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

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/