Touched: A poem by pete marshall

Touched

by pete marshall

Touched by a walk through the bustling streets

lights that shine bright on the joys that we seek

laughter rings loud from the young & naive

yet darkness draws near on a cold Winters Eve

Touched by the wealth of those who walk free

unshackled by debt and goodwill to all thee

credit secured that brings forth some reprieve

yet darkness draws near on a cold Winters Eve

Touched by the brush of two lovers who speak

embracing in shadows in bars where they meet

dreams laced with passion as partners deceive

yet darkness draws near on a cold Winters Eve

Touched by the warmth of food that came forth

by fires that kindled and glowed in the hearth

of songs of our Lord and gifts we receive

yet darkness came home on a cold Christmas Eve

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This year has had more downs than ups, and some of you know what the last few weeks have brought to the Marshall house, and, as optimistic as I try to remain, Saturday I went to town and just came straight back home!!!

Its hard being cheery all the time and at Christmas this is emphasized more. I felt low but so do so many others and whilst I had my reasons I was able to come home, talk to my wife, embrace my children and was back on track again, but for so many others this is not possible and with that in mind I dedicate this poem to those souls that are lost & lonely.

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Today I also share this poem with dverse, especially my old friends from One Stop Poetry days, brian miller, claudia schonfeld, gay reiser-cannon who along with my brother, adam dustus and a very special friend in shan ellis, a collection of poetry, In The Presence of Poets, has been released.  For details of this publication please click on the following link


In The Presence of Poets

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Winters Blues by pete marshall

Winters Blues

by pete marshall

Leaves still cling upon the trees

as cloudless skies embellish rays

of sun that hovers low beneath

the Winter blues that shorten days

Breath encircles worried minds

that hang from spiders silken threads

that shimmer bright in morning light

yet in the shadows harbours death

Damp that settles on the ground

where grass & weeds are mulched as one

that sees the snakes go slither by

whilst Summers work is left undone

A child’s bike lays on its side

left alone to play no more

its wheels entwined with Winters grief

abandoned, broke, upon the floor

A veil is drawn passed waiting eyes

that looked beyond these changing times

where man once walked the beat of life

yet turned his back, we missed the signs

Where hope is lost to those that deem

when Winters wrath sunk Autumn dreams

and storms have battered withered souls

who slip from life before they go……

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Elements in the news this week rekindled the pain of losing someone close. Depression is an illness, something that should never be taken lightly, something that is very close to my heart.

Removed by pete marshall

Removed

by pete marshall

From deep inside she felt the heat

of scars that stained her swollen flesh

that burned upon her ravaged throat

upon a mattress soaked in sweat

An ashen face that looked beyond

the pale of hope and lost respect

a fetid breath that spoke of death

that uttered words yet felt regret

Sleep would fall upon her face

as eyes would flicker gently tight

a kiss that sealed a warm embrace

that kept her safe throughout the night

And moments pass despite the hour

as coughs awake her silken dreams

that flow with grace & dampen fires

that quell her fear & stem the screams.

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My 7 year old daughter has had problems all her life with her tonsils, having been hospitalized for a week in August with a severe infection. Today they were finally removed. She is fine & doing well.


Today I also link this poem up with a wonderful community of poets, D'verse

A Broken Home by pete marshall

A Broken Home

by pete marshall

I walked around an empty home

Despite the toys that laid upon

An unkempt bed with duvet drawn

Where Mickey sat withdrawn, alone

Beneath the bed a comfy den

Of cushions , sheets & cuddly friends

Yet mum has gone and taken him

The room lays cold, unwelcoming

And dads alone, beside himself

As tears pour down his reddened cheeks

The life he’d slaved to bring them wealth

Just gathers dust whilst mother weeps

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image care of wikipedia

The Gathering by pete marshall

The Gathering

by pete marshall

As mice ran forth across the floor

from open boards, through rotting doors

where damp would crawl and spread upon

beyond the course the plaster blown

and sweats that chill the very skin

would soak the sheets of darkened dreams

hope would see the morning in

yet droppings lay by ravaged bins

amongst the crumbs of sweetened things

& faeces shared from deep within

upon the floor, across the beams

for hours count the gathering

Outside the mist a swirling screen

that creeps along and slips between

the leaves that fall from autumn trees

the taste of salt from off the sea

and sweats that chill the very skin

would soak the sheets of darkened dreams

hope would see the morning in

from out their nests they rode the wind

the rooks would kaah whilst circling

then swoop upon the menacing

across the paths and dew soaked green

for hours count the gathering

Within a damp and blackened cask

a heart would beat behind a mask

where eyes are wide & pained with fright

beneath the earth this fearful night

and sweats that chill the very skin

would soak the sheets of darkened dreams

hope would see the morning in

upon the boards you scratch & scream

your nails are spent and blistering

the blood is rushing from within

cries are echoes for your sins

for hours count the gathering

***************

A new Darkened Tale

image courtesy creative commons flikr http://www.flickr.com/photos/emmanuelamador/

waves by pete marshall

Waves

by pete marshall

I saw you look across the bay,

A distant mast, the raging waves

Your ocean gaze that never strayed,

A recent past, the taste of spray

The brine upon a twisted lip,

A bitter taste, a sunken ship

A Wind that blew through auburn hair,

A tidal swirl, a silent stare

I saw a tear caress your face,

A smudge of kohl, a yearned embrace

A storm that blew and tossed the waves,

where love now lies in watered graves

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Been a while since I have written but a yearning grabbed me today resulting in this. I hope that yearning stays!

image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/smb_flickr/

What Lay Before by pete marshall

What Lay Before?

by pete marshall

They hopped along this sacred earth

where bones would lay in open graves

picked the worms from rotting leaves

that turn to mulch and then decay

A flap of wings upon a gust

would settle forth within the trees

perched on high to spy the world

tears would flow as all would grieve

Feather’s fell from high above

floating past an open view

they sat upon a window ledge

where dolls would play in solitude

Bars align this sheltered space

hardened steel surrounds the home

boards are trod by strangers who

remove the tiles where magpies roam

Two would sit upon the slate

beneath where dreams of hope now fade

rock is dropped to crash and break

upon the path where gold once lay

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Ever wondered What Lay Before? My home has a history and the land is stands on can tell even older tales. 

image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/raulc/

Match Day

Match Day

by pete marshall

Floodlit dreams upon a baize

where shadows waltz and serenade,

who dance & weave within a heart

as man turns boy, as light turns dark.

When thoughts are lost within your dreams,

seasoned hopes and passions screamed,

bags are packed but never seen,

lovers leave as games have been.


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Tonight my good friend Julie Watkins hosts Meeting the Bar at D'verse, when challenged with "tackling the big subjects", heck she could only mean football...surely

image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/auro/

In Justice

In Justice

by pete marshall

Cobbled stones that lead unto

a granite wall & iron rails,

death would walk 'mongst weeping cries

beyond the gates of Bodmin gaol.

A smile that pulls past ragged teeth

bestows a child with ashen hair

who walks past rows of sullen homes,

dampened cells & stifled air.

Rights are called on bastard thieves

who stole a hunk from bakers fayre.

Alone she sat beyond reproach

yet fairies brought her food to share.

For troubled times begin to brew

as torches burn in hate filled streets,

the hangman bows upon a door

that opens forth past 13 feet.

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Having just returned from visiting so many wonderful sites in Cornwall, this poem has been inspired after my first ever visit to Bodmin Gaol, and perhaps the troubled times we are currently envisaging.

This is  also shared with Dverse

image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/dennyboy/

The Pale Horseman

The Pale Horseman

by pete marshall

Alone he rode through darkened nights

beneath the seas of raging storms

beyond the realm where others fight

to feel at peace, alone, forlorn.

Yet was this not a personal choice

where trust was found upon one's steed

to ride afar than use one's voice

to swing one's sword with bitter ease?

Darkened nights gave way to spring

the storms are just a tempests swirl

alone but full he found his place

then drew the curtains on this world.

In time they came to beckon thee

for legends spoke of mighty strength

the spinners weave embellished tales

yet battles fought had left him spent.

His steed had passed from journeys long

across the moors & winding roads

but never more to be alone

not now or then whereon he strode.

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Today see's the final One Shot Wednesday, the end of One Stop Poetry and as sad as it is to see a wonderful venture close, the legacy of One Stop is all around, and can be seen in all of you.

It saddens me also to see others drawn in to a debate as to the whys & wherefores of why One Stop finished. The reason is simple, without one there is none.

If you were to read my pages both here & at One Stop over the last few months then perhaps you would also read that I was taking a back seat, in truth I had lost my passion, enthusiasm & muse, and could not be involved in something that I was struggling to participate in. Perhaps the reason that One Stop closed was because of this and me?

I do not wish to read anything further on this matter. One Stop has closed and we have all moved on to other things. At the moment I am taking a rest, so is Adam, Leslie is looking into other ideas whilst recuperating, Chris is moving and both Bri, Claudia & Gay are launching a new project, d'Verse, which begins tonight.

In time other communities will surface, we already have The River, which is a great bi-weekly newspaper.

One Stop was a great idea but stars will fade. I am sad that it has passed but I have been sad for a long time and perhaps that sadness was the start of its closure. 

I have always said, Poetry is the Winner, and it is poetry that unites, good life to all......Pete

image care of creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/minchki/

Ruined: A poem by pete marshall

Ruined

a poem by pete marshall

Walls were built, bards would sing,

rendered words, hardened seams,

rotting beams, timbered dreams,

weed's that grew a wondrous green.

Stones that spoke of many tales,

weathered shrines, holy grail’s,

cracks beneath a plastered veil

lost beyond entangled trails.

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I wrote this poem for this weeks One Shoot Sunday, but also felt that it should be aired today. I would like to say a big thank you to each and everyone of you that has been part of One Stop Poetry, cheers Pete

Today is One Shoot Sunday and this stunning image is provided by accomplished photographer Neil Alexander.

Today is One Shoot Sunday, which see's both Adam & Chris wave goodbye. Today has also seen Claudia leave. Earlier this week Brian waved his goodbyes, as I yesterday. Today is a sad day.

Taken: By Pete Marshall

Taken

by pete marshall

Dolores smiled and held my hand,

her touch was soft upon my skin,

her lips were full upon my nape,

her thighs were warm and welcoming.

I felt a breath that chilled my skin

then crept along each vertebrae.

I closed my eyes and saw the joy

of devils dancing on my grave.

As willows hung above the stream

the winds would blow and gently sway,

the cry of lambs within the fields

as wolves would circle in the fray.

The pulse that beat within my mind

that flowed on through my poisoned veins,

the joy's I felt within your arms

upon your bed where dreams are made.

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Today I bring you a new Darkened Tale, an offering for One Shot Wednesday, part of One Stop Poetry.

If you like this and would like to read more of Dolores and the Darkened Tales visit, The Darkened Tales Collection


Not often I get to brag but have you seen this interview? The River Paper started last week and featured me...nice to get a mention once in a while, go to the following link, The River Paper

Cant believe I have written two poems this week! This is now my third week of work and its strange coming to terms with the change. The good news is I am writing  & now hopefully I will also start reading more again.

image creative commons http://www.flickr.com/photos/amanky/

The Shoemaker

The Shoemaker

by pete marshall

I carve the shape of trodden souls,

fastened tight to harden skin,

mallet’s wait for hearts to pound,

for Elf’s to come and roam within.

I’ve lived this life from boy to man

in tangled doubts with callused hands

that stitch the threads of spinners charm,

alone I work, this tranquil calm,

that knows no life thus what I am

a cobbler slaved to work the tan

who hides the loss of wasted years,

who cuts the cloth with sharpened shears.

Yet light will filter deep within

to reach upon this battered stool,

Elf’s will come each darkened night

and  work the minds of bitter fools.

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One Shoot Sunday provides a wonderful interview and picture prompt challenge inspired by Rob Hanson, who is accredited to the wonderful image above.

Pride by Pete Marshall

Pride

by pete marshall

Within my grasp lies Eden's fruit

as apples bob in weary eyes,

that caught my breath, its hidden guise

to choke where snakes would slither by.

Upon my hands are hardened lines

that fortune wrote when luck would smile,

who shamed my soul with her beguile

then left me high but never dry!

Within my heart lies judgement day

where names are tossed upon a pile,

a random path, a lonely mile, 

darkened thoughts that fight denial.

This life exhumed upon the pyre

that burns with hate from vicious liars,

their webs are spun to feed desire

then leave us spent, betrayed, expired!

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This is my poem for One Shot Wednesday, part of One Stop Poetry, a fantastic place where poetry is shared, discovered and enjoyed.

It was a year ago when I got together with a few friends and discussed this project and look how it has grown! One Stop Poetry is a place created for people to enjoy the arts and explore their creative side.

Today it is hosted by Leslie Moon who has made a great point, what we do is for the love of art and the promotion of poetry. We give our time freely for you to have a place where you can enjoy and express yourselves too.

From a personal point of view One Stop has always been a place where ego's do not survive, it is a place where there is only one winner, the Arts, and particularly  poetry. 

On a different vein, yesterday I started work!! Yes, this is a surprise, I have a months contract but this is a start. My passion for One Stop remains, as does my passion for poetry but money needs to be earned. My dream was to turn One Stop into an online magazine, earning an income for those that put so much time into it on a daily basis, but what has happened is One Stop has formed itself into a community, a wonderful community,  but maybe their are still legs in that dream. Thanks for listening....pete

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image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/kwerfeldein/

Storm by Pete Marshall

Storm

by pete marshall

As darkened skies begin to close

storms have gathered in the bay,

 winds that whip, that swirl & sway,

boats that rock upon the waves.

I felt like shit upon the pier,

my hate would spill from deep inside

to spew out forth on your denial

where dreams were thrust through ones desire.

You bitch, you whore, you brazen slut

that played my cock and left me sore,

and licked those lips where once I spent

just left me quivering on the floor.

The gulls have flown as waves still rise,

the cracks, the roar within the skies,

 pain that grabs between my eyes,

dreams are hate I now despise.

Beneath the waves still crash and spray

as I would ride a freakin whore,

who knew the game, who screamed for more,

who stroked my arse to sell her cause.

The boats still float on ravaged seas

as lightening strikes a figure head,

a bolt is cast that strikes her face 

that leaves me short in angered breath.

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I haven't been around lately, and life has had a few downs for me too! Today's poem is the first poem I have written since I last posted on my blog, about 3 weeks ago! Things haven't been too good on the unemployment front, everything is starting to catch up, not just the unsecured debts but also the mortgage! A long story that perhaps I will relate some other day.

Today's poem is an angry scream that spits venom at lady luck and the hand she has played.

Its also been a while since I have been involved in One Shot Wednesday, mainly because things had taken such a turn for the worse at home that I just could not face being involved.

All the best.....Pete

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image courtesy creative commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/mikkomiettinen/

Back to Reality

Back to Reality

by pete marshall

The Drive was long but too much road

forced the eyes to stare ahead,

see not what the rear view found

but follow stars that shine instead,

and then the gas ran dry,

so I walked home,

but home was also dead.

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This is my poem for oneshotwednesday, part of One Stop Poetry. Opens at 10pm tonight UK time