UNLUCKY NUMBER

Posted on Apr 8, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

For today’s prompt, write a lucky number poem. Some people have lucky numbers, some don’t. Wherever you fall on the lucky number spectrum, you can still write a poem about the phenomenon of lucky numbers and/or luck in general.

Monday 8th April 2019

DAY EIGHT

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

UNLUCKY NUMBER

by John Yeo

Hooray! The expected parcel arrived today,
Six foot tall and very heavy
My bookcase, flat packed in pieces.
Excitedly I open the box to search
For the self-assembly instructions.

These are obviously the sides,
This must be the top and bottom
Where are the instructions?
White plastic packaging to preserve
The parts from damage in transit.

Some small packages of nuts and bolts,
Metal brackets and rails.
Where are the instructions?
Ah! Paper on the bottom very clear,
The instructions written in Mandarin?

Horror of horrors, I telephone the UK number,
Sorry the number you are calling is busy.
I take a screwdriver and begin the task,
The bookcase is coming together,
I try phoning the number again, still busy.

I continue the task of fitting together
The cabinet, with tools and my instinct,
I fit the parts, the bookcase stands tall
I try the unlucky number again; still busy,
I tear the instructions up my task completed;
Using self help as my guide.

MUSING ON PROCRASTINATION

Posted on Apr 8, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

I wrote this post for ‘The Quintet’ our church magazine in response to the theme of…PROCRASTINATION.

MUSING ON PROCRASTINATION

by John Yeo

I now appreciate absolutely, the meaning of the word, PROCRASTINATION

When we returned from the church service today I had every intention of beginning work on the next chapter of my book. First the iPad was the lure away from the work in hand, I found there were many light hearted, unnecessary things that needed my urgent attention, such as who has read and liked my latest posting on the social media. The Scrabble word game App takes another slice of my valuable time as I sit and think, and work out various combinations of letters to defend my honour. We enjoyed tea and biscuits, before the continuation of a drama series began on television and this took my attention away from the keyboard and the continuation of my story.

By this time I am renewing my resolve to begin work! But before I begin I have to just check on the outside world on the social media pages again, then Margaret and I do battle at Scrabble and complete our game.

I still haven’t written one word and it is time for dinner. Margaret has been preparing a wonderful meal in the kitchen and we sit and enjoy our Sunday dinner together in front of the television.

I then begin to focus in spite of the pull of the interesting selection of programmes that are being broadcast at this peak period on a Sunday evening.

I then give up writing and procrastinate by reading and posting an article on procrastination on my social media page before I retire to read poetry in bed.

PROVERB

Procrastination is the thief of time, if you delay doing something, it will take longer to do later on.

NATURAL JEALOUSY

Posted on Apr 7, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Woo-hoo! We’re a week into this challenge. Let’s keep at it! For today’s prompt, write a jealous poem. Maybe you’re jealous. Or maybe someone else is jealous of you–or someone else. Whether envious of another or suspicious of a partner, dive deep into this emotion today.

Sunday 7th April 2019

DAY SEVEN

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

NATURAL JEALOUSY

by John Yeo

Jules was a man with a mission
A man who was dedicated and firm
A man who was incredibly competitive
The opposition had a lot to learn.
Jules put a lot of effort into his creation
Nurtured his monster cabbage with care
Used the finest plant food available
To build a specimen succulent and rare.

Peter was the epitome of the competition,
A grower who bent all the rules.
He nurtured his vegetables with loving care
Laughed at the efforts of his rival, Jules.
The growers vied for the ultimate prize
The best in show at the village fair.
Jules showered his cabbage with care
Peter’s concern was the ultimate size.

That was where the similarity ended,
As jealousy raised its ugly head.
Jules became extremely offended
Over a chance comment carelessly said.
Peter’s cabbage was suddenly nibbled
By a thousand yellow caterpillars.
It was a mystery where they appeared from
As Jules cabbage looked equally troubled.

Finally the prize went to Mary and Jane
They stole the prize for the best in show.
Peter and Jules came to furious blows
As their competitive spirits rose.
Both accused one another outwardly
Of introducing the offending grubs.
They took their wives Mary and Jane
For a night out in two of the local pubs.

AFTER THE SEED WAS SOWN

Posted on Apr 6, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Saturday 6th April 2019

DAY SIX

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

AFTER THE SEED WAS SOWN

by John Yeo

Was it just a babble of words
That swirled around in my fertile brain?
No, laughed my erstwhile teacher/advisor
Sorting through my scribbled ideas.
‘That’s the seed of a new line of thought
Searching for the moment to erupt.
After much cogitation and fertile study
Into a complete circle of answers sought.’

I searched shadows of ideas in my brain
As the sparkling neurons were lit,
My thoughts began to take shape
New information fed my ideas again.
As the budding concept grew large
Familiarity made the connections secure.
Growth of my ideas helped to demonstrate
A new line of knowledge began to emerge.

AFTER THE SEED WAS PLANTED

Posted on Apr 6, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “After (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “After Dinner,” “After You,” “After Hours,” and/or “After I Finish Writing This Poem.”

Saturday 6th April 2019

DAY SIX

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

AFTER THE SEED WAS PLANTED

by John Yeo

Was it a speck of dust
that had flipped into an empty packet?
No, laughed my chief garden advisor.
Looking a wee bit nonplussed,
‘That is a potential Petunia plant
Searching for the right conditions.’
Although I was still none the wiser
I prepared a natural environment.

After the seed was planted
Moisture was added to the mix
Of enriched potting compost,
The tiny seed began to get started.
Change developed slowly but surely
As metamorphosis began,
Two tiny leaves unfurled in the process,
A new plant life had begun its story.

HOPE

Posted on Apr 5, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Thursday 5th April 2019

DAY FIVE

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

For today’s prompt, write a stolen poem. And no, don’t steal anyone’s poem! But you can write about doing such a thing. Or stealing hearts, stealing time, stealing minds.

HOPE

by John Yeo

My child has left and gone to work
I lie here alone with my thoughts,
I will not stir, I will not move, I am in pain.
My little girl Hope is twelve years old
Takes care of everything for us both,
Since her mother left us alone again.
When the sadness descended on me.

Hope gets up at dawn to prepare our meal,
Fetches water to wash the clothes,
She cleans the room and takes good care of me.
Hope hides when visitors come to the door
We both need her here to be free, with me.
Hope works in a sweatshop making clothes
for the fat people over the sea.

As I lie here alone the rats appear,
They scuffle around then leave, foodless.
When the landlord calls to collect the rent,
I have noticed the way he looks at my Hope
As she pays him from her paltry earnings.
Mischievous, malevolent lascivious looks
That bode no good for my child.

School for Hope was a couple of years
In a shack for a classroom until;
Her mother left us and Hope went to work.
She has no time for friends or parties
New clothes or games and playing sport,
No time for laughter or enjoying a book.
Hope is too busy working to stop and look.

Selfishly I lie here and let things be.
I know I can never let Hope be free
We are tied to each other irrecoverably,
It is too late for all but my sympathy.
I know I’m a thief and I can clearly see
I have stolen a precious commodity.
The innocent freedom of childhood.

EDVARD MUNCH

Posted on Apr 4, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Thursday 4th April 2019

DAY FOUR

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

For today’s prompt, pick a painter, make him or her the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible painters include Salvador Dali, Frida Kahlo, or Pablo Picasso. Of course, you don’t have to go with the big names.

Edvard Munch

By John Yeo

Full of inward fascination,
With an outer gloss of trepidation,
I was entranced by a painting.
A face full of fear and suffering
Shocked beyond all reasoning
With a sad mentality unraveling.

With my curiosity blindly aroused
I couldn’t help thinking out loud.
‘Whoever actually painted this
Must have also suffered painfully’
Edvard Munch a Norwegian artist
Created this work empathetically.

‘The Scream’ an iconic painting.
Reflected art as inward suffering.
Revealed by the artists inward
fear of his own tortured soul.
A legacy of a creative journey toward.
A mirror of beautiful painful love.

Quotes by Edvard Munch

‘From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.’

‘Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye… it also includes the inner pictures of the soul.’

TECHNOLOGY

Posted on Apr 3, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Wednesday 3rd April 2019

Day Three

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

For today’s prompt, write an animal poem. The poem could be about an animal. Or it could just mention an animal in passing. Or include an animal in your title and fail to mention the animal once in your poem. Your poem, your rules.

TECHNOLOGY

by John Yeo

If animals could communicate clearly
And we could understand their thought,
If the Lions could talk to the Lambs
Would the thought processes differ really,
Or give answers to the problems sought
If Bears could converse with Orang-Utans?

How could we eat creatures who question
Our motives for making a meal of them,
Without giving their feelings a thought?
Communication would aid the digestion
Of plants and seeds and bugs. What then?
If Chickens and Turkeys were able to talk.

If Horses became clever with logistics.
Or Pigs preached the wisdom of the ages
Ants could help to govern all smoothly
Monkeys could be studying simplistics
While Ducks would be veritable sages
Humans would be lost in technology.

People have lost the talking habit
Most of them are lost in their phones
People no longer look up and around
No time to chat to a passing Rabbit.
Bees plainly buzz these walking Drones
Who shuffle by without making a sound.

If only People would communicate clearly.

WORST CASE / BEST CASE

Posted on Apr 2, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Tuesday 2nd April 2019

And today is actually a special day: Two for Tuesday! Pick one prompt or use both…your choice!

Day Two

Robert Lee Brewer’s Poem-A-Day on Writers Digest

Write a worst case poem. What’s the worst that could happen?
Write a best case poem. Take the worst and reverse it!

WORST CASE

by John Yeo

I’m not kidding you this is actual truth.
We were waiting by the airport carousel
Waiting for our luggage to hove into view.
Tommy our youngest nearly jumped through the roof.
There’s our case Mum! I know it so well
It’s really old and tatty and a muddy blue.

It wasn’t our suitcase passing through.
A smart lady stepped forward and blushed.
Then grabbed her case from the carousel.
Tommy piped up to apologise, right on cue.
Although suddenly conversation was hushed.
Sorry I thought I would be able to tell.
When I saw the worst case on the carousel.

BREXIT BEST CASE

by John Yeo

Weighing up the evidence was a chore,
When coming to an impossible decision.
The choice could have gone either way.

I leave to you all my favourite choices
Without suffering fear of tears or derision
We will get an answer come what may.

Come to a conclusion don’t go to war
Accept the answers that’s our mission.
Concentrate, focus, let’s hope and pray

Don’t let our efforts crumble, waste away
Dithering and manoeuvring sad but sure
Will never realise a conclusion to embrace.

When we go it alone without a deal
Armageddon and disaster will surely follow.
The futile factions will never agree.

The best case for an orderly Brexit is clear,
Close your eyes the next move is simple
Let’s just communicate without the fear.

Either stay put or get the hell out of here!

BIRDSONG

Posted on Apr 2, 2019 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

Monday 1st April 2019

This is a response to Robert Lee Brewers Poem a day for the month of April 2019.

Day One.

For today’s prompt, write a morning poem. Maybe you’re a morning person, maybe not. Your poem can be about a morning. Or it can be set during the morning. And those who’ve done this before probably already know that I have no problem with you interpreting this as a “mourning poem.”

BIRDSONG

By John Yeo

M	T	W	T	F	S	S
			1	2	3	4
5	6	7	8	9	10	11
12	13	14	15	16	17	18
19	20	21	22	23	24	25
26	27	28	29	30	31

	Armann and Kaymann on Wild Walk – Sunday 19th…
	John Yeo on Spring Flowers
	John Yeo on Just Because
	ladyleemanila on Just Because
	notestowomen on Spring Flowers

BIRDSONG

Dawn breaks on a mist dampy day

Frost fills the air and colours the parkway,

January shadows, loom and recede

Not a sound to shatter the icy mead.

Then, a deep-throated sonata from a nearby bush

A fusion of birdsong to break the hush

Rising and falling to colour the morning

A Blackbird song signals a new day dawning.

The rich fluty quality, the tuneful sound

Resounds and is heard for miles around

This natural symphony is a beautiful warning,

A territorial stakeout, he is seriously performing.

He whistles and warbles sweet sound in profusion,

Smooth trilling notes with a melody in perfect fusion,

My eyes narrow in the cold morning light

To catch sight of the songster before he takes flight.

The silence seems melodic and richly outspoken,

Then, the smooth flow of notes is suddenly broken,

A cry of alarm sounds, wings flap with a whir

The Blackbird flies from the danger of feathers or fur.

His natural defense against Man, Feline or Hawk,

Against the danger of attack or predatory stalk,

He will surely return when the threat is gone,

Safety beckons and he will take up his song.

A melody of love and careful protection

Of his territory, his nest after careful selection.

The beautiful warning resumes, a mass of sound,

Tuneful, melodic with a clarity profound.

Lifting my spirits, all danger is past

I return to my allotment and take up my task.

I turn the soil, suddenly with a whir of the wing

A blackbird arrives for food for his offspring.