Monthly Archives: December 2017

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Poem: Friends

Poem: Friends

Could a ray of light be brighter,

Than the sparkle in your eye ?

The smile thats full of diamonds,

Your hair like gold & rye !

We find a friend

We feel complete

We touch the sky

We shed a cry

We hear the beat

I touched your lips, the softness

sweet music in the air.

I felt your skin, the warming

A face , your beauty fair .

So each moment is unique

The clock ticks on

The high clouds Sweep

We find a friend

We feel complete

We touch the sky

We shed a cry

We hear the beat

it Echoes …..reverberates

our Universe …..pulsates

my Heart… ….generates

The power of joy

The elation , the fun

The laughter & smiling

The Feeling of ONE.

We find a friend

We feel complete

We touch the sky

We shed a cry

We hear the beat

LIam

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My Bio

My Bio

MY poetry is written with an intuitive passion for rhythm, action and flow.

The content is mostly congruent, meaningful, thought provoking and interesting.

My poetry is magnified when spoken.

It will demand concentration, perhaps even repetition before you discover the pulse.

Enjoy the beauty of our spoken word.

My best to you dear friend.

Liam

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Poem: Imminent

The imminent

In the frailty of this uncertain moment.

between the draw of a breath

The uncertain thud of my heart .

Me In waves I wonder why.

Why should it be I?

I who caught the chill.

The dark death filled thrill of disease .

It’s Inevitability, my fragility.

This uncertain momentary me.

Between the telephone calls.

Between the doctors stalled look.

Between the jagged stabs of self inflicted pity.

I wonder-where my soul

Will go, when my body

Turns the key

Turns away from life to die.

To let me go

To let me fly

To let infinity fill the view

To touch the eternity I once knew.

Loved shared laughed and grew.

From a lad from the family that made so glad, happy too.

Those days abundant care filled free.

Returns the chill to the now, of me.

Imminent  this immortality.

Liam December 2017

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Poem: My days grown old

Poem: My days grown old .

My days grown older,

Years, tales, life unfolds .

The mold of me,

The laugh the worry the joy the pain the plain, day free.

Yes it’s me!

Etched deep, in my visage the years.

Yet I am still the same, no fears.

The same old me,

rich lines my profile shows.

My eyes,

Own smiles now.

Fine lines laugh each every way.

Each play a role, in the day by day.

Once,

We owned the bud of youth,

Soft cherub cheeks

Filled our angels mask,

Now past, yet still.

She is beside me,

Unseen, unheard her wings are always near.

A feather brushed away the tear

A smile shared in my own eye

A knowing helping hand

Stands to strengthen all

Should we fall, Should we stall,

Should we need the help & call.

Gentle now I smile I cry,

With life & time gone by,

Let that angel,

Through me ….

With me,

In me,

FLY.

Liam

Basthorst Dez 2013

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Poem: The Kiss

Poem: The Kiss

Morning blue spread wide across an open sky,

My thought caught the kiss as you flew by.

Synchronicity’s ring,

Phone goes pling.

Alone I lie.

Your selfy puckered lips I miss.

Were the ones that sent that kiss.

The miss, the moment, the meaning of just you.

I’ve often wondered how,

The magic meaning of just now.

….Pling…

We instantaneously know its true.

The me, the you, the who.

We are and have become.

Yet, would you let it pass?

Let this fade, our colours fragmenting in particles.

Dusty whisps which will float

Alone a memory.

Alone in light.

Alone the sofa.

Where we might have spent,

Another gorgeous loving night.

Morning blue spreads wide across a fresh new sky.

The lips I kiss, the you I miss.

The day begins.

Why do I wet my cheek?

A tear, my fear, my cry?

I wonder who are you and who am I.

Liam March 2017

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Poem: Autumn 🍂

Poem : Autumn

Autumns gold nips chilly at my finger tips,

Pale blue spreads fresh, across an open sky,

A Lark ring sings cheerful echoes passing by.

Peaceful captured , moment morning here am I.

The Beech crown sheds its leaf so slow

Golden treasure scattered freely far below

While Chestnut throws in handfuls free, Brown round nuts,

seeking happy children find with glee.

The wild rose,

reds & mauves now dry,

fragrant perfumed memory,

paint my inner eye.

While rose hip swollen buds await the fearless touch.

From those whom thorns & jelly mean so much.

Fields fresh shawn, grain set free.

Harvest past let merry be,

the folk , the farmer , you & me

It’s time to take that cup of tea.

Autumns turning chime, the season here to be.

Liam

Eckernforde October 2012

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The importance of poetry.

Importance is a subjective indicator of poetic value. As a concept, poetry is the recognized attribution of a subject’s significance or value as defined by a perspective .

In its most basic form, poetry is used to define subjects that are essential and relevant from those that are not.

Poetry as “having meaning or worth, deserving or requiring attention, and having power, authority, or influence. Affecting subjective change through objective importance.

Liam

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What is poetry?

Poetry (the term derives from a variant of the Greek term, poiesis, “making”) is a form of literature that uses aesthetic and rhythmic qualities of language—such as phonaesthetics, sound symbolism, and metre—to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, the prosaic ostensible meaning. The art of audial imaginative imagery.

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