The Journey...

 How often in interviews with "famous" people on talk/talk shows do you hear them say in .."I'm a serious artist"...kind of way...

..."I'm on a journey"! 

(nod of the head...)

Perhaps they are thinking of Robert Frost, taking the "road less travelled"...

...perhaps it as just become a cliche...

...but it got me thinking about my own life what with the amount of time I've spent recently travelling back and forth to hospital for members of the family....

 and then up comes the lovely "dVerse" thought for today and so here goes with my contribution.

thankyou dVerse!

!We are all on a journey!

 

Am I on a journey?

Is what is behind me

Influencing my thoughts,

My actions?

Or do I have the right to…,

The choice to…

Being who I am to…

Go forward in that being?

Can I not help

What the past has made me?

Am I always

I am?

What I was is no more

What I will be

Is the unknown.

It is not my “Iwasness”

Not my “Iwillbeness”

 It is in my “Iamness”

That I choose

 Now.

The End of The Line

I'm reposting this poem for dVerse Open link night week 41.

It's one that I like reading myself...if that's not too arrogant!

Also it takes me to a place that I love to go...the seaside!

I'm really only just getting into linking to all of these wonderful sites.

So a big thankyou to dVerse for the opportunity to get my stuff...out there!

The End of the Line

Let’s go and live at the end of the line.
Where breakers fall over rolling stones.
We’ll board the train that we rode when young,
Watch how the steam mists our view of the sea
As it hisses and cools on the iron and the brass.
And the cry of the gulls as they dive, as they soar
Will welcome us back
Will welcome us back.

Let’s board the train that we rode long ago,
Where the end of the line will have water and sand.
We’ll be welcomed again by the crying of gulls
The smell of spun sugar and hot lardy chips.
There, will be space enough for our thoughts
And salt winds that blow away stale urban fog.
To welcome us back,
To welcome us back.

They say that the crust is beginning to crack.
That the cold winds of change are blowing our way.
Yet when I take the journey again to the end
Of the line, where the seagulls are soaring above
To the edge of the tide, to the line in the sand.
The memory of all of things, of all being well
Embraces me back
Embraces me back.

a Poem for Thursday

In The Beginning.

In the beginning

There was

Walter de la Mare,

Robert Louis Stevenson

And

A.A. Milne

Rose Fyleman was there too

With

The Oxford Book of English Verse.

And there was a train

In the beginning,

Made out of chairs

Placed in a row.

And children,

Lots of children

Laughing,

As the words got faster.

In the beginning

Words made sense,

And sensibilities were easy to understand.

And that was in the beginning

When words floated around in the air,

And sometimes

Ended up inside my head.

And it was easy

To join them up

One to one

And twos to threes.

And often they joined up so fast

That they tumbled over one another

In joy.

And that was just the beginning.


When I was merely a five year old, my mother took me to a house down the road towards the city. 
That was the very beginning of my relationship with poetry.
I studied every week with this teacher until I was in my early 20s.
He instilled in me a love of rhyme and rhythm.
And also a deeper understanding of why people write poetry.
He had his favourite poets and playrights and I became part of that love.
Ibsen, Frost,Strindberg, MacNiece,Yeats,Whitman as well as the English Romantics .
What a priviledged experience!

This is linked to dVerse Poetics on dVerse.