Still Writing ...

Some time since my last post - again;I seem to be writing in fits and starts these days. And doing far more reading. Maybe I am getting old, or maybe I am just too busy. However, I suddenly had an urge to write again last night. An urge which was generated by the purchase of a new ukulele of all things. It is actually a Cordoba branded instrument and I absolutely love the sound. (Note : the link is to the actual uke which I purchased but there is no association between myself and the company concerned)

I had been playing some of my old songs and wondering why I had stopped writing songs. The answer is guessed was because I had started writing poetry. Not a very satisfying answer because I have not written any poetry for a while. I think it had something to do with being able to express myself as a writer much better with simple lyrics than with the poetry. I decided to put this to the test and sat down to write a song using the methods I would use to write poetry. If that makes sense?

With songs, I used to play a few chord riffs until a melody came into my head. I would use simple lyrics as a "place marker" for the finished article, however much of that simple lyric often remained.

I thought what if I wrote the lyric first, and in fact I managed to put something together and when I felt ready (the lyric was not complete) I picked up the uke and started to play and sing. At some point I felt that both aspects gelled and was quite happy with the whole and managed to record a first take using my PC's built in camera.

This showed a few inconsistencies but meant I would not have to try to remember the melody / timing and then find if I did not get back to it for a few days I would need to repeat the second part of the process, i.e. the melody.

Here is a copy of the lyric with a few chord names (tentative at this stage) added for my convenience. The chords are written as capitals in square brackets, e.g. [C], [G7], etc.

BIttersweet Memories

INTRO

[C][F][C][G*][G7*]

Verse1

-tacit-

My em[C]otions are all in a mess

Should be pulling myself [F]together, I guess

Let me tell you, I want to explain

You're the [G7]reason I'm in so much [C]pain

V2

I can't see a future that's clear

The options I have bring me nothing but fear

A fear that you're leaving me soon

the sky will fall with visions of doom [C*][CM7*][C7*]

BRIDGE

[F]Memories, bIttersweet [C]memories

You [F]fill my heart with images of [C]joy [C*][CM7*][C7*]

But you [F]cut the chains,

and you [C]loose the reins

And [F]cast me down just like some broken [C]toy

V3

I just never know what to expect

Whatever I do for you, is never correct

As close as you and I have been

Anytime at all you can erect that screen

Not quite poetry but maybe poetic? I will be posting a video on line when I have got a "clean and finished copy for anyone interested. I will edit the post when it is ready.

A new Poem; Hear the waves

Phew, missed a few days, I thought my new writing phase had ground to a halt. However, it has been a very busy few weeks and needs must. No matter how much I want to write, I was just too tired. But tonight, I took a break and decided to check out a few ideas for a new offering. I found a photo which I liked and this gave me a little inspiration for a new poem. Hope you can empathise and enjoy it.

Hear the waves

Hear the crashing of the waves;

The wind blows hard, but doubt remains.

I'm lost, alone, forsaken. 

What happened, was something taken?

Something's changed, a minor shift ;

Something has changed, a mournful rift .

I find it hard to understand,

Overshadowed in this pleasant land.

But listen, who sings at the water's edge?

Could they but help, provide a bridge.

He is nought but a singer,

Creating stories that shimmer.

A fantasy narrated,

It speaks to me, awaited.

A reverie conceived,

A future, now brightly revealed

I no longer feel alone,

All along I should have known.

I no longer feel so lost,

I no longer count the cost

Hear the lapping of the waves;

The breeze blows soft, whispering my name.

Well there we are, another completed poem and I feel really happy. Still got the writing bug after all.

The Journal Jar, A Surprise Poem

A surprise because I was looking at one of Monna Ellithorpe's post on Writing prompts and she mentioned a Journal Jar. Never heard of this ; then surf over to see what it is all about.

Anyway, I had written a poem from one of the prompts offered and feeling at a loss for something to do, I though I might try another. But upoon reading the post I though, "Why not?" and proceeded to write a poem about writing a poem. Mmmm, I seem to have done that before now I think about it.

Well here it is:-

THE JOURNAL JAR

Each day I open up my journal jar,

When I find time to rest. 

I pick a slip from deep within,

To provide a little test.

Chose at random that's the key 

And write a poem upon request.

A poem based upon the prompt

Now in your hand, Just do your best.

That's all I ask, and nothing more,

Apply your writer's mind. Invest

In words, attest to deeds to come.

Or maybe even deeds repressed.

Just write, compose, transcribe your thoughts;

Don't leave them unexpressed.

Don't wait, it will work out in the end,

resulting in a poem, to leave you  most impressed.

Seems like there are days when words just flow, of course there are many days when it is almost impossible to start. Just take things as they come and make the most of the good days. Seems to be the best way to treat it, don't you think.

Thanks for the visit and hope you enjoyed the poem.

Information Overload, A New Poem

Another light-hearted piece of creative writing based on a writing prompt from Monna Ellithorpe. I do enjoy writing from a limited set of prompts, as I don't have to think, "Now which one shall I choose?" I pick the one of two or three which Monna has selected for that week and then I can concentrate on the subject matter. I find it so much more fun and easier. Lists of hundreds can be found on the internet but they simply confuse me. I suppose that I should pick a number at random and use that one but .....

 This week I read a contribution from another writing friend (before writing my own) and found it was very similar in direction to what I at first, was intending to write. So I took the hard way out and changed my attitude to the prompt - of course this is always possible. Part of the fun really.

Anyway, a little tongue-in-the-cheek attitude in what follows is not amiss in light of the research I have been involved in on the internet over the recent past.

Information Overload

As a scientist, I am used, to searching out the truth;

Information is the basis of my trade.

But so many of my friends just click a link and find, 

That truth is not always what's displayed.

Information is at hand, for those who wish to search

The problem is to know what to conclude.

It's tempting to believe simply everything you read

And forget it's information overload.

The first and easy choice may not provide that truth,

Despite it being easy to believe.

The resourceful knowledge seeker, will not presume

To find. the truth in all that he perceives

Anyone at all, can with illusions fill a screen.

Anyone can write though not bestowed

With intelligence and knowledge of the simple facts.

Take heed, reject information overload

Thanks for visiting and reading (you did didn't you?) my newest poem. I hope you enjoyed it and smiled -  just a little.

New Poem - Wild River

Well I am having such a difficult time and my poems are reflecting this, Another dark image in this one.

Wild River

I see a wild river blocking my path

I see a bridge destroyed in their wrath

I see a dark army no quarter allowed

I see myself lonely but brave, head unbowed

River Wye at Ross, photograph by the blog owner

Ahead's a wild river,  I must cross o'er

A boat is the answer, but would it be slower

Than the approaching horde at my back

The bridge is no answer; ruined, burnt and black

The Rollright Stones, The Kings Men
photo by the blog owner

I'll cross that wild river, cross and survive;

I'll summon my friends, let them know I'm alive.

My supporters will rally and help me across,

I'm not done yet, I'm no albatross.

I wont be a burden, wild river or not

But I know I need help, to cut that knot.

I'll take what is offered, no more and no less

And I'll pay back my dues by being a success.

. 

Christmas display at Wyevale garden centre

photo by blog owner

Excuse the "silly photos but this poem would not come easily. In these circumstances, I often create a photo board. Just a little trick which helps me to get the story together - sometimes.

A New Poem - Daffodil Destruction

I am usually very much against poetry that doe not rhyme. Of course when I put this view to friends and others alike, I am inundated with examples of non-rhyming examples. But today, I was in a hurry to complete a poem and found that rhymes were not forthcoming. And so, I found myself writing what I would normally call a piece of prose. OK, it is based on lines and at least it has a metre of sorts, but I feel that I have failed. It is a compromise which I am not really happy with. You might say it is out of my comfort zone but I was desperate to get out of the "Slough Of Despond" I have found myself in over the past couple of weeks.

A vase of floribunda daffs, blown down by a storm

So, aims achieved, I present a new poem. Actually I used the same prompt for this poem that I used for the poem in the last post. Of course it was a prompt which could be interpreted in a very free way. It was provided once more by my friend Monna Ellithorpe, one of her weekly writing prompts.

Make up your own mind and please feel free to criticise, or otherwise, in the comments section below. The poem is called ................

Daffodil Destruction

Yesterday, 

We had a beautiful array

Of daffodils in our garden.

People passing

Had commented on the colours,

Of the late spring display.

But that wind

Blew up fast, from out of nowhere

And kicked the best for six

The floribunda,

With their heavy heads bowed;

Were no match, and fell prostrate.

I found them,

Their heads in the dirt this morning.

Wistfully, I collected the fallen heroes.

An assignment

Beckoned, to make them proud;

A gift for a mothers grave.

   

A little more nonsense from a poetic prompt

Well now I was missing my regular weekly writing prompt due to Easter and so I turned to google this week.Well I looked at many different prompts before I found one which seemed to turn my head. It was actually about morning being the best time for magic (?) well who knew, but I added a soupcon of another prompt and this poem developed on the page (or screen as it happened).

You might know that the weather is a standard, fall-back topic of conversation for us Brits because of our wonderfully creative weather and a the fact that we are really quite reserved when meeting and talking to people. In fact I have written many time before about various aspects of the weather. For example:- A Blast From The Past,  My Poetry Takes A New Direction,  The Wind And I.

In fact just browsing thru this blog for these few examples I realise I have written more poems about "Morning" and different aspects of a new day. I find that I have sadly forgotten many; I guess I need to sort out another book of poems.

Anyway where was I, oh yes - a title? What else but, "Morning In The Rain". Not very catchy, but I always have problems with titles. Usually the last thing I do with a poem.

Morning In The Rain

Another rare morning

Spring in the air

A red sky is warning

I'd better beware

You know what they claim

The weather could turn 

A whole new ball-game

Will I ever learn

Don't trust the weather

Mom always advised

You'll find that its never

worthy of compromise

So dress for comfort

But back-up your choice

You know that you ought

To heed mom's good advice

Another thin morning

It's cool, beginning to rain

Can't stand here talking

Nice to meet you again

Well that's it, hope you liked it. Hardly cartries an earth shattering message but then that's me. Down to earth and real.

Poem - "My Dog Ran Off With The Keys"

Can't believe that I am started to write again, creatively. But having just a few prompts to choose from instead of hundreds on the majority of sites which offer to provide them seems to concentrate the mind, I would recommend it to anyone enduring "writers block" or simply a lack of time.

Try this weekly prompt, just 2 or 3 offered on the site owned by Monna Ellithorpe which will offer a gateway to many more pages by Monna.

Mmmm, this one was a lot more light-hearted than the last. I enjoyed (and found myself silently laughing) whilst I put this one down on paper, well on to the screen. Hope it makes you smile too. Oh beware the french; a little trick to make a rhyme. I do feel that rhymes are so important.

My dog ran off with the keys

My dog ran off with the keys to my car.

its true, please believe what I say.

The distance from home to here is so far,

I'm just lucky to get here today,

At all!

How on earth did it happen, you want to know.

Well, I was just letting him out for a wee;

When I happened to sneeze, I dropped the keys

and he ran off, overjoyed to be free.

You see!

My phone was inside, what was I to do?

Had to follow the dog, for sure.

Lest he lost the keys, dropped me in the stew

with no means of contacting vous,

cet jour.

So pardonez-moi, I'm here at last

And ready to do what you need.

I'm ready and willing and able if asked,

except for one little problem, this hound on the lead.

No keys, no car, no home so far

had to bring the dog!

The prompt for this piece was actually, "Make up a creative reason for being late to an important function." Don't know why this sprang into my head, we don't even have a dog these days; our last pooch passed away a number of years ago. But it did and I like the outcome. 

Until the next time ....................

And do keep on writing.

A little whimsy!

Sometimes I just feel that I have not enough time to write, and this was the case last night. I have been so busy of late but when I came across another post from my friend Monna Ellithorpe, another prompt which caught my attention on Facebook, I simply had to have a go.

This short piece came together in a very short time. No time to edit or anything like that, I just left it as it was. But boy did I enjoy the freedom not to worry about what it ended up looking like.

The prompt was to write a four line poem about your muse. Once when all lines rhyme and then again with no rhyming at all.

I put mine together and then simply had to get in another stanza to complete the poem. I enjoyed writing it, hope you can enjoy reading it.

Sir Galahad

We all have days when things seem bad,

When things go wrong and make you sad,

But never let it get you mad,

Summon up your muse, your Galahad.

We all have days we wish would end.

You’ve had enough and want to scream,

But don’t let your troubles grind you down;

Take a break, think of your Sir Galahad.

Sir Galahad, your knightly muse

Can help you through, he’ll help you choose,

Write a poem, don’t blow a fuse.

Think; if Galahad was in your shoes.

Wow it happened so quickly. It really liberated me although it is very trite and easy use of language I really enjoyed it. I experimented with limericks once (upon a time) and this seems to be on the same lines. Hope it makes you smile.

If you want to see a few limericks try this post

I'm on a roll

I hate to say it but with a second new poem so quickly since the last, could I be on a roll? This is another in response to a prompt on the same website by as the last post by my friend Monna Ellithorpe.

Not quite decided on a title yet and it is still in a rough, unedited form but I am recording it here because I am so happy to be creating again.

The Mystery Parcel

One damp and dismal morning last week

I answered a knock on the door

The postie was waiting with a parcel for me

Unexpected, exotically packaged but more ...

It did not have a full address, 

He'd done well to deliver this mail

The name was clear, it was for me alright

But this delivery could well have failed.

I gratefully took it from his hands

With heartfelt thanks and praise,

And carried it carefully to my den

Prepared to free my prize, to be amazed.

I really had no inkling, no idea at all

Of who may have sent this parcel

Addressed with such a tenebrous remit

It may never have reached me at all.

So I set about the task required, 

Not knowing what I would find.

Soon I held a simple box, devoid of any note,

I raised the lid and thereI found confined

A bundle of vintage photographs

Dog-eared and monochrome

Displaying almost familiar faces

Fondly remembered from back home

A treasure chest of memories

A prize I tightly grasped

But who and why and where

Amongst the questions yet to ask.

A few places where change is needed but it's a poem and I want to shout it out loud. Hope you read and enjoy.

More News on Published Poetry

I do seem to be spending a lot of time at the moment editing and formatting my short poetry collections for publication on Amazon in paperback format. This of course is affecting the amount of time I have for new, original poetry. But I hope this process will be completed soon (after all I don't have that many books in hand) and that I will be able to get back to writing new material.

This post is to release the news that I now have a second poetry book available on Amazon. It is actually the first in the series but for practical purposes I published the second volume first, if that makes sense.

This new collection is based on older poems which I have edited and converted from song lyrics originally written in the sixties and seventies. I am surprised that the range of topics is as wide as it is considering their origin. That is not to knock the poems but simply to state that the range of themes is wider than the usual stuff of pop-songs.

• Paperback: 42 pages
• Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform; 1 edition (29 April 2014)
• ISBN-10: 1499294905
• ISBN-13: 978-1499294903

 You can see this book on Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk or alternatively I shall let you into a little secret - keep it to yourself - for a while it can be found on Scribd for free download. Same book different cover.

The table of contents, in four sections, is as follows.

POEMS ON ENDINGS AND LOST LOVES 
SILENT LADY
SING ME A SIMPLE SONG
REFLECTIONS FROM THE PAST
YOU WERE HERE ONLY YESTERDAY
MISTER WILLOW
MEMORIES

POEMS ON ATTITUDES TO LIFE 
THE WICKED MAGICIAN   
PUT DOWN YOUR GUN   
IS THE DAY TOO LONG?   
THE WATERFALL   
PATTERNS ON MY MIND  
YOU'RE IN A RUT BOY 

A POEM
THE WIND

POEMS FOR CHILDREN   
IF ALL MY FRIENDS COULD TALK
YOUR FURRY OLD FRIENDS

 I have one more collection of poetry complete and ready for publication. I shall include details next time.

A new companion site to this blog

With the imminent release of my second book to be published on Amazon, I have decided to set-up a new static web-site to  promote any and all of my boooks which are currently in the pipeline.

The second published book (of 32 pages) will be live on the Amazon site this week.

In the book I share my experiences over the last 25 years as an amateur artist who has been helping to run a local art group. The past 5 years I have been the treasurer and now act as membership secretary and take the chair at group meetings. Although I do have support in many areas, I am working hard for the continuation of the group. I hope that this book might help thoseartists who for one reason or another cannot find a suitable group in their own location.

The web-site will be part of my promotional activities to drum up potential sales for my books, and although I will continue to post new books on this blog, I do not want to swamp my readers with continued reference/links to these publications.

For your reference the site is called "Poetry By John", not terribly original but all I could think of in a rush. Must have had an off-day, LOL

My First Volume Of Poetry, Now Available On Amazon

I have just published the first volume of my poetry, it is now available on Amazon - or at least as quickly as their system processing will allow.

I was really pleased with the proof copy of this book (32 pages) which I received over the weekend, a real "feel-good" feeling to hold the book in my hands. But I actually wrote the book some time ago and decided there were some changes which I had to make to the text that I had not really noticed on the screen. A learning point for myself there - always print and check major documents.

There are 16 poems, some short, some longer and all have short notes included which describe why and often how I wrote that particular piece. I hope this will prove of interest to readers.

Anyway, I did the editing and received the "OK to print" signal from CreateSpace. I pressed the button and am now waiting for it to appear on the site. (now available)

CreateSpace is owned by Amazon and takes you through the process for publication one step at a time. It is very easy but do be careful about images. CreateSpace says it requires images to be 300ppi. But what they really should be saying is that the images should be of a certain size. I believe it is the size in pixels whixh determines whether or not it will print. I had the same issues with Zazzle.

Anyway there it is, a paperback version of the book. I have also opened my Amazon author's page.

It just remains for me to go through the same process with my other two completed poetry books and complete the fourth. I also have two non-fiction, tutorial books available. One of these has also been through the CreateSpace process and is waiting for the proof copy to be reviewed.

It feels good to be an author at last, rather than just a writer.

A New Poem - Faded Flowers

At last I have something I can feel good about. I was writing my last post, a piece about my surname and its origin at the dining room table, and from time to time glanced up at a vase of flowers in front of me. A busy weekend meant that it had not been thrown out although some of the more delicate blooms were past their best.

before I had finished, I had a few words swirling around my head and decided that it would be worth spending a little time putting a few ideas down on paper (well on my laptop screen anyway) and perhaps keep it for future use. The next day I came across it again, and settled down to write this poem. I changed a few lines and very quickly the whole nature of the piece changed, and this poem started to come together.

I know that all the books and articles talk about editing and putting things away for awhile and re-editing but I have always been quite impatient with writing poems and lyrics. Maybe that's why I always feel that I should make changes everytime I read my older work. But Where does the process stop?

Anyway, here is the full poem as it stands:

Faded Flowers by John Dyhouse

A vase of dying flowers,

Sits on the windowsill.

Sadly waiting, bleached, forlorn

Now simply treated with such scorn

A faded memory.

I know the scent, that emanates

From across the silent room.

A cross between mown grass, and decay

At the ending of another day

A wasted memory.

A present once accepted

A gift with love and care;

But now they sit, neglected

Forgotten and rejected.

Redundant memory.

Sign of a soured relationship.

A metaphor perceived,

A troubled life, a rift

Don't let the feelings drift

Don't waste that memory.

The flowers now cannot be saved

Too late, just throw them out.

But carefully consider how

Think about your life right now,

Is it right to disavow;

retain that memory

Published My First Book Of Poetry

I have finally done it!

I struggled through the process at CreateSpace, the site owned by Amazon to publish my first poetry book. I am waiting anxiously to see a proof copy before it goes on sale.

I say I struggled, but really the process itself is quite simple however I have always struggled with the images which accompany my poems. I originally posted copies of my first three ebooks on Scribd anad made them freely available for download. I have also embedded them into posts on this blog in the past. The images did not create a problem either on line or in printed copies.

They are mostly my own photographs which are at a resolution of 72dpi, but they are large so need to be considerably reduced for the ebooks. However, CreateSpace prints books at 300dpi and so rejected the intial images. I had to create images which were reduced but by a smaller amount for the createSpace proofs. hence I want to see how they really look.

Next time it should be much easier, having understood the issues. Or I could simply publish without the supporting images, which I don't really want to do.

I have selected my second volume (as published on Scribd) to be my first on Amazon. I have my reasons. However, I will be making the Scribd ebooks available for a fee once the physical books appear on Amazon. The e-books contain 37 - 40 pages but some of that is photos and notes about why I wrote a particular poem. If you want a copy of the ebooks then head over to Scibd and download soon whilst they are still free.

I don't honestly believe I will sell many copies of these books, although there are a couple of useful non-fiction books which are already written and which I will be adding to before publishing as physical books. I have higher hopes with these.

I would love to have a decent physical copy of the poetry books in my hands however, call it vanity but I do love books and have a large library. Much to the chagrin of my long-suffering wife.

I will mention this again when I get the proof copy of that first book, so don't forget. If you are interested, head over to Scribd and download whilst still free.

A poem - Stand Up To Fear

 My photo of a statue in The Abbey Gardens at Malmesbury taken on a recent holiday. Do you know this garden was featured on TV as the home of "the naked gardener". Everyone wore clothes on thte day we were there however.



I seem to have come to another halt with new poetry at the moment, however this is one which I did not post on this blog when it was first written, this seems to be an oversight since I am quite proud of this one.

very much darker than  my usual output but all the better for that; "a change is as good as a rest", they say. Read below how it came about.

STAND UP TO FEAR

Fear assails me

Analysing my body

with frigid hands

Fear disrupts my thoughts

My brain refusing to comprehend,

should I run?

should I hide?

should I fight?

Fear, like an improbable

thief in the night

plundering my thoughts

stealing away my abilities

for decisive action

I must think

I must exploit

my remaining choices

Fear seeks to freeze

my understanding

of the real world

Fear builds upon the unknown

the unbidden becomes tangible

feeling powerless.

wait awhile

be positive

Fear may be defeated

(Fear is not all-powerful)

assert the truth

demand the right

Now an explanation of how it came about.

One Idea is sometimes called mechanical poetry. There are a number of on-line poetry generators for what they are worth. I always thought of them as a bit of fun. I have in the past actually written programs in basic to generate poems from a list of lines either in memory or from inputted data. So I have an idea how they work. But in the spirit of a little fun, I was trying one or two of these. I did find one that I thought gave passable results, and one of the offerings actually caught my attention.

I took the half a dozen lines and turned them into three stanzas of similar length. I am not sure how this really works, maybe I should have sat on it for a few weeks but I am so glad to have actually completed something other than my other relief valve, a haiku. I have to admit that I actually used a thesaurus for the first time for this poem, it almost seems like cheating but it did help to provide a couple of words which I preferred to my originals.

I think the ending is OK, but may look at it again and attempt to edit one or two lingering doubts. So here it is for now:-

More Limericks to keep

Do you remember the competition I wrote about in the last post? A Limerick competition, but one in which you need to include a word from your address as the last word in the first line. Sounds difficult? well not really just pop back and all will be revealed.

Just popping back in today to post a couple more contenders. I really am not sure that I am managing to use my address to its fullest scope - maybe I should move? However, it did get my brain ticking over again after that long lay off since christmas.

A guitarist I know out of England,
Wanted badly to make just one last stand.
He found a cool base, a drummer as well
And a vocalist who could do much more than just yell.
Then hey presto, on stage, a new rock band

BTW that's me and my fender. And a tee-shirt I designed on Zazzle, It reads Guitarists do it with their fingers. My wife tells me it has a double meaning but I don't think so - do you?  If you want to check out more Zazzle tee-shirts, try my shop 

There was an old man, lived in fair Solihull.
His brains we are told were a little bit dull.
He thought hard, he thought long,
On the words for a song
But results came to totally null

The image is the High Street, Solihull, my town . A CC image from Wikipedia (commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Solihull_High_Street.jpg)

Still hoping for more to choose from before I make a choicefor my entry to this competition.

A Limerick Competition

Have you ever had one of those days/weeks/month when nothing seems to go right. Yea, well that's been me for the past couple of years. OK, some things have worked out but every now and then I find that something has simply not worked out. Maybe I am becoming paranoid, I don't know but that's the way I feel.

Here's one very tiny and insignificant example.

Last week I bought a writing magazine, yes I do spend money on real printed magazines. Somewhere in that mag was notice of a limerick competition. It was from somewhere in Ireland (the five line poem called a Limerick is named after the town of the same name) and offered a small monetary prize for a Limerick using part of your address as the last word in the first line. As you are most likely aware, a limerick is a five line poem with a rhyming scheme of AABBA. This means that the address (part) sets the scene, as it were, for the poem. Now, my address offered a number of poor choices; I could have used a nnumber of things such as the road name, area, town, county even the country but I was not impressed by the scope offered by any of them.

Eventually, I thought that I had an idea which allowed me to overcome my doubts. I used the technique of enjambment, running the first line across to the second. This allowed me to use the two word name of the county I lived in, the West Midlands. I was rather doubtful that it would be allowed by the judges but at least it was a possibility and got me started.

A house with a mouse - by John Dyhouse

There was a young man of the West
Midlands, in fact; lived in a palatial nest
He had a fine house
with its very own mouse
but oh, what a terrible pest.

The only problem is that I was unable to find the reference to the competition in the magazine, which was in fact Writing Magazine ,  I could not even find it on their web site, so despite now having several limericks to choose from, I no longer have the details to send in my entry.

No I know it isn't the end of the world (I did say it was small and insignificant) and I will be searching very carefully to find it again but that  sums up what has been happening so many frustrations and issues have been dogging the family. But I am a half-full person so will continue to be optimistic. I have no doubt that it is in that magazine and so am sure that another page by page review will unearth it soon.

I will post a couple more of the limericks in my next post.

A Poem Based on the Fourfold Way of the American Native Indians

Flying Hawk, 

pictured in a photograph borrowed from Wikipedia (public domain)

A few years ago I attended a leadership course based on NPL techniques. One of the things we learnt about was a red indian myth, the Fourfold Way. I was totally knocked out by the course, it really opened my eyes to an understanding of myself; after wards I chose this myth to turn into a poem. One of four pieces of writing I did about my experiences on the course.

I called it The Warrior, but this title was only a working title - it stuck. The poem was actually my first which did not start off a song lyric.

The Warrior

I am the Warrior

Mine is the power

I will be there for you

Hour by hour

Think of the winter

Of frost in the air

I am the Warrior

I will be there

I see a vision

In the fire of truth

I will not judge you

There’ll be no reproof

Think of the summer

The sun is that fire

I see a vision

I’ll share to inspire

I am the Healer

I’ll attend to your heart

I’ll bring you loving

I’ll play my part

Think of the springtime

In the earth, seed we sow

I am the Healer

Together we’ll grow

 

I am the teacher

Whose wisdom is time

I teach but I learn more

Perceiving your signs

Think of the autumn

And the waters of fate

I am the Teacher

Don’t leave it too late

It is one that I had forgotten, aand found it today whilst searching the house for ssomething totally different for my wife. One good turn .......

Hope that you like it.

A New Collection Of Poetry from Artyfax

I have now caught up with the task of publishing my poetry as e-books on scribd.com. The latest collection is number 3 and brings things right up to date. I have a few very new ones which have been posted in this blog; and I have a large number of song lyrics written 1960 - 1980. I may at some stage try to get these included in a collection but I am not worried about these, most of the better lyrics found their way into volume 1.

Here is the new volume:-

Nightmare and other poems by John Dyhouse

Don't forget, if you like what you read here, you can get the free download at Scribd. Wish me luck with volume 4.