Thursday, 22 July 2010

The Haunting....(A Tale In 160 Characters)

The Haunting...(A Tale In 160 Characters)
by Pete Marshall

Shivering and scared we would hide in fear
As we watched you glide across the room
And through your face we saw no smile
Whilst midnight songs would play your tune

for more tales in 160 visit monkeyman


image courtesy creative commons

Wednesday, 21 July 2010

Alone In Her Dreams: A Poem Of Love Unknown

Alone in Her Dreams: 
A Poem Of love Unknown

Silently she sleeps alone in her dreams,
is it here I exist or am I a myth?
Illusions are real as I lay by her side
yet tonight I felt lost, those fires have died.
The room where we loved no longer feels warm,
our once flowering bed now ravaged by thorns,
my head lays in nettles my limbs upon weeds
and still she sleeps alone in her dreams.
I watch her breathe, she murmurs she moans,
there are two in this bed but one is alone.
Her mind is her secret kept hidden from me,
her words are like legends in stories she weaves,
but words are not spoken when love is not real,
truths are kept secret and never revealed.
A tear gently forms to run down my cheek
yet still she sleeps alone in her dreams.

image courtesy creative commons

A Love That's Lost: A Poem In Memory

A Love That's Lost: A Poem In Memory

Saturdays are my days over at One Stop Poetry. Today I wish to share with you all an old poem of mine, A Love That's Lost. 

This poem is very close to my heart and I just wanted to bring it back into focus. It explores the depth of Alzheimers and how it affects relationships. Imagine being with your partner for many years and then seeing that rock disappear before you. The obvious concern is always with the person that is fighting the illness but what of their partner, how does it affect them? A Love That's Lost is about this.

Thanks for following, all the best, Pete

Tuesday, 20 July 2010

The Piper: A Poem That Tells The Tale Of Hamelin

The Piper: A Poem That Tells The Tale Of Hamelin

From out of shadows crept the night
that forced its will upon the streets
as voices drifted on the breeze
A swing would rock an empty seat
A buxom girl in loosened clothes
laughed as hands would paw her breasts
and as they fell on cobbled stones
he rummaged mongst her ruffled dress

Behind the doors the weak would pray
as children slept in hallowed rooms
and voices soothed and whispered psalms
as piper played his lilting tune
the rats would gather from the drains
and twitch their snouts at blackened fayre
but piper passed their gathering throng
and played a song that filed the air
doors were closed and bolted tight
and lovers fled to darkened homes
but children stirred and crept to see
from where the tune would gently flow

And from the windows out they climbed
as beds were left all soft and warm
they followed him beyond the bridge
and out of town and in to dawn
the wails were heard as mothers cried
at rooms where souls no longer slept
the village grieved the rats still played
as Hamelin cleared its final debt

This piece is also featured in One Shot Wednesday, a new gathering place for poets & writers to showcase their talents

image creative commons

Wednesday, 14 July 2010

Drive By Dreams & Seaside Themes

Drive By Dreams & Seaside Themes:
A Poem About The Great British Seaside

I pulled into a ravaged street
strewn with sacks of littered dreams
and policemen lay so fast asleep
as traffic flowed past hooded thieves.

The rays burned hard on suntanned arm
that hung outside my limousine
and girls would saunter down the path
in skirts that length was gauged obscene.
My shades were dark, I looked the part
I cranked the sound of heavy beats
and summer sun would make me sweat 
as I cruised into another street.

And people stopped, I did not care
I pushed the limo in spite of their
glares that strained a disbelief
I shaped my hand and motioned grief.
They scurried past , I laughed aloud
and turned the limo on the crowd.

But now I cruised the boulevard
its palm decked lines of disregard.
The beats that pumped as people stared
that shook the car and buzzed the air,
and women ran in jogging pants
with cheeks that squeezed beneath the hem.
I carried on down to where the slots
and lights would flash and bring them in.

I passed the rows of drunken sops
whose kids were left to run amok
and chase the sounds of grab machines
stuffing coins in plush filled dreams,
high on floss and candy rock
and sugar stains on summer frocks.

And tattooed man would cross the road
eyes on me he tried to goad
I squeezed the gas and edged on near
as bass was pumped his eyes showed fear.
And Whitney stood and smiled at me
her man was weak and I was king
but girls can come and usually go
the limo seats are where they show.

Fake Las Vegas bars and dreams
and seaside towns are hardened things
I push the limo further on
into the world where I belong

as featured at One Stop Poetry


image courtesy creative commons flikr

Tuesday, 13 July 2010

The Lovers: A Poem From The Darkened Tales Collection

The Lovers: 
A Poem From The Darkened Tales Collection

The room was filled with summers heat
and heavy scents of stifled air
I lay upon a burning pyre
and gently brushed your raven hair

I watched you hide behind a mask
that fuelled the urge of lover’s dare
I cupped your face between my palms
our pupils spoke in whispered stares

And as you slipped from off my bed
I hoped the Lord would grant my prayer
I watched you softly paint your lips
Then strike and fill me with despair

You scoured my eyes with fists of sand
and grabbed my face and pulled it tight
you ripped into my pulsing vein 
then fled into the darkened night...

This piece is also featured in One Shot Wednesday, a new gathering place for poets & writers to showcase their talents

image creative commons

Sunday, 11 July 2010

The Sacrifice..(A Tale In 160 Characters)

The Sacrifice....(A Tale In 160 Characters)
By Pete Marshall

I travelled deep into her wretched heart
and staked my claim upon her will
I watched her screams whilst darkness danced
And prayed with friends that gathered still

for more tales in 160 visit monkeyman


image creative commons

Tuesday, 6 July 2010

Sunken Dreams: A Poem From The My Struggle With Unemployment Series

Sunken Dreams: A Poem From The 
My Struggle With Unemployment Series

I sailed a barge of purest gold
That travelled far on clear blue seas
Aware of mists that followed stern
And ships that chased my golden dreams

In ports I berthed that welcomed me 
And treated me the conquering lord
But masks would hide my failing charms
As rot was all that lay onboard

The sea would roar beyond the cliffs
As winds blew dreams down empty streets
And beggars gathered in cardboard homes
As sweat and vomit masked excrete

A shadow fell on yesterday
As clouds crept in on stifled air
Alone inside I hid the truth
That stares down barrels fraught with fear

I came to rest where once I prayed
For here now lies my wasted years
And pass the stones that told my fate
As storms grew strong I battled tears

I stopped to smell my favourite bloom
That always flowered so fragrantly
But what’s the point, I broke its stem
Then turned and fled away from here.....

For those of you that have followed my journey there should always be hope, but I have lost some of that. I have a hearing set for unpaid bills which I now face with bated breath. I look at all I have and what I have given my family and I see it slipping away. My poem, Sunken Dreams, reflects this..


image creative commons

Friday, 2 July 2010

Mr Plush: A Poem That Tells The Tale Of A Bear

Mr Plush

Mr Plush to some is cute
Cuddly, warm, a soft brown suit
With button eyes and patched up nose
Sentiments bought from long ago

Mr Plush sits in his chair
And rocks the rooms foreboding air
His hands tight clasped with eyes of steel
That scream in silence with foul ill will

Mr Plush first built his pile
When played a hand at Falstaff’s trial
He lines his pot and builds his walls
And loves to see how others fall

Mr Plush sits on a chair
Loved by all with cuddles & care
Mr Plush looks down his nose
And hoards the cash that sentiment flows

Mr Plush once had it all
Friends that came to summer balls
But Mr Plush is now threadbare
All have gone & no one cares


image creative commons