I Too by pete marshall

I Too

by pete marshall

I too, like you

have sat alone

with flickered thoughts

caressed by screens

that weave, entice and play my mind

with words you spun from make believe

I too, like you

have once embraced

the words that flowed 

upon my page

that weave, entice and play my mind

then left me spent and wrought with rage

I too, like you

have once felt peace

escaping from

my troubled times

that weave, entice and play my mind

blurring life from words unkind

I too, like you

now sit alone

my words are spoke

for none to know

that weave, entice and play my mind

for words are spurned, now cease to flow

I too, like you

thought once a friend

who hung onto 

my every breath

that weave, entice and play my mind

who yearn their loss upon ones death

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

image courtesy wikipedia

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.

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

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.

***********

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.

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

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.

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

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!

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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

The Blues: a poem by pete marshall

The Blues

by pete marshall

Into the valley rode the 600

carrying the hope of all who came.

Blues would swirl on banners high,

drums would pound to beat their name.

Whistles blew as cries were heard

midst screams of man, their thumping hooves.

Flesh would sweat 'mongst blood & dirt,

defiant yells the charge let loose.

Tender years too young for war,

fought as one despite their pain.

With gritted teeth they battled on

to take the prize and win the game?

***********

Those of you who know me on twitter, @petemarshall1, will be aware that I manage an under 10's soccer team. This Sunday, a win will see them win the league. 

Today's poem, The Blues, is for them, who have fought so hard this season and are on the brink of winning their first ever trophy.

This poem is also for One Shot Wednesday, part of One Stop Poetry, which opens tonight at 10pm, UK time  (5pm EST). If you love poetry, whether reading or writing then stop by and take a look.

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

Sun, Sea & Sirens: A Poem by Pete Marshall

Sun, Sea & Sirens

by pete marshall

Her silken skin, a shoulder strap

slipped to show a hint of pink,

her thighs that sung a lilting tune

a sirens call where dreams would sink.

Too long I spent just looking past 

hidden from a shaded view,

where waters lapped a flowing beat

of dreams that floated on the blue.

Tousled thoughts & ruffled hair

beyond the beach her longing stare

behind the cool, abrasive wall

the lust of man, the wanting fool.

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

Today's One Shoot Sunday is a choice of 5 wonderful images by James Rainsford. I took option 5...

Hope No More: poetry by pete marshall

Hope No More

by pete marshall

The stars fell out the sky tonight

to sink beneath the estuary waves

that licked the shorelines tarnished sand

and cause a swell within the bay.

Hope was blown through open doors

across the green beyond the street

to fall amongst the rubbish bins

where foxes fought for scraps to eat.

Cobwebs filled a sullen room

as dust would swirl outside the door

where words were mixed with scattered doubts

within the books strewn on the floor.

His life was lost in wishful dreams

across the pond, the waters green

the stagnant smell of rotting weeds

the loss of all that could have been.

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

This is my poem for One Shot Wednesday, at One Stop Poetry. If you like poetry whether reading or writing why not check it out, opens every Tuesday at 5pm EST (10pm UK)

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

Love Thy Neighbour: A Poem by Pete Marshall

Love Thy Neighbour

by pete marshall

I stared behind a wooden fence

that hid my face from neighbours eyes,

where in my house my love was spent

as dreams would take me back outside.

I stared upon the gap between

that caught my eye, her whitened thighs,

I saw her jump and hoped the hem

would lift up high and gently rise.

A sultry voice and bright red shoes

that danced a beat of wicked lies,

a sirens call on errant runs

where love would hide & I’d oblige.

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

Today's wonderful image is by photographer Lauren Randolph, who's interview and picture prompt have formed this weeks One Shot Sunday, at One Stop Poetry

Chocolate

Chocolate

by pete marshall

I stole a chocolate from the box

that lay discarded on the side,

its sickly taste that pained the root

but warmed the guilt of wicked lies.

Nothing seemed to fill my mind

I stopped, I thought, I paused a while,

then time would drift to where you were,

as hands would search beneath the foil,

where warmth would feel the sticky goo

that oozed upon my lingering touch

and cling onto my fingertips,

your scent, a sin, a wanton lust.

I craved the taste of sugared lips

that felt so sweet upon my tongue,

I sucked the tips of mellow bliss

as you would melt & we came one.


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


Chocolate is my poem for the award winning One Stop Poetry where I will be your host for this weeks One Shot Wednesday. Opens tonight at 10pm UK, 5pm EST. 

The Carvery: by Pete Marshall

The Carvery

by pete marshall

Pride & dreams were laid upon

a smorgasbord of shattered souls,

yet dude was smooth and played his tune

as time would pass and pay its toll.

Hope was breathed as clocks would tick

whilst stifled air would fill the room,

faces strained in summers heat

to force a smile beyond the gloom.

Silence fell on nervous smirks

who doubted all their wasted years

that lived a life beyond respect

whilst hiding from financial fear.

Cards were played upon a desk

as jokers tried to pass the time

looks were glanced with eyes ahead,

the scythe was splayed across the line

and all were left with mouths aghast

as blood would flow across the floor,

The Carver claimed these wasting souls

then licked his lips, their life no more.

*******

This is my poem for the award winning One Stop Poetry and their weekly poetry fest, One Shot Wednesday.

Last night One stop Poetry were the proud recipients of winning a Shorty award in the categorary Art. Well done to everyone who helped make this possible...thankyou

Legend: A Poem by Pete Marshall

Legend

Whence Tristram rode his mighty steed

to claim the hand of fathers pride

she bade him hush and honoured thee

with love that rushed from deep inside

Tempers flare when darkened moods

that grow inside the blackened mind

ignite the seeds of solitude

where screams are all a love will find

A sword is pulled from Arthur’s stone

that dwelled within a shattered heart

which broke the walls of hardened bone

to tear a soul in two, apart

Alone he sits as legends pass

to gently fade and drift away

where idylls sing of distant lore

inscribed in stone for here to stay

********

This amazing image provided by Brian Miller has formed a picture prompt for One Stop Poetry. This is my poem

High Street Blues: by Pete Marshall

High Street Blues

By Pete Marshall

A lonely man upon a bench

with rolls that spilled from out each side

he must have been, what - 60 plus?

but high street blues had passed him by.

And shouts were heard from teenage gangs

who jostled chips and KFC

whilst girls would egg and push them on

then tease them with virginity.

Some kids would laugh by sequined dolls

in stockinged thighs and see through tops,

and next door folk would come and go

with bucket grub from burger shops.

Beneath the bridge the busker sang

where once the pigeons played their games

as mothers pushed their laden prams

and passed his cap of measly gain.

The rows of shops no longer seen

for coffee bars and fast food dreams

and Bank’s & Cash for precious things,

or pawn that sits where hope has been.

A family pushed and rushed on past

in clothes that once would fit them proud,

where goods are bought too quick and cheap

but never last beyond the sales.

Around the square that marks the end

A man would preach of Lord & God

His voice would sell a damning world

yet, troubled souls would laugh & mock.

And boards were placed on shattered glass

where fights had spilled the night before

when high street blues would come alive

to late night drinks and booze fuelled wars.

***********

I was walking down my local high street this weekend and my mind drifted to how things had changed, even in my life time...heck they have an Ann Summers shop next door to a KFC!

This is my poem for One Shot Wednesday, hosted this week by Adam Dustus. A great platform to share your work, opens at 10pm UK time

My Heart Not Knows: by Pete Marshall

My Heart Not Knows

by Pete Marshall

My heart not knows where love will lie

Upon a cursed & ravaged bed

And storms will rage in darkened skies

My heart not knows where love will lie

No longer touched by waking eyes

A love is spurned as words are said

My heart not knows where love will lie

Upon a cursed & ravaged bed

**********

Its Triolet Day at One Stop Poetry, hosed by Shan Hendry. This is my attempt at tackling this form.

Cockle World: A Poem for my Daughter

Cockle World 

A Poem For My Daughter

Within her mind is Cockle world

that hides from truths in fluffy clouds,

with trees of pink and lilac hues,

orange streams and purple views.

Where Lep – Lep roams & rules her land,

fairies come & brothers banned!

Those large brown eyes tell stories too

the ones that love & listen through.

She never pauses or takes a breath,

she roars through life on urgent quests.

But do not think she doesn’t care,

beneath those clouds that crazy hair

is a heart that’s pure, that’s kind & true

that when you’re down will comfort you.

And don’t be fooled that she’s not there,

lost in the clouds above her hair,

for this ones mind is very bright

she’ll dig in deep, she’s always right!

Then back she goes to Cockle world

that hides from truths in fluffy clouds.

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

Brian Miller of One Stop Poetry is celebrating Spring today! 

Nothing reminds me more of spring than that of my daughter, and I couldn't resist surfacing an old poem that I wrote about her quite a way back. When we moved into our house the backyard was just that, a concrete hell. I began to dig it up, clear it out, bring in flowers & shrubs, lay a lawn. The following spring was when our yard became a garden, and that was when our daughter was born too. Now every spring, as the flowers bloom and the sun shines we celebrate not just spring but our daughters birthday too.

***********

Whilst posting this also gives me a chance to revisit the comments that I made about Blogging & commenting earlier this week, after my poem, Alas, for One Shot Wednesday.

The point I so tried to make was I didn't want people to feel they needed to comment on me, just comment because they want to. I also wanted people to understand that I knew how hard it is to try and comment on everyone's work and through my honesty I was hoping that I could give reassurance to those of you that struggled.

This week I read every single poem of One Shot Wednesday, yet only commented on a handful. I managed to do this because I didn't have to write a comment at the end of each, and by doing so I was able to savour and enjoy the poetry that much more.

The thing is though, after having left my views, one kind friend pointed something out to me that I hadn't taken in to account. I wont mention who she is, I will spare her blushes, but she made a very valid point that I had never realised. You see she said that what I was trying to convey may well have been misconstrued and read that I may be saying "I have no time for others poetry!" I was aghast at this, as she knew I would be. I hadn't realised that my  comment on another's poem was a comment that was seen as encouragement. The thing is I just see myself as a Blogger sharing his work.

I do read so much poetry and yes it is hard to comment on everyone's work, but I also understand what my friend was conveying and take her wise comments on board too.

Thanks for listening.........Pete