poems

Stupid Poetry…

~ ChanAtkins ~ Leave a comment

Three poems I published on Medium recently

Here are three poems I wrote recently and shared on Medium. I hope you like them! They were all a mix of found poetry and ‘normal’ poetry – by that I mean they all contain some things I overheard such as songs, news, people talking, and they all contain things I was thinking or feeling or seeing at the time, but they also all contain some lines I made up to help it all fit.

Stupid Poetry

Early morning
a two-tier sky
a world of dead grass
sun in our eyes
we’ll get there in the end
if you really wanna go
what we need we can’t have
unreality — we know
we just dance ourselves free
until we feel all right
say we can change, we can change
and dance on through the night
and we’ll write stupid poetry
that no one will ever read
to make life better in the moment
stupid you and stupid me

The Stag and the Orange Moon

my Converse on the dash, your hands on the wheel
deep down into the cold shadows
we travel with echoes of past us
in every song, alongside rivers
and across mountains, we were there
but now we are here
and one day, we will both disappear
do you remember when we were lost?
but it didn’t matter?
and I was sad about the dead deer
and the stiff badgers until
a giant stag stepped out in front
of an orange moon?
I’m falling like the leaves
and the trees will swallow you
what if I keep sinking?
what if we both just fade away?
time slips away, anyway
because we both know nothing matters
my bones ache — am I even alive?
lost, never coming home
but bound together, I take you
everywhere with me, you say;
let it go before it kills you
the time we had is lost
but I will always remember
the stag and the orange moon

In The Dark

In the dark, I know
death is always closer than you think
something in my eye
something in my teeth
there’s bits and pieces of me everywhere
a world underground
a weapon drawn

I just let it go
I sneak past
hawthorn trees hunched, deformed
a figure in black shaking back hair
something bored through hell
something in my throat
something in my skin

the stench of decay
mayflower blossom
some ancient magic, mine’s broken
as I climb to find the waiting forest
I see a green giant
bloated corpses, mangled deer
dead trees, in the dark

How To Be Happy

~ ChanAtkins ~ 1 Comment

a poem

Image by Tom from Pixabay

know your trees, say hello to the Oak
acknowledge the kindness of everyday folk
learn the legend of the Hawthorn and listen to birds
and never underestimate the power of words
don’t take it too seriously, smile, it’s okay
treat yourself daily and don’t lose the urge to play
be a bit weird and laugh at yourself
remember that love is bigger than wealth
talk to yourself, be your own best friend
accept you’ll be the only one left at the end
cause no harm, run free, be wild
never ever desert your inner child
watch clouds, see stories everywhere you go
there is peace and mystery in the everyday flow
of rivers and streams and winds through the trees
and don’t forget to plant seeds for butterflies and bees
be soft, be gentle, be nothing but kind
go barefoot, hug trees, because there isn’t much time
be true to yourself, reject all that is fake
more importantly of all, there must always be cake

Can I Tell You About My Favourite Trees?

~ ChanAtkins ~ 4 Comments

A poem

photo is mine

Can I tell you about some of my favourite trees?
Feel the need to share how they impact me
and I worry there might be something wrong with you
if you don’t have a favourite oak or two
I’ll start with the best one, the tallest oak in town
stands like a sentry, guarding over our home
the ‘twins’ are the next I want to show you
where one trunk grew greedy and split into two
and I’m greedy for oaks, I can’t get enough
even the sad hollow one that refuses to give up
there are a few oaks that look like octopi
some boughs scrape the ground while some reach for sky
round the corner squats the short fat angry one
and there is a dead one covered in rhododendron
the oldest are dying, but they’ll still outlive me
on them every day a buzzard perches proudly
further down the one I name ‘classic’ oak tree
it’s cliched ‘tree shape’ stands in a field of green
across the lane, the oaks stand tall and hold hands
creating a canopy of green over this land
but let’s not forget the ash, willow, hazel or beech
the sycamore, hawthorn, alder or holly trees
so many trees, do you know any of their names?
doesn’t passing without a smile, fill you with shame?
it’s a worry to me, something I can’t understand
people who don’t long to touch trees with their hand
touch them, hug them, climb them and breathe
what is wrong with you, if you don’t have a favourite tree?

photo is mine

Tuesday, A Slow Walk With An Old Dog

~ ChanAtkins ~ 2 Comments

I had a poem boosted on Medium!

I still can’t believe it. Getting boosted on Medium is a huge deal because it brings far more readers to your work which translates nicely to more earnings. I have been extremely lucky to have been boosted many times since I joined Medium over eighteen months ago, but I never, ever expected to get boosted for a poem! Poems and short form writing don’t do so well on Medium because they are so short, but it’s still a lot of fun to write them and in particular, I love responding to writing prompts.

I was thrilled to bits to have this poem boosted as it is my favourite one at the moment. It was written in response to a prompt from the Promptly Written publication which suggested keeping a gratitude journal and writing a poem a day from it.

I’ve been thinking about gratitude a lot lately so this was really timely for me and immediately caught my interest.

I wrote a poem for Monday which got a few reads and earned me a few pence, then posted the following poem for Tuesday, which was about walking my elderly dog Tinks down the lane. Getting boosted for this really means a lot as we all know she is on her last doddery legs and every moment with her is precious. For her poem to get boosted and seen by more people is just lovely.

Anyway, here it is, alongside a photo I took of her on the day in question.

image is mine

Just for while
we had the world to ourselves
in a moody silence
just the buzzard on the oak tree
looking over its shoulder
to follow our slow progress
just the fast flit of tiny birds
from one hedgerow to another
just the crows taking off lazily
and the pheasant on the fence post
just wandering alongside you
matching your feeble pace
and the age it takes
to get from here to there
and back again
is the time it takes
for everything to fall silent
for this beauty to breathe so slowly
that I can breathe with it
in, out, in, out
with the time to see, hear, taste and smell
the lonely land falling asleep
as winter creeps into
your old bones