WORDLE FREAKS

My response today to Doris Emmett’s Post-a-Day challenge. 

WORDLE FREAKS

Awake again at four am,
I reach for my phone and switch on.
A cursory glance at world events.
The messages and emails can wait.
I search for the familiar link.
It’s Wordle-ing time again.

Click and thirty blank boxes appear
Piled up in six lines of five squares.
I tentatively enter a first attempt
Searching for green or yellow.
With varying results as the letters
Seem to defy my linguistic power.

Usually I arrive at the right solution
After much frustration or sheer elation.
Then it’s off to share my results with
My fellow Wordle freaks, H. and M.
We compare results over the net
Who is a dunce? Who will be champ of the day.

©️ John Yeo

UNCERTAIN CHANGE

UNCERTAIN CHANGE
by John Yeo

Did your physicality really leave?
I never began to understand.
Everything seems the same.
I expect you to walk in anytime.
The influences we shared together.

Habitual pleasures blended.
The TV’s tuned to the same station
I never liked that show.
I watch it though, just in case.
Life goes on in strange uncertainty.

I hardly noticed the subtlety of alteration
Things moved so slowly almost invisibly
Slowly and silently our familiar relations
Different aspects begin to affect me.
You are gone, yet somehow you never left. 

©️ John Yeo

FREE SPIRIT

My response today to Doris Emmett’s Post-a-Day challenge

FREE SPIRIT
by John Yeo

The wind is a spirit set free,
Gusty and wild without restraint
A wild wind is a raging beast
Angry power unrestrained,
Gusting whirlwinds on the horizon
The wind will always be free.

Wind power can be a force for good
Cool breezes wafting, fanning,
Dancing airwaves across the sea,
Warm thermals softly gusting,
A calm wind is a passive friend
The wind will always be free.

We use the force of the powerful wind,
We harness the power not the wind
The wind is a spirit set free,
The wind will always be free.

©️ John Yeo

POETIC BIRTH

THE MIRACLE OF POETRY

A spark of dormancy waits for discovery

Encased in a fuzzy cloud of mundanity.

When time and the mixture of conditions allow

Growth begins from within the uncertainty.

A creation of beauty is slowly awakening.

~

The power and the perils that await the entity,

When a fragile poem becomes stronger with time.

The magical moment when a muddle of words

Takes solid shape in a rough draft outline.

A creation shaped slowly by poetic thought.

​~

Words encased in fine vibrancy, line by line.

Ringing through the portals of the poet’s mind.

The entity that grew from a shapeless design.

A thing of beauty with strength and fluidity

Produced and nurtured from a tiny thought.

A vision; then the growth of beauty in words.

©️ John Yeo

Have a wonderful day 🌼

“I love Writing because~~~? 

My response today to Doris Emmett’s Post-a-Day challenge. 

“I love Writing because~~~? 

It fulfills an expressive need

To work my fertile imagination.

A need to plant a literary seed

To stimulate a critical reaction.

I am a fisherman of verbal thought,

I bait my hook with evocative words

To catch the compliments and praise.

For my ability to put words together.

I don’t throw my words back in the air,

I write as I think, clear and free.

Rhyming or blank verse, I fire away,

My words become a part of me.

Writing is a way of recording life

A way of expressing my dreams

A way of breaking the shackles

That imprisoned the unexpected.

Writing is a disposable record.

A push on the delete button

Or a permanent revelation?

©️ Written by John Yeo

Best regards

WILLY

WILLY

My response to Doris Emmett’s Post-a-Day. 

Today I thought I would explore the deep issues around a sadly underdeveloped ego. I think we are all  products of our upbringing and the polishing and influence of those around us as we grow up. I came up with this interesting character and wrote this Villanelle poem. Look out for the story later.

WILLY

Willy was a veritable dancing freak

Considered something of charmer

Sadly a man with a doubtful streak.

He was full of gall and infernal cheek

His hide as thick as plated armour

Willy was a veritable dancing freak.

His dancing steps were quite unique

He’d tread on toes without a murmur

A man with a doubtful streak.

Willy was a cheeky pipsqueak

With the attitude of a public scorner

Willy was a veritable dancing freak.

With long grey hair and bearded beak

He had difficulty finding a partner

A man with a doubtful streak.

Willy sometimes in a fit of pique

Would hide himself away in a corner

Willy was a veritable dancing freak

Sadly a man with a doubtful streak-

©️ John Yeo

DAMION

SATURDAY 17th OCTOBER 2020 ~ FLASH FICTION 

PROMPT ~ Three words: Long lost brother.

DAMION

by John Yeo

   I was curious to find an unexpected visitor on my doorstep when I returned from work today. I encountered a man who looked about ten years older than me leaning up against the doorpost. He had long fair hair, with striking green eyes. His eyes were noticeable as he had a permanent squint and he wore a pair of rather large plastic spectacles. He was over six feet tall and towered above me as he gave an impudent grin and said, ‘Hi! Pleased to meet you. I’m Damion, your long lost step brother.’

 These words were delivered with a broad West Country accent. I was taken aback and I looked up at him and replied, ‘Are you mad? I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Get out of here before I call the police and have you removed.’

   ‘Hear me out and I will explain, I promise you we’re brothers, we have the same father, George Alexander. I was born in Somerset, where our father had set up a second home with my mother. I was the product of that relationship.’  This was said with the same impertinent grin.

    I responded angrily, ‘You’re obviously mistaken Damion! You look nothing like me and I don’t believe a word of your story. Now get out of here before I call the police.’

  He nonchalantly grinned and pulled a large envelope from his pocket and withdrew some photographs.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

EQUILIBRIUM

My response to Doris Emmett’s Post-a-Day.

We are surrounded by words and phrases that neatly and conveniently mask or cover-up something much more deep  seated, challenging or complex; real issues and fundamental concerns, that become more palatable, easier to distance ourselves from and ignore or live with, when parcelled up in a neat, sometimes glib or euphemistic, word or phrase.  

 As I have almost completed ten years of living as a septuagenarian and I see the ominous deadline when I will officially become an octogenarian approaching, I feel I can safely sit and ponder on words that seem to be particularly significant.

 EQUILIBRIUM

Welcome aboard the good ship Equilibrium

Often tossed and shattered by the storms of life,

Battered by waves of discontent or sadness.

Sometimes sailing fair in a calm sweet wind

Sailing smoothly through life on an even keel.

Guided by warm breezes with a steady wheel.

Sometimes with lovebirds, sometimes with crows,

Equilibrium balances the highs and the lows.

The delicate balance of the Equilibrium

Can be altered or adjusted to reflect a whim.

Remove a comforter from a baby’s mouth

Equilibrium is instantly noisily shattered.

With howls and tears and eyes that are wet

The comfort-zone, considerably upset.

Sometimes with lovebirds, sometimes with crows,

 Equilibrium balances the highs and the lows. 

 Does the Equilibrium adjust as the body ages

Altering, reshaping to take in new parameters?

When we are young we fall deeply in love

The mind is soaring, love is all that matters.

With hearts beating faster and eyes dilated

The world has more colour, almost recreated.

Sometimes with lovebirds, sometimes with crows,

Equilibrium balances the highs and the lows.

How do you measure Equilibrium, always changing?

In youth Equilibrium is dynamic, always rearranging.

A senior citizen, a new direction, becoming a retiree.

The time when Equilibrium becomes shaky and weak

With many falls, hands shaking and joints that ache.

By what criteria do we judge Equilibrium?

Sometimes with lovebirds, sometimes with crows,

Equilibrium balances the highs and the lows.

Memories crowd in, that sometimes disturb,

Altering the balance of the Equilibrium.

Upsetting the delicate balance of thought.

Memories of long gone very close friends.

As age becomes us and leads to quiet pleasure

Equilibrium is surely impossible to measure.

Sometimes with lovebirds, sometimes with crows,

Equilibrium balances the highs and the lows.  

We cling to the promise and hope forever after,

 Unique equilibrium will always be balanced. 

EQUILIBRIUM IS SURELY IMPOSSIBLE TO MEASURE!

©️ John Yeo

HAPPINESS

HAPPINESS

The height of happiness is attained
With the antidote as a mainstay,
Contentment with peace of mind maintained.

A water filled oasis on land reclaimed
An umbrella on a rainswept day
The height of happiness is attained.

Saturating floodwater safely drained
Fertile soil to grow food we pray
Contentment with peace of mind maintained.

The storm recedes, normality regained,
The sun shines, warming misery away,
The height of happiness is attained.

Happiness returns as normality is sustained
Help for the hungry without delay,
Contentment with peace of mind maintained.

A pen or a keyboard with thoughts reclaimed.
With peace and sunshine, freedom to re-say.
The height of happiness is attained
Contentment with peace of mind maintained.
©️ John Yeo