On Inspiration

Sometimes inspiration will come from the most unlikely places. Here are a few poems, all with fairly clear sources of inspiration (depending on what you know/which blogs you read).

Poem the first:

Letters from a Norfolk Sanctuary (aka. On Pretension)

Oh my dear, my egos collapse, my ego's collapse.
Traffic through my brain shatters the truth like a love banned since 1931. The thirties, what a vintage decade!
(If) I could (bear/bare) fruit then surely you, my holy prisoner, my holey prisoner, could (bear) bare (bear/brie) thyself to me.
In Norwich Cathedral my heart slowly oscillates towards my egos, towards the feminine side. The love of my fear shatters the bioluminescence.
Like that time I was trapped in a cold, heartless city like a magnet (London) which suffocates my face like a thousand.
Could you ever forgive this near expert of The Heaven, The Beast, The Miracle. It Breathes. I Breathe.
(I)
Breathe.

The next two follow similar structures (ie. to each other, rather than that one) WARNING. SOME STRONG LANGUAGE.

Poem the second:

Horse in field

Since when could horses lie down?
I thought that was cows,
Who could lie down.
Horses sleep standing up (don't they?)
Fuck you horse, who's lying down.
Fuck.
You.

Poem the third:

Puddles

I just trod in a puddle whilst penning this poem.
Fuck you, puddle.
Fuck you.


Inspiration. Done.

Two New Poems

These are poems written about two pets. Topper, the Cule family dog (and literally the best dog in the world) and Chubbs (R.I.P), my sister's hamster, but in many ways, everyone's hamster, who had a wonderful life - being owned as she was by some goths, and called Satan. My sister took her on and, due to her colossal size and my sister's fear of Satan, renamed her Chubbs. Also, if you have a topic of a poem that you would like me to attempt then please feel free to make a request in the comments part (my sister requested these two, y'see).
Enjoy.


Topper the Morning To You

With a stretch and a sniff,
A growl and a groan,
A scratch of an itch,
And he’s ready to go.
Up the stairs, to spread his hairs,
Airs his hairs, he’s unawares of
Someone creeping down to say hello to him,
Then he hears it, and he’s ready.
Take me for a walk.
But they’ve already passed.
And he must wait his time.


Dear Chubbs

Oh, hairless hamster. Despite all
You were the loveliest of them all.
Scitter.
Scatter.
Pitter.
Patter.
Creeping through your plastic home,
Sleeping, snuggled, in amongst the straw. The cloth.
Our loss.
You are missed.





Bye and that.