'Where rage consumes, nothing remains.'
The Sunset Vagabond
Some murderers and killers believe
that deep underneath Ragetown,
the stadium of rage and madness,
lies a vault with the strongest locks.
Drums accompany you up the steps
to a molten forged steel door,
sparks and embers
convulsing at the seams.
No one knows what lies behind them.
It may be a brimstone and lava torment,
fire rolling against the roof of chaos,
or maybe the white heat of anger
bursting into a vibrant bloom,
the frozen rage of old grievances,
so old they became crystallised,
fossilised and magnified,
formed over millennia
into the eye of the ichthyosaur,
a rim of untainted insanity
orbiting an infinite void
of eternal wrath.
(Happy World Poetry Day to all you poetry people out there! Hope the world is treating you all reasonably, and for those of you taking part in NaPoWriMo next month I wish you the best of luck. As a precursor to the madness ahead, what better than a poem literally about the heart of anger? Hope you enjoy and I'll see you all on the next poem!)
Thursday 21 March 2019
Wednesday 13 March 2019
Paraceratherium
When nature has day dreams, it goes to town on new designs.
The Paraceratherium, browsing on trees growing in an ancient desert.
Charcoal-plated skin makes it seem a towering, armoured beast,
giraffe neck and legs thick as elms with cloven feet,
rhinoceros face devoid of any horn, top lip grasping at leaves.
A beast destined for the plains mimics its forest-dwelling friends,
over-engineered and feared, no smart hunter will try their luck.
Someway down the line the great-great-great-great grandchildren
of this titan will shed his neck and sprout horns,
content to graze on the plains instead of reaching their ancestor's heights.
The Paraceratherium, browsing on trees growing in an ancient desert.
Charcoal-plated skin makes it seem a towering, armoured beast,
giraffe neck and legs thick as elms with cloven feet,
rhinoceros face devoid of any horn, top lip grasping at leaves.
A beast destined for the plains mimics its forest-dwelling friends,
over-engineered and feared, no smart hunter will try their luck.
Someway down the line the great-great-great-great grandchildren
of this titan will shed his neck and sprout horns,
content to graze on the plains instead of reaching their ancestor's heights.
Friday 1 March 2019
Happy St. David's Day 2019!
Hello everyone, once again it's St. David's Day here in Wales, and having spent most of the day in Cardiff, it's positively buzzing.
Given our recent success with rugby in the Six Nations, the celebrations this year seem re-energised, with a large parade going back and forth through the city streets. The dragons, daffodils and bake-stones are in abundance. In Frynwys this morning the fields were dotted with patches of daffodils, and it's been one of the sunniest days we've ever had in February. All in all, it seems that this year's St. David's Day has been one of the most colourful on record, but what's happening in the world of Tiger Verse I hear you ask?
Well, things are proceeding at breakneck speed on this blog. Not only have I got another preview from the upcoming Mametz Wood poem to share, but there will also be a few new original poems coming next week. Alongside that, I can also see NaPoWriMo on the horizon again, so it will be all fingers to the keyboard for that.
In the meantime, hope you all have had a happy St. David's Day, and I'll sign off this post with a link to my guitar rendition of the Welsh National Anthem. See you all again soon.
Given our recent success with rugby in the Six Nations, the celebrations this year seem re-energised, with a large parade going back and forth through the city streets. The dragons, daffodils and bake-stones are in abundance. In Frynwys this morning the fields were dotted with patches of daffodils, and it's been one of the sunniest days we've ever had in February. All in all, it seems that this year's St. David's Day has been one of the most colourful on record, but what's happening in the world of Tiger Verse I hear you ask?
Well, things are proceeding at breakneck speed on this blog. Not only have I got another preview from the upcoming Mametz Wood poem to share, but there will also be a few new original poems coming next week. Alongside that, I can also see NaPoWriMo on the horizon again, so it will be all fingers to the keyboard for that.
In the meantime, hope you all have had a happy St. David's Day, and I'll sign off this post with a link to my guitar rendition of the Welsh National Anthem. See you all again soon.
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