World Poetry Day: Another Country Haiku Poetry from Wales by Nigel Jenkins

Title: Another Country Haiku Poetry from Wales
Author/Editor: Nigel Jenkins
Publisher: Gomer Press
Publication Date: 15 Mar 2011





Synopsis: From Amazon
This is the first ever Welsh national anthology of haiku poetry, and features the work of forty authors who have contributed significantly to the development and popularity of this most ancient yet versatile of literary forms. Concise, precise and evocative, and taking us on a journey through and around the ordinary and extraordinary aspects of everyday life, these poems have been selected and edited by three highly respected pioneers of the haiku in Wales, Nigel Jenkins, Ken Jones and Lynne Rees

Thanks to the wonderful Dylan Thomas Centre in Swansea I have a taster of the poems included in this gorgeous book.

Rain and the ghosts of rain

conjure the mountain.

Everything will disappear.

Tony Curtis

a bullfinch sparks off

into the gloom an old

sadness returns

Chris Torrance

again

this evening

filling the space between us

the scent of honeysuckle

John Rowlands

Winter light

inside our bedroom window

the spider’s web abandoned

Ken Jones

Hay’s almost in –

Summer’s too short here

for romance

Marion Carlisle

At sunset

My shadow

Grows absent

Humberto Gatica

I hope this has encouraged you to give poetry a try.
Thanks for reading

World Poetry Day: Guest Poem: Written by the Gorgeous Susan K Mann

It is my pleasure to host a poem from one of the nicest people I know. She is a truly lovely person and without her I would be crying in the corner that my blog had disappeared. This poem is taken from Susan's blog with her permission. Although Susan insists she isn't very good I think it is wonderful. I will let you make up your own mind. Go check out Susan's fabulous blog by clicking the picture above.

First Kiss

Standing face to face,

Our eyes lock,

Our heads tilt before the embrace,

The butterflies in my stomach flap intensely,

The anticipation of what is to become overwhelms me,

The hairs at the back of my neck start to tingle,

We move closer,

I feel your breath on my lips,

A shiver goes down my spine,

Our lips touch,

And the butterflies become bats,

The tingling becomes electrified,

Our kiss becomes more intense,

I intertwine my fingers in your hair,

Our breathing becomes faster, becomes one,

Then its over, WOW...

World Poetry Day: Guest Poem: Written by the Lovely Zoe Marriott

In an attempt to showcase poetry in the school library today, I asked Zoe if she would share a poem with us. She is a fantastic advocate of the beauty of poetry, even making up quick haiku poems on twitter. The following poem is stunning - ENJOY.

THE HEARTBREAK OF DREAMS

I have a dream of the summer whisper of wind high up amongst green boughs

And darts of gold piercing patterns of leaf shadow

I have a dream of the soft movement of water

And ripples with dark underbellies curling on river stones

And I feel the brush of warm air against my cheek

Velvety and fluttering like a bird’s wing

That disappears with a sweet, aching throb of song

And takes the dream and the summer with it

And leaves me, eyes welling

In darkness…

 

Thanks to Zoe for sharing that beautiful poem with us.

Now go check out the awesomeness that is Zoe's website here where you can find information on all the ways you can interact with this fabulous person as well as seeing the beautiful covers and trailers for her books.

World Poetry Day: Guest Poem: Written by the Super Cute Iffath @ Love Reading X

When I asked on Twitter if anyone would like to share a poem on my blog and for the read aloud session in the school library - the lovely Iffath of Love Reading X kindly offered to share one of her poems. this is the one I chose. Enjoy. Check out Iffath's blog here and remember she is only 14.

PURE INNOCENCE

She stares into the mirror,

watching it repeat

her every move

Wincing in pain,

her breath becoming

forceful.

The scarlet eyes

do not fool her-

they glisten in the moonlight

like nothing

she has ever seen before

But. She has seen them

before.

somewhere. nowhere.

Everywhere.

Every. Single. Time.

Haunting the pure innocence

in her faithless past

Her raw tears

stinging the violet patches

engraved on her skin

What is this ‘thing’

she has created?

loved.

Freed

and how can she stop it?

even though, deep down,

somewhere, she

knows it won’t-

can’t happen.

She steals a glance

from her, now, intricate

reflection

but her dreamy mood

overcomes her

as her-

eyelids

droop down,

almost,

peacefully.

World Poetry Day: Guest Poems: Written by Nicole Year 8

I was really astounded when Nicole approached me to tell me she wrote poetry. Nicole suffers from turrets, she has a time out card she can use when she is having a rough patch. She tends to come to the library to calm down (plus I bribe her with sweets, lol). I am touched that she wanted to share her poetry with me (and ultimately you). My lesson in remembering not to judge a book by its cover [ ; D ] 

Friends Birthday

Its my best friends birthday,

She has one every year.

I like to buy her present,

to celebrate her birth.

She doesn't have a party,

because she is just too old,

but goes out for a meal

or has a sleepover at home.

Holidays

Holidays are the best,

I mean, You get to rest.

You sunbathe by the pool,

use a fan to make you cool.

You watch the skies above,

with the ones you love.

Bad Guy

I might be mean,

I might be sad, I can honestly say,

I ain't that bad.

You are sad,

You are mean, well that's how it seems.

But deep inside,

I know too well,

You ain't the bad guy,

Just under a spell.

World Poetry Day: Guest Poem: Written by Hannah Year 8

It is my pleasure to showcase one of my year 8 pupils poems. This I have to admit is not one of my favourite pieces by her, but as her poetry is very personal (and stunning) I don't think she felt able to share the more emotional pieces just yet. Especially for the read aloud session which will include boys from her class (we all know how sensitive teenagers can be to criticism). This poem is very thought provoking and I imagine it reflects the turmoil faced by teenagers daily. I was informed after editing this post that the poem was written after watching the Saw movie *shudders*

THE GAME

Can't stand the blood?

Can't stand the pain?

These are the rules to my sadistic little game.

You can cut but you can't cry,

You can bleed but cannot die,

You can shriek but still feel pain,

My sadistic little game.

You can cry and I'll still gloat,

Silver chains around your throat,

And you are all to blame,

In my sadistic little game.

You can beg and I won't hear,

Rusty blood dried around my ear,

Soon you will be the same,

In my sadistic little game.

Think of your precious lovers lips,

Like barbed wire until the kiss,

Dying of merciless shame,

My sadistic little game.

White noise banging in your ears,

Your spirit slowly disappears,

Mumbling ancient text,

Join the game or you'll be next.

Celebrating Wales: Dylan Thomas

Synopsis: From Amazon

On her seventeenth birthday, Cassia meets her Match. Society dictates he is her perfect partner for life. Except he’s not. In Cassia’s society, Officials decide who people love. How many children they have. Where they work. When they die. But, as Cassia finds herself falling in love with another boy, she is determined to make some choices of her own. And that’s when her whole world begins to unravel . . .

Review here

I just had to include this in the Welsh appreciation as it has been given a fresh appeal via the amazing Matched, so here is the poem in full for your enjoyment [ : D ]

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.