And then I write

From varying places I come
sometimes from nowhere, sometimes left field
sometimes from a nuance of something
Perhaps inspiration or a fledgling spark
that imagination plucks from the cusp
presenting an image to shape and mould
from nothing to essence
from left field to right
form something to everything
And then I write

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

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I’ve been writing

I've been writing now for ages
my pen just can't keep still
and I'm certain that will be the case
for more years yet until
I've lost the plot entirely
and the words, dried up, are done
(I'll rue the day) but then accept
that day has finally come

But I'm pleased to say for now at least
I still write every day
as life it still continues
and has plenty more to say
So that's what I use my words for
to paint the life I see
in all its many nuances
as it evolves 'round me

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Writing at night II

I've been up half the night
as sleep wouldn't come
so I took up my pen
til the morning begun

And wrote down the words
that this page now reveals
as when slumber resists
this writing, it heals

Then as the light grows
and the day takes a hold
I read back the lines
and the story I've told

And most of the time
with no exception today
I know that my words
will have something to say

So I'll keep on writing
by day or by night
as when slumber fails
I can at least write

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Nightwrite II

I couldn't sleep
so wrote instead
to get the words
out from my head
The night was hot
the air was still
and slumber failed
completely 'til
the early hours
and cooler times
when I had written
all my lines

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Hot III

I thought I’d write a poem
but my pen was really hot
I’d left it out in sunshine
so the poem it was not
At least for just a while
til the pen it had cooled down
then I could write the words
on this page without a frown

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Never Contrite

The problem with writing
So far in advance
Is the tine to catch up
Or not with a chance

And the capture of moments
Which by the time that they see
The cold light of day
Is a vague memory

But it’s a very small problem
To have so I’ll cope
And keep publishing them here
Knowing well that you’ll cope

As to you they are fresh
And as I hope quite inspiring
A snapshot of life
From someone not retiring

Someone who as me
Will continue to write
Albeit in advance
And never contrite

©Jemverse

Photo – Jem of Jemverse doing what he does

The middle of the book

I’ve reached the middle of my book
these little friends of mine
carried with me whence I go
and with me for a time

Scribblings out and jottings too
the scratching of my pen
there to capture all the words
at happenstance and when

These books will last six months or so
and then I’ll start another
keeping all as treasures still
each precious as the other

Capturing poems every day
they are a part of me
but what comes from their pages
is there for all to see

I’ve reached the middle of my book
but there’s another half to go
waiting for the joy of words
my future has to show

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

Dalit I (introducing)

From the Philippines I derive
Dalit is my name; short my form
Four lines in typicality
Each comprising eight syllables

©Jemverse

As a poet I’ve a keen interest in differing poetic form and syntax from around the world. From the Philippines then comes ‘Dalit’ – four non-rhyming lines of eight syllables , 32 in total. Jemverse features four examples today and for the next three.

Miles Melting

And as I travel metal sings
cocooned here in the warmth
night passes swift outside
where winter chill escapes me

Slumber beckons but I resist
taking pen to paper instead
I while away time passing
as the miles melt away

©Jemverse

Photo – Jempics

The Small Hours II

Here in this silence
With the quiet patter of gentle rain
the small hours while
and my pen scratches

Slumber beckons but temporarily eludes
So I with quiet resolve
capture the mood with words
flowing as the night deepens

©Jemverse