Amen: My Poem for One Stop Poetry

AMEN

Please join me today at One Stop Poetry for my poem Amen

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Late Night Shopping: A Poem by Pete Marshall

Late Night Shopping:

 A Poem by Pete Marshall

Spirits gathered by the tills

as grey would colour cheap no frills

that stood in rows across the bay

mixed with juice and lemonade

that sat within a barge of steel

its frame was meshed, a squeaky wheel

would pause as chills would circle feet

in frozen foods our eyes would meet.

She touched her hair as mags suggest

showed signs she liked or so I’ve read

but eyes looked down on frozen peas

whilst I stood tall and hoped she’d see

the bogof sale that lined the shelves

her hair was red and loosely curled

and eyes that told a tale or two

were dressed for bed in midnight queues.

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This is my poem for One Shot Wednesday, run by One Stop Poetry, a fast growing community for poets & writers of all genres to share their work, express and make friends

image courtesy creative commoms http://www.flickr.com/photos/kallao/

The Waiting Room: A Poem By Pete Marshall

The Waiting Room:

A Poem By Pete Marshall

I sat within a crowded room

awash with sounds of Monday gloom

and watched the clock

and wished each hand

would reach on down

and strike the damned.

People stared and others yawned

the clock would tick for those unborn

and watch the rain

on sun soaked streets

A rainbows arch

was incomplete.

A handkerchief would catch a sneeze

A bulbous face, a heavy wheeze

and death would sit

beside my chair

texting friends

polluting air.

City gent would read the news

as others read back dated views

the door burst forth

the silence wrenched

kids poured in

with clothes all drenched.

Eyes would stare but look straight down

coughs were heard and others frowned

then right behind

A mermaid swam

hushing kids

 and pushing pram.

And through my aches my manners gave

I smiled in warmth and offered shade

she took my seat

her baby screamed

she looked so sad

alone in dreams.

Then as she spoke in softened tones

my name was called, its time to go..

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This is my poem for One Shot Wednesday, run by One Stop Poetry, a fast growing community for poets & writers of all genres to share their work, express and make friends

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

The Dance of the Masquerade....(A Tale In 160 Characters)

The Dance of the Masquerade...

(A Tale In 160 Characters) By Pete Marshall

Oh how the joys of youth would cry

Whilst mouths were fed their veins ran dry

With those that joined this masquerade

They’d dance through realms their masters made

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Couldn't resist it, an ode to vampires & all things Poe! Hope you enjoyed my 160?

For more marvellous tales in 160 characters visit monkeyman

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

The Wreckers: My Exclusive Poem For One Stop Poetry

The Wreckers: My Exclusive Poem For One Stop Poetry

Please visit One Stop Poetry to read my piece, The Wreckers. This piece came about by the thought of how far you would go to feed your family when faced by mounting debts and hard times? Being unemployed this is a thought that is constantly on my mind, but then I thought back to a time so much different to the one we live in today but when these problems were just as rife!

The Wreckers tells a tale of a village whose men were to pay the ultimate price.

If being unemployed has affected you in anyway, if you would like to share your thoughts, enter into a discussion etc. please feel free to comment. Regards Pete

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The Red House...(A Tale In 160 Characters)

The Red House: 

A Poem By Pete Marshall

Who would live behind this red brick wall

Where flowers are left to grow so tall

Whose doors are locked to one and all

And windows are closed to drown their calls?

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This picture has been hanging in our house for nearly 5 years and was drawn when my son was in reception (that's first year at school, aged 4 -5). Its a glorious picture that always makes me smile, but I felt it was time to give it a twist!!! 

for more great tales in 160 visit monkeyman

The Dawn Chorus: A Poem By Pete Marshall

The Dawn Chorus: 

A Poem By Pete Marshall

Having returned from a fabulous weeks camping with my family, I celebrated my return with a poem, The Dawn Chorus, at One Stop Poetry. If you haven't read this already please visit. Cheers and good life to all, Pete

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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.

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

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

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as featured at One Stop Poetry

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image courtesy creative commons flikr 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/lordspudz/