s tears pounded on the corrugated ceiling,
Giving proof if needed of what he was feeling.
The wailing and screaming had all but abated,
Consigned to their destiny and now they waited.
Herded like cattle to the sound of a killer dogs bark,
Stripped of their clothing and given a tattooed mark,
Was the handful left fortunate to survive the last ride?
Or had God intervened for the thousand's that died?
Top
I Will
I will kiss her said the lips with a passion not yet seen,
I will take her said the tongue to a ecstasy she has never been,
I will caress her said the fingers in her place of desire,
I will whisper words of passion said the voice to set her on fire,
I will hold her said the arms with an embrace made from love,
I will walk her said the legs under the moonlight from above,
I will love her said the heart and show her fervour undying,
I will keep quiet said the conscious cause I know you are lying.
Top
Submission Guidelines:
Poems of no more than 30 lines in length each will be
considered.
Post your poems to
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Remus House, Coltsfoot Drive, Peterborough PE2 9JX (Write your name and
address on each piece of work you send)
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