A Poem - An Empty House

There is a time when because of a reason which you have no control over, yo may have to part with the house, the home, that you grew up in. Recently I was affected by such a happening and I wrote this poem inspired by the feeling which I though were appropriate.

An Empty House

Once full of life and laughter

Now empty and forelorn;

The house that I grew up in

Is left behind, foresworn.

Time marches on I know that;

And time cannot be stayed,

But now I leave that empty shell,

Knowing memories will fade.

Faded but not forgotten;

I will remember all

The good times, and the bad times

Family ties will ever call.

Call to me across the years

Wherever I may roam.

To help me live a better life,

And build my own sweet home

One home decays and gathers dust

One will be fresh and new

But I will be the link between

Them both, for me and you.

For life goes on and I will grow

In stature as I age,

Developing a life anew;

And write another page.

So weep not for that empty house,

Which I had once called home.

For love creates new memories,

To share when we’re alone.

This is another poem written for the poem-a-day project. This did not come easily and was not mapped out at the beginning. The rhymes simply led me from one line to another, often writing across the verses.

Thanks for reading.

Avalon, a new poem from Artyfax

Glastonbury abbey (public domain)

AVALON by john dyhouse

If you should visit Avalon

That Fair Isle in the west,

You’ll find King Arthur’s Spirit there

Though’ he, long since laid to rest.

It lives in every tree and hill,

In every path and stream.

It’s magic, strong and welcoming

To every man who dreams.

Inspired and rested, travel on

But know you will return.

For the mysteries call out to you,

“Come back, take heed and learn”.

The Abbey, Tor, and Chalice Well

Are three sites you will know?

But the Spirit lives most everywhere;

Through all time, in ev’ry place you go.

Here, find yourself or find a cause

That you can make your own.

Just bind yourself to Avalon

And answers sought, shall to you be shown.

So should you visit Avalon?

That fair and magic Isle;

Take heed and give yourself a chance

To stay and rest awhile.

This was written after a weekend spent away from home. A chance to relax after a very difficult and busy start to the year. Glastonbury ( known for many things other than the pop festival) is a lovely town associated with hippies, new age and eastern religions. But there are a number of christian churches and congregations there also.

Back With A New Poem - A new day

It has been a while since my last post, I have been enjoying the environment at Bubblews. It is an income sharing site which allows posts on any subject (with the usual limitations to keep it family friendly) and will accept anything from 400 characters to full length articles. If you are used to submiting articles to this sort of site, you will miss the formatting which you are probably used to but a new version is promised on this new site over August.

It is growing fast, not least because it shares 50% of advertising revenue with the writers (aka bubblers). It is a cross between a social media site (and interaction on the site is also paid) and an article writing site, which explains the wide variety in posts accepted. Check out a few of mine from my Bubblews profile page, I write more than many bubblers but many are beginning to understand about the concept of getting views from google and a passive income. Not conducive to internet marketing! No affiliate of referral links are allowed.

I am currently making $50 per month, although the potential is for much more. The only question is how much time you want to spend making money. It is probably the site with the fastest rate of potential earnings that I have seen. On many of the sites paying for views, monthly rates are less than an order of magnitude smaller than this.

But to the main reason for this post - I am back! I will be posting on this blog again. I have had fun on Bubblews but do want that little extra freedon of writing on my own (?) blog.

So without further ado, A poem written since my last post (and there have been one or two), my dry period seems to have been overcome, although I am wary about making claims about this, so enough said.

A new day - by John Dyhouse

A blue sky
A great sky
A what am I going to do today sky.

The sun's out
No clouds of doubt
Obscure the warming rays, so put the flags out.

I feel good
Of course I should
A day like this inspires all hearts not made of wood.

A day to live
A day to give
A day to gather hope and just be positive.

A little tiff
Then make a gift
Settle that argument don't dare to think, "what if... ?"

A new day
A new way
So show your grateful thanks without more delay.
 

And if you are interested, I am almost ready to compile poems written over the last 12 months onto a new e-book. My first collection of poems from my early days of songwriting, yes they all started as song lyrics, is already available from Scribd as a free download. I may chance my arm and actually charge a small fee for the new volume. Now that is something new!

Helpless, a new poem

It has been some time since I managed a poem of any length and this one came out of the blue, a complete surprise.

it is not in my usual style, no rhymes, no rythm and lines of different length; it came about after a problem with my son who some time ago suffered from viral encephelitis and we were unsure wether we would lose him for several days.

But out of his suffering, I found that I could work out my own feelings of sorrow and almost utter helplessness to help him as I started writing this poem. I have only just finished typing it from my notebook, editing as I typed so it is still in a state of flux and may change but I wanted to post it as it stands because of what it means. Hope that you like it.

HELPLESS – by John Dyhouse

When someone you love

Hurts so very much

And nothing you do can ease the pain

You feel so very helpless

As youngsters a hug, or a kiss may help

But life can deal some tragic hands

Which can’t be thrown-in or the cards exchanged

Makes you feel simply helpless

Several days in critical care

In a coma on life support machines

What can you do, wait and pray

Feeling so alone and helpless

Thank god for the nurses and doctors

Battling to save the life of our son

Thinking the worst but hoping for more

You feel so uselessly helpless

In time the virus is beaten, the battle is won

And now we await for results

What damage will show as the patient awakes

Oh Life makes you feel so helpless

Good news, all motor skills still seem Ok

No physical side effects lurk

But as time passes will we start to see

A sting in a venomous tail

Tiredness, fatigue, those invisible foes

Make life a hard battleground

Anxious, depressed and nothing can help

You feel so achingly helpless

You feel the pain and see the tears

The struggles of everyday life

You offer your help but nothing’s enough

You’re just so saddened and helpless

Though life must go on and we learn to adapt

It doesn’t make living it easy

When people can’t see the pain in your heart

And don’t understand how their action can hurt

You feel so incredibly helpless

My first collection of some older poetry.

I have pulled together some poetry from the 60's and 70's and published it as my first collection on Scribd. It is available for free download on that site.

Poems on Endings and Lost Loves by

Mechanical Poetry to overcome writer's block

Yes I am still suffering from this infliction.

I have found another web-site which offers help for poets suffering in this way. OK, so we have all seen many sites which offer prompts galore - does this help? I have even posted prompts and sources in previous posts but I am not sure it has been helping me that much. As I said, I am getting ideas to work on but it's carrying them through to more than fragments -to a complete poem.

Now that is patently silly because even a Haiku is a complete poem, so what do I mean? I am not expanding the ideas to longer poems I guess and this is bothering me. But hold on, before carrying on let me share a few more Haiku.

Wind chill factor high

The Beast from the East arrives

red warning of snow

(note: a red warning from the met office is issued when dangerous levels of snow are forecast)

Ignored totally

morning, get up, go to work

back home, silence reigns

Newspaper healines

full of bad news to annoy

answer, don't buy them

Newspaper headlines

designed to sell more copies

create frustration

Nespaper headlines

can they ever be believed

read between the lines

(what makes you think it was a good day for the newspapers)

Now, back to the main theme of the post. I have found a web-site which describes a creativity game for writing poems. I have been working on something similar for creatiing abstract art and so was attracted to it. The site, "Dial-a-Poem", also describes one or two ideas for writing poetry which it describes as mechanical poetry. I shall be trying out these ideas, hopefully more helpful than working to simple prompts.

watch this space I will let you know how I get on.

Descriptive prompts for poetry

It has been a quiet week for me this week, so I searched for creative writing prompts and found these on Creative Writing Now. A short list of descriptive prompts follows:-

1) the first signs of spring

2) your house late at night

3) someone who annoys you

4) what it's like to be under water

5) the classroom of a school you attended

6) a pet or another animal you've had the chance to observe

7) a doctor's waiting room

8) a monster you imagined when you were a child

9) the way a particular person snores

10) the view from the top of a tree.

A second topic this week is the idea of writing across lines. Yes, I know it is quite legitimate but I have been reading one or two well-respected poetry magazines (including The Poetry Review). I am appalled at the random way in which many so-called poets simply break up the lines of the poems.
I have two reasons, the first is that I really believe that to enjoy a poem it has to scan, have rythm and have some discernable structure. Otherwise, why not call it prose and write it as such. Does calling it poetry confer some imagined kudos?
The second reason is that I like to be able to read a poem without studying it first. If I have to read a poem several times before I can understand it, then I lose interest. Am I lazy? I don't think so, I read constantly. I read a wide range of subject matter from many sources but "modern" poetry is not something I enjoy. Much of it is like abstract painting of the kind perpetrated by the conceptual school of art. In my opinion, and I stand by it, it is utter rubbish.