Tag Archives: song

Leave me this way

He’s late again
My imaginary friend
Sitting on a park bench
Waiting for the sun
I wonder why the clouds
Never leave me this way

Being late is his way
Of showing me, again and again
I needn’t be worried by clouds
Each one an imaginary friend
Never blocking the sun
Just aiming for this bench

They are drawn to this bench
Because in their peculiar way
They consider me their sun
And when I escape (again)
Tears, because their friend
Is lost without her clouds

I wonder why the clouds
Don’t just sit on the park bench
Talk to my imaginary friend
Explain that this way, his way
Is not helping me – again
I am waiting for the sun

I doubt if the sun
Hides behind the clouds
On purpose – again
Scared of the park bench
Searching for a way
To connect with my imaginary friend

Not realising my friend
Will never wait for the sun
Will always leave me this way
He befriended the clouds
One time, on a park bench
When I was late again

He’s late again, my imaginary friend
I’m waiting on a park bench, sitting in the sun
I’ve told the clouds to leave me alone today

I’m so excited I tried my hand at a #sestina! It fits today’s prompt I believe, in being inspired by art. When the first song line entered my mind (waiting for the sun, Jethro Tull) several other ones popped up later – my brain works like that. I’ve included all of them I think.

Their are more poems inspired by art or artists on my blog, either music or visual arts. I’ll see if I can find them and link them to this post. I know if you click on ‘song’ in the tag cloud, you can find a number of them.

For perfectionists: I changed the last word of the poem on purpose, outside the rules for a sestina. Poetic liberty 🙂


I secretly gave up on you

I secretly gave up on you
Sure, I still go through the motions
“My name is Sue, how do you do?”
But I secretly gave up on you

I secretly gave up on you
These fleeting fragments of now
Together cannot create a future
You’re stuck in my past
So I secretly gave up on you

If we were to meet like we once met
What would I say to you?

Censored (strike through font)

Hello, how do you do?
I secretly gave up on you

If you don’t have a clue with how much emotion the sentence “My name is Sue, how do you do” can be spoken, you probably don’t know this Johnny Cash song:
Safe to say that in this poem, that sentence is meant as a metaphor for saying one thing and meaning another.

How I wish

How I wish you weren’t here
too many lost souls
swimming in this small bowl

Silently screaming, awkwardly appealing
to my sense of saviour

See me, feel me, touch me, hear me,
write me a song, pen me a letter,
tend to my needs, make me feel good

How I wish I didn’t hear
your lost soul
echoing in this fish bowl

I know you want to be found
but I’m not searching

Yesterday’s prompt was to use overheard conversation. In this case it’s an overheard song, Pink Floyd’s Wish you were here. And I’ve added a bit of The Who.


When he banged his head
his hair- so long
swished – so luscious
the strands – mesmerising

I barely heard
his voice- so loud
roaring – with passion
the grunts – in tune

And slowly we rot

The #NaPoWriMo prompt: Today, I challenge you to write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does.

Metal and long hair always went together well. But as the fans grow older, their heads get bolder. That’s what I see around me. The band Obituary started at the end of the 80’s. On Speedfest 2015 they took the stage. Much to my surprise, there was a lot of hair on stage. I’m glad the prompt today made me write an ode 😉

The video shows long hair at 0.53, and is great to study if you’ve never been to e matalf festival and wonder what people do there.

Pissing in the river/I can do anything

Pissing in the river
watching it rise
I can do anything

Walking through the sea
watching it part
I can do anything

Making land from water
on a Sunday afternoon
I can do anything

Giving birth to a child
who refuses to do what I want him to
because he has a mind of his own

I can do anything

This poem was conceived during a Patti Smith live show. She’s an inspiration.