Polly

Writings and Witterings


24 Comments

Bones Under A Bridge

Tiny pile of bones
under a bridge
you were found out;
talked to the hawk,
or a murder of crows.
Maybe your first love,
the one that found you
in flagrante
set you up,
or perhaps the second
who had the pleasure
of hearing your infidelity;
selfish, you will be alone.
The bridge didn’t help.
We will celebrate
bones ‘neath the bridge.
No one cares.

Polly Robinson © 2015


20 Comments

A Fine Disregard

Written early in 2013…perhaps I had an inkling…

A Fine Disregard for Awkward Facts

He has a true dislike
of anything uncomfortable;
will go to any length
to avoid,
to hide,
to circumnavigate the prickly
pear of confrontation.

When it comes to facts,
indisputable facts,
that he dislikes
he manages to ignore them completely,
utterly.
There are none so blind
as those who will not see.

Polly Robinson © 2013


6 Comments

Hare, Fox, and Owl

A hare a fox and an owl
met at the crossroads,
‘Come,’ said the fox, ‘show
me where we must hide
from the hunter.’
‘Oh,’ said the hare,
‘we don’t need to hide,
the hunters don’t seek
hares.’
‘Who, who,’ said the owl,
‘said they did?’

Polly Robinson © 2015

An update to a 2013 poem.


62 Comments

The Journey

Riding from far North they came
through snow and sleet and sheeting rain.
Ice formed behind them, frosted, cracked
red dragon scales, in parts, looked blacked.
On wings sheer clipped, their fire breath quenched,
onward, moving South, they went.

Flying ahead of the sunset West:
werewolves; sprites in fiery vests;
pixies pointing ears to learn
where coal black jackdaws crash and burn.
There is no place to hide.

Then from the sunrise in the East
the faerie queen on bounding beast
the size of which sees grown elves weep.
They hear her voice so light (though deep)
control the slavering ride.

Inch by inch from the dry drought South
carrying dead sheep in its mouth
the Kraken, skin scabbed, wracked and ripped
scouts for the havering hare who nips
at the frail fingers of sylvan wamblers.

Polly Robinson © 2014

Reposting this especially for Poetics: Snowed Under, Iced In, Cosying Up – not sure about the ‘cosying up’ bit though… ;)


44 Comments

Dry January

Poetry is alive and well,
plus it’s Björn’s birthday – that’s so swell.
What celebrations there will be
lots to eat and drink; he’ll be merry,
unless he’s doing ‘Dry January,’
like folk in the UK for charity.
There are other ways to get a message across
without such promo’s and all that dross.
If we want to give, we’ll give and then
many will give and give again;
no need for novelties, or bigging up,
we just do it quietly, without all that truck.
Those who commit to a better world
can do without a public fuss unfurled,
they quietly get on with helping others,
not suggesting time needed to recover
from a month of no alcohol like we’re in prohibition.
All I say is…don’t make it a tradition.

Polly Robinson © 2015

 

For dVerse Open Link Night. Join in at Open Link Night – January


13 Comments

The Key

Helen’s reflection looked coldly at her,
knock, knock on the door–a visitor
perturbed her, disturbed her reverie.
She rose from the chair, put the mirror away
she wasn’t expecting a caller today.
‘Who’s there?’ she squinted through the spyhole

‘I’ve something for you,’ said George, he was bold.

‘George!’ she exclaimed, ‘I don’t want to argue,
‘Put my key in the letterbox–go! Go!’

‘Oh no,’ wheedled George, ‘not so quick my lady,
‘open the door, be civilized, your key
‘won’t be left, unless, immediately,
‘you open the door and talk to me.’

‘I won’t let you in,’ cried Helen, ‘the laptop!
‘You said you’d take it and I won’t let it go.’

‘Open the door, let me in, you madam,
‘how many times have I told you before?’

Polly Robinson © 2015

Another list of things to fit into a piece of writing from a recent workshop:

  • A laptop computer
  • An unexpected caller
  • A mislaid key
  • Helen
  • A confrontation
  • Reflection

 

Try it–it’s fun :)


20 Comments

Today’s Moon Face

The moon is in Taurus
today, a First Quarter,
a young lunar growing
it never falters;
tomorrow waxing gibbous
it moves to Gemini,
slight silver shining disk
sultry in night skies.
Oxygen, silicon,
other traces…
we speculate
– it illuminates –
phases pass faces.

Polly Robinson © 2015

With acknowledgement to www.sanhujinka.org

With acknowledgement to http://www.sanhujinka.org