2017: January Pre-Mourning

The night before the work starts
Our streets echo with lone travellers
This night of cold clear dread
As the new year shakes free
Of it’s champagne and fireworks
A mighty muted still
Fills up the dark

And in the raging dreams
Of all these people in their beds
Uncertain and alone in today’s cold sleep
Questions of fragility
Feed our hunger for dread
Spoiling this last bedtime
With what tomorrow brings

Outside in some dark corner
Of a Southern London home
I ponder how few deaths make many mourn
The slaps of conflict beat
Fresh tears from more bored eyes
Yet each hour too much life
Is bled and crushed in horror

For one more year has come on us
And forseers contort with doom
Such angry rhetoric, such mounting gloom
Yet this new year is not foretold
And harbours chances new
There’s not time to conjure lies
Just time to start the world.

The end of the world news, Ankakay via Flickr

The end of the world news, Ankakay via Flickr

Foray into self publishing

Status

great-news

Great news everybody!

There’s a real life self-published book available now.

This collection is a journey through a day; the space, faces and traces of the day as it whirls through to night. Each written from different times in my life, gathered into a measurable meander through here and now. Characters introduced are real, the feelings are honest and the end result is a succinct insight into many of the journeys each of us take from being a sleep to being awake.

Morning Tongue: A day in the grotty life is a celebration of that nagging voice in the back of one’s mind shouting that there must be more to it all than this. This book will bring warm senses of rhythm to your bosom, sanity to your crazy, and so on. The poems in this book are not available on the blog, although a few have been aired here for reflective purposes.

Published in hard copy and available to all good readers for £5.99 from the machinery of Blurb (yes, sucking the romance out of creativity, self-publishing is a route, much like previous great writers, along which I am tentatively toe-tipping)!

How do I get mine?

You may wish to get hold of one of these Softcover page-turners and can do so by contacting me directly. It will cost the same £5.99 but this price includes delivery (instead of adding the bonkers £6.99 delivery charge that blurb charge).

Rather modernly, there is also a digital version through amazon, which turns in at a much more reasonable £2.99 ($3.91) drastically improving your poem/penny return…

Join me on this journey and help share the stupendous clarity and touching-bared-soulfulness of Morning Tongue, A Day in the grotty life.

 

 

For wanting to share in this laconic exploration in the poetry of south London, I Thank You. All reviews, comments, insights, responses will be gratefully read through and filtered carefully.

Collected Poems

Status

Hello everybody!

In pursuit of the authorship dream, I am ready once again to leave the comfort of blogposting and create a real ‘thing’. To wit, three previously promoted pamphlets are now purchasable – for an incredible price – in one handy tome!

Alack, alay, the pictures present in previous incarnations of these three: August Stock, The Journey and Politics Poems, have been sacrificed in an attempt to consolidate any value in my writings. This Collected Poems does however give the reader (such as y’self), access to a broad spectrum of my work, in one portable edition. Brilliant!

The previous productions have now been deleted from Amazon and thank you for those select few who bought into my phrasings and helped support the ascent of Adam…

To sum up

This positively tuneful selection of available-nowhere-else poems from this English Hart (ahem, me!), also serves as a precursor to the impending announcement of a real-life book. More soon come.

National Poetry Day UK 6/10/16

2601

No more words about dreams
Please
I’ll erase those words once written
Please just write of things
Dear Hart
And leave your dreams to actions!

No more lies
Or what-ifs?
Or whys’
Pen only odes to stuff!

Quit procrastinations
Of each elevation
And do
what you
truly think is enough.

In Dreams I Am Healthy And Wealthy

The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)

The Nightmare, J Henry Fuseli (Wikipedia Source)

So dreams come each night differently –
Last night there was a foreign tramp eating our swans
We fought – I couldn’t find my voice
In dreams I often don’t

One night I may be lost in an enormous house
Or fleeing an ominous villain
At night these thoughts invade my head
Escape my bed
Fill up the dead of sleep

Sometime ago I dreamt of flying
Skimming treetops down steep slopes
A quick paced spring and over again
A divine dream of falling down

This is the trick of these night flicks
Filling my brain with illusion
Each day I awake
Into a lovely right life
And take a tick to bring peace to confusion

But even these dreams
As glorious as stars
Never leave me wishing
They were how things are
Even though in my dreams I am healthy and wealthy
I’m richest with my Malika

Dark Is Night

But,
Come the still of morning
there is light.

Dark is night
and,
here the mind is made
of trickery to fright.

Dark is night.
To this
Claim all dark battles
You should fight.

Dark is night
AYE!
In darker dreams
An inner peace can soar in flight.