Submissions by Morganpoet
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I started writing poems over 40 years ago and have never stopped!
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2020 10:19pm
23rd Mar 2020 10:19pm
IN SUN DRENCHED FIELDS
Front page war news,
discarded into the flithy
overflowing railway bin.
Grey wooden boxes with bagged
human remains bundled inside,
hidden away in sun drenched fields,
filed with photos and documents
of never imagined torture.
To add to the shock,
the next pages reveal
children burned alive,
hung from streetlights,
stolen at night
from their beds.
Their innocence denied,
like the storage shed of
UN aid supplies,
locked away
from the starving.
Morganpoet
discarded into the flithy
overflowing railway bin.
Grey wooden boxes with bagged
human remains bundled inside,
hidden away in sun drenched fields,
filed with photos and documents
of never imagined torture.
To add to the shock,
the next pages reveal
children burned alive,
hung from streetlights,
stolen at night
from their beds.
Their innocence denied,
like the storage shed of
UN aid supplies,
locked away
from the starving.
Morganpoet
#HumanRights
286 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2020 2:04pm
23rd Mar 2020 2:04pm
SWINGING ON THE PEARLY GATE
The first time I came to Huntingdon Gardens to read,
a resident, named Mabel planted in me a seed,
when she told me a story about her Gran,
and the famous writer, Robert Louis Stevenson.
It was drizzly, in the overcast tropical way,
eight grandchildren outside, busy at play,
yelling, screaming, running around,
bathing in the rain, splashing the ground.
Grandma had decided, it was a good day
to visit the cemetery, calling the kids on the way,
all gathered round, she told them of the plan,
to climb Mount Vaea,...
a resident, named Mabel planted in me a seed,
when she told me a story about her Gran,
and the famous writer, Robert Louis Stevenson.
It was drizzly, in the overcast tropical way,
eight grandchildren outside, busy at play,
yelling, screaming, running around,
bathing in the rain, splashing the ground.
Grandma had decided, it was a good day
to visit the cemetery, calling the kids on the way,
all gathered round, she told them of the plan,
to climb Mount Vaea,...
#spiritual
#culture
380 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2020 1:06pm
23rd Mar 2020 1:06pm
WAYWARD RECKLESSNESS
Music playing, shadows casting through
an open doorway echoing news.
Time to go behind,
see what there is to find
on the other side of the screen,
capture the edge of the dream
in surrealist mode,
eyes closed pen on page,
using the paper as a stage
to explore, to discover more,
putting logical, rational
thought aside.
A castle, a flowing stream,
distant green flowing
in all directions,
isolation, under guard
forever waiting for
occasional interactions,
finding solace with a
feather quill,...
an open doorway echoing news.
Time to go behind,
see what there is to find
on the other side of the screen,
capture the edge of the dream
in surrealist mode,
eyes closed pen on page,
using the paper as a stage
to explore, to discover more,
putting logical, rational
thought aside.
A castle, a flowing stream,
distant green flowing
in all directions,
isolation, under guard
forever waiting for
occasional interactions,
finding solace with a
feather quill,...
#narrative
555 reads
1 Comment
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2020 5:55am
23rd Mar 2020 5:55am
A BINDING
This is a visual poem
#learning
467 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Mar 2020 2:16am
23rd Mar 2020 2:16am
THE WORD
The word is seen
the word is heard,
it's everywhere you look,
write a letter
sing a song,
sit down with a book.
Lets take the word
into its own space
away from all we know,
give the word
some time alone,
to find itself and grow.
The word will come
back in a way which
we have never seen,
vibrant, fresh,
so full of life, aware
of what it means,
To be something
so often used,
seen, spoken or heard,
with all the power
to create and destroy,
yet still be just a word....
the word is heard,
it's everywhere you look,
write a letter
sing a song,
sit down with a book.
Lets take the word
into its own space
away from all we know,
give the word
some time alone,
to find itself and grow.
The word will come
back in a way which
we have never seen,
vibrant, fresh,
so full of life, aware
of what it means,
To be something
so often used,
seen, spoken or heard,
with all the power
to create and destroy,
yet still be just a word....
#WritingPoetry
343 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2020 9:51pm
22nd Mar 2020 9:51pm
SHORT LINES
I keep my words simple,
my lines short,
although there are times
when I resort to more
complex words, cover the full line.
I write for anyone to read
without feeling the need
to reach for a dictionary,
interrupting the flow
of what it is I want
the reader to know.
I write for people
to understand
the powerful voice
inside their hand.
The words flow from
my pen unchanged,
as if they had been
pre-arranged to fall
in order, not for me
to decide.
Morganpoet
my lines short,
although there are times
when I resort to more
complex words, cover the full line.
I write for anyone to read
without feeling the need
to reach for a dictionary,
interrupting the flow
of what it is I want
the reader to know.
I write for people
to understand
the powerful voice
inside their hand.
The words flow from
my pen unchanged,
as if they had been
pre-arranged to fall
in order, not for me
to decide.
Morganpoet
#WritingPoetry
259 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2020 1:34pm
22nd Mar 2020 1:34pm
VIGILANCE
I choose the thoughts,
I choose the words,
I choose the feelings
so I deserve
whatever it is
I manifest,
an interesting game
a challenging test.
Vigilance is needed
in an effort to maintain
a way of life which
pleases the brain.
I must choose
to see the light,
it doesn’t have
to be a fight.
Morganpoet
I choose the words,
I choose the feelings
so I deserve
whatever it is
I manifest,
an interesting game
a challenging test.
Vigilance is needed
in an effort to maintain
a way of life which
pleases the brain.
I must choose
to see the light,
it doesn’t have
to be a fight.
Morganpoet
#MentalHealth
332 reads
4 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2020 9:26am
22nd Mar 2020 9:26am
THE IMPORTANT ONES
I sent my thoughts
off on a journey
of their own.
Felt them
hovering....
brought them
back to retrace
their steps.
Examined their
content, construction,
then just let
them drift,
let them
come and go
of their own accord.
Watched some return,
took note of the
important ones.
Morganpoet
off on a journey
of their own.
Felt them
hovering....
brought them
back to retrace
their steps.
Examined their
content, construction,
then just let
them drift,
let them
come and go
of their own accord.
Watched some return,
took note of the
important ones.
Morganpoet
#learning
276 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Mar 2020 2:46am
22nd Mar 2020 2:46am
THIS UNION
Speak not ill of womankind
for it is through her all
things are defined,
bringing forth life which
she sustains and feeds,
fulfilling all her infants' needs.
She is the one who
creates and sustains.
Yet he carries the seed
like the fruit after flower
he nurtures their growth
each day and hour.
While she gestates
new life within
without him the
cycle can not begin.
This union they create
forges a binding trinity
the miracle of life where
one plus one makes three.
...
for it is through her all
things are defined,
bringing forth life which
she sustains and feeds,
fulfilling all her infants' needs.
She is the one who
creates and sustains.
Yet he carries the seed
like the fruit after flower
he nurtures their growth
each day and hour.
While she gestates
new life within
without him the
cycle can not begin.
This union they create
forges a binding trinity
the miracle of life where
one plus one makes three.
...
#family
406 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
21st Mar 2020 9:42am
21st Mar 2020 9:42am
INNER VOICE
One day an echidna
met the marsupial mole,
on a rare occasion
at the top of the hole,
the mole was looking
for someone to tell,
his eyesight so poor
in his attempts to smell
a creature about,
he found himself licked
prodded with a snout.
“Hello” he said,
“Is someone there?
I have something of
importance to share."
"What can you tell me
which I don’t already know,
from your underground life
what have you to show?"
"Well, first there were the pages,
where can I begin,
you...
met the marsupial mole,
on a rare occasion
at the top of the hole,
the mole was looking
for someone to tell,
his eyesight so poor
in his attempts to smell
a creature about,
he found himself licked
prodded with a snout.
“Hello” he said,
“Is someone there?
I have something of
importance to share."
"What can you tell me
which I don’t already know,
from your underground life
what have you to show?"
"Well, first there were the pages,
where can I begin,
you...
#narrative
330 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
21st Mar 2020 9:28am
21st Mar 2020 9:28am
CONSIDERATIONS
Hidden in a hollow
the marsupial mole
chose to entertain,
enhance his role
in what seemed such a
pointless waste of time
he busied himself by
constructing rhyme.
There was so much
he wanted to say,
so many ideas could
appear in one day,
the importance of choosing
often held back
what could be constructive,
fulfil a lack.
Somehow considerations
would get in the way
of even the simplest
things he’d do and say.
Morganpoet
the marsupial mole
chose to entertain,
enhance his role
in what seemed such a
pointless waste of time
he busied himself by
constructing rhyme.
There was so much
he wanted to say,
so many ideas could
appear in one day,
the importance of choosing
often held back
what could be constructive,
fulfil a lack.
Somehow considerations
would get in the way
of even the simplest
things he’d do and say.
Morganpoet
#WritingPoetry
317 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Mar 2020 10:28pm
20th Mar 2020 10:28pm
CONNECTIONS
I am here
because they
were there,
over hundreds
of years
the one thing
we share
is the verses
that come into
our head,
need to be
written,
need to be
said.
So I read the words
written long ago,
incorporate them
into what I know,
start to learn
the stanzas and styles,
add details to
databases and files
so I can see
how we all connect.
Morganpoet
because they
were there,
over hundreds
of years
the one thing
we share
is the verses
that come into
our head,
need to be
written,
need to be
said.
So I read the words
written long ago,
incorporate them
into what I know,
start to learn
the stanzas and styles,
add details to
databases and files
so I can see
how we all connect.
Morganpoet
#culture
#tradition
315 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Morganpoet
