Comments Stream

  • Kats

    From kats on Closure By Slideshow

    I so enjoyed this heartfelt write, and here, I think your words fit pretty much perfectly to the experience. Well-written and somehow the poem re-enacts the act, if you know what I mean. Onomatopoeia noted, but it’s subtle (or in my imagination?). Is that a photo of your old home? Beautiful. I stayed in a lovely B&B in West Yorks at the weekend with all the old welded so well to the new, which is my favourite type of building. Loved this.

    Kim x

    Go to comment
    2017/03/27 at 11:39 am
    • Gothicman

      From gothicman on Closure By Slideshow

      Thanks Kim, with the lecturer talking mainly in architectural terms, I wanted to include those “builder’s terms” to give a better impression of how earlier occupiers felt. No, this is a Googled picture of a similar house in Highgate, N. London, because it was in London yellow brick, and of the same Gothic-Revival style: ours was wider and less deep, and of upstairs/downstairs design, i.e. posh stairs up to the ground floor entrance with side door to basement instead of that more style-authentic red front door. I suffered the loss of all personal photographs when a car-burglar stole a suitcase (pub carpark), kept any resellable valuables, and threw the rest into a river, about thirty years ago. (police recovered) I’ve asked the lecturer for a copy of our house, but haven’t colllected it yet. Thanks again.
      Trevor x

      Go to comment
      2017/03/28 at 10:46 am
      • Kats

        From kats on Closure By Slideshow

        How awful. I hope so much you can get the photo. It sounds just wonderful and lovely. Houses really have characters. It took me a long time to ‘re-settle’ back into life in Edinburgh after 14 years away. As much as I always wanted to return here, and to Scotland particularly, the process takes time: one year in a rental home, then the move to a brand new ‘mortgaged’ home. which felt like a soulless box for the longest time. Place is so important.

        Kim x

        Go to comment
        2017/03/28 at 11:04 am
        • Gothicman

          From gothicman on Closure By Slideshow

          Yes, place is important, though some say they could move anywhere. Though changed enormously, wandering around the haunts of my childhood feels very special to me, It’s known that as one gets old, the first fifteen years become emotionally-woken again, but, presumably only if one had a happy childhood, without the need to forget. I love Edingburgh (apart from the sweet whisky, hop-brewing smell!) with it’s 8,000 protected culture-graded buildings and staired alleyways and courtyards and wonderful atmosphere. You’re very lucky. Do you never long to return to Plymouth?
          Trevor x

          Go to comment
          2017/03/28 at 12:47 pm
          • Kats

            From kats on Closure By Slideshow

            I grew up in Scotland (since the age of 5) and have regularly visited Plymouth as many relatives are there, not least, my soon-t0-be 95 paternal grandmother, who we are visiting for a week from Sat. I was already 5 days this year visiting her, but this is the first time in 2 years for the boys. I love Plymouth (Barbican and the Hoe) and Devon & Cornwall in general, of course, and on place, I could live, and hopefully find friends etc. anywhere, but after 14 years away, I wanted to return to Scotland and its (mostly) egalitarian spirit, which suits mine. Though, I may well venture on another adventure one day, depending on academic possibilities for Chris etc. It’s always good to keep an open mind and to never say never, Trevor. x :^)

            Go to comment
            2017/03/28 at 12:59 pm
  • Kats

    From kats on Spring (at last)

    A lovely and happy poem – really enjoyed it and presentation is delightful.

    Kim x

    Go to comment
    2017/03/27 at 11:32 am
    • Ionicus

      From ionicus on Spring (at last)

      Delighted that you liked this simple poem written in celebration of the late arrival of Spring this year. Thanks.
      Luigi x

      Go to comment
      2017/03/27 at 9:52 pm
  • Kats

    From kats on Spring Bride

    I so enjoyed this. Written with all the delightful ‘gay abandon’ of spring, throwing off winter’s togs. No critique to offer. Loved this. Written by a poetry pro, it seems. The metaphor is perfect.

    Kim x

    Go to comment
    2017/03/27 at 11:28 am
  • Ionicus

    From ionicus on Posing For The Bulgarian

    Ha, ha. Very funny Mick. If anyone asked to paint me in the nude I’d give them the brush-off.
    Cheers.

    Go to comment
    2017/03/27 at 11:10 am
  • Coolhermit

    From coolhermit on Last Summer in Clare

    I’m a tad superstitious in respect of numbers – love prime numbers , live in a prime number house. So, when at the printer to finalise a random misplaced semi-colon in the ‘acknowledgements’ of my soon to be unleashed book, “Not For Sale,” I mentioned that having 82 pomes made me uneasy he said,
    “It’s not too late to put one in.”
    So I added this pome to make the number up to 83 🙂

    Go to comment
    2017/03/27 at 8:55 am
  • Gothicman

    From gothicman on Caleta de Famara

    How I miss the roar and fury of Atlantic waves, Kim, more like village pond movement round my coastline! You took me there for a brief moment, for which I’m grateful. Trevor x

    Go to comment
    2017/03/26 at 9:15 pm
    • Kats

      From kats on Caleta de Famara

      Aw, thanks for that comment, Trevor. Smiling as I like your way with words. :^)

      ‘village pond movement round your coastline’ haha, but you are in luck as you will be having wee froggies soon – I guess they are in chorus now and getting together as they do. We’ll be getting down to our nearest pond regularly.

      Kim x

      Go to comment
      2017/03/27 at 11:21 am
  • Gothicman

    From gothicman on Springtime Samba

    Early signs of the rites of Spring, I can hear the air vibrating in your poem Eira. A joy to read as a reminder of warmer weather approaching after such a long Winter, especially here where I live. More Tango than Samba here though thankfully! Enjoyed!
    Trevor

    Go to comment
    2017/03/26 at 9:10 pm
  • Gothicman

    From gothicman on No Blandish for Miss Orchids.

    I’m a bit puzzled by this poem Gerry. It’s the title of an old book, made into a film, by a crime thriller writer who nom de plumes as James Hadley Chase, and which was inspired by the book “The postman always rings twice”? There my knowledge ends. What the hell is a blandish? Is it a rare orchid? Hahaha! No idea what you’re on about! Please elucidate! Well-composed narrative poem that leaves the uninitiated baffled. Probably my ignorance and sheltered life!
    Trevor

    Go to comment
    2017/03/26 at 9:03 pm
    • Ionicus

      From ionicus on No Blandish for Miss Orchids.

      In answer to Gothicman query, the transposition in the title from ‘No Orchids for Miss Blandish’ to ‘No Blandish for Miss Orchids’ should have been a clue to the poem being a parody.
      There is such a word as blandish, not a noun but a verb, which the Merriam-Webster dictionary describes as follows:
      transitive verb
      : to coax with flattery : cajole
      intransitive verb
      : to act or speak in a flattering or coaxing manner.

      In the context of the poem it could be interpreted as Miss Orchids not being the recipient of flattery and being envious of all her girlfriends who were. This is just my fanciful theory and very probably not the author’s intention who indulged in play-on-words.

      Go to comment
      2017/03/27 at 10:33 am
      • Gerry

        From gerry on No Blandish for Miss Orchids.

        Luigi thank you for your comment. I think that most people will know what Blandish means without looking it up – In this case it is most definately meant to indicate a noun. Of course in the original book it was the eponymous ladies name – so also a noun.. It wasn’t meant to be deep in any way, just light hearted. I honestly thought that the title of my poem would be the only clue necessary. It was published many years ago in an anthology.
        Regards
        Gerry.

        Go to comment
        2017/03/27 at 11:16 am
    • Gerry

      From gerry on No Blandish for Miss Orchids.

      Goth. thank you being the only one to comment on this Parody of NOFMB.
      I was just about to remove it from the site. It went down very well when first published on the old UKA. (and many pictures were sent in) 😉 The original book was banned in the UK, but it is now freely available and is considered by many to be the best book of its type ever written. James Hadley Chase wrote under many names and was extremely popular in his time. My poem was nothing more than a little parody of his book, just written for a laugh. Seeing you have been kind enough (or should I say brave enough) to comment I will leave it.
      You will have to read the book or use your imagination to work out what a Blandish is (no it isn’t one of those)…
      Maybe Amazon or the Library.
      Regards
      Gerry.

      Go to comment
      2017/03/27 at 10:01 am
  • Hoodedpoet

    From Hoodedpoet on Springtime Samba

    Clever poem, meticulously rhymed and scanned.

    Go to comment
    2017/03/26 at 8:57 pm
  • Hoodedpoet

    From Hoodedpoet on A Morning Call

    Neat, spicy little poem.

    Go to comment
    2017/03/26 at 8:56 pm
    • Ionicus

      From ionicus on A Morning Call

      Hello Hoodedpoet, welcome to the site.
      Just a few simple ingredients to spice up the sauce.
      Thanks for reading and commenting.

      Go to comment
      2017/03/26 at 9:53 pm