u

so few words

silence from which it came

limerick

Not a haiku

no poem

The nearest I get to singing

Old Poet

The old poet in my house,

in the years before I found it,
had been someone else
lover, husband, father.

(I suppose)

wheen

untitle

no name no pack drill
no loss
the poem goes unpublished

a poem once

I wrote 

a poem
on lined paper

     a poem begun
     too long ago
     in a time before

24-7

never-ending news 

recycled facts
fabrication

twenty-four

seven

you or I

you or I
speak of truth

but write only
of ourselves

don’t need rhyme…

don’t need rhyme (not all the time)
and seldom if ever at the end of a line
I don’t use it much but I choose it
at random for words and phrases
to ease the flow, to make it go

thursday

one day 

marking time

as tedious to go back

as go on to the bitter end

where everything 

begins

Automatic Writing

The automatic poem wrote itself,
its pen, a jumbled board of keys,
a trivial swill of data and, here,
a work of art, soi-disant, appears.

Mine is the Art

Mine is the art of disorderly rhyme
every word broken, begged or borrowed,
every syllable spoken, a token of tomorrow.

back-en

throu the fog a bou-hocht carl an his bull
gang slow in the back-en dag ‘at haps
the sair-aff black-affrontit cottar-touns

an gangin doon the orraman sings
a luv-sang o illtricket luv
‘at spiks o a ring an the hairt it braks

och, the year’s back has struck the simmer deid
an the haar rowes up but twa grim shaddas passin

From ‘Automne' (1913) by Guillaume Apollinaire. after a translation into Scots by Paul Malgrati – see over

© BH, 2019

---

Paul Malgrati offered a translation into Scots of the above. I couldn’t resist an attempt at translation. Like before, the result is different again. That’s the way with language, minds and poetic form in general.

I got the thumbs up on it from Paul, so all’s well. Plenty room for expression.

You can read Paul’s original (and Apollinaire’s)  here…

46

everything trumped
by stupidity’s game
of numbers

Poetry24 - Again

I've had fifteen poems published by Martin at Poetry24 since January this year:

Here are those from July to September -

• But… • Face Mask Poet • Treble Chance • 
• 451 • follow the water • Blind Eye •