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!

Seasonal Sales Pitch

Posted on Dec 13, 2015 by John Yeo | 4 Comments

Image from the net

Robert Brewer’s Poetry Prompts

“For today’s prompt, write a pushy poem. Maybe there’s a character in the poem who’s a little pushy, or maybe the poem is about pushing buttons or pushing people to do things. Or maybe the poem itself is a little pushy. Even animals can get pushy with other animals.”

http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/wednesday-poetryprompts-331

Seasonal Sales Pitch

By John Yeo

Come this way, step inside,
Your life will never be the same
After you invest.
Buy the product, quickly now,
Try the sensational luxuriousness.
The demand is high,
Everyone is after a slice of this.
Buy quickly, buy now,
Before the product sells out.

This is the seasons special star buy
The very latest in-thing.
Just what you have always wanted
Something you can never live without.
The news has spread all over town
Celebrities are purchasing these,
Everyone who is anyone.
Buy quickly, buy now,
Before the product sells out.

We have just a few left over,
From the peak of the sales boom.
We want to sell everything quickly
To make some valuable room.
I will make you a very special deal
Just for this very last week,
A bargain at half the usual price.
Buy quickly, buy now,
Before the product sells out.

PICK UP

Posted on Oct 21, 2014 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

SKY CRADLE

by John Yeo

I climb upwards and upwards, breathless,
I work my way to the top
The view from up here is priceless
It is a very high life from the cab.

Over two hundred metres high in the air
I am lord and master of all I survey,
The hoist is like a mechanical chair.
From high above, the city looks drab.

My machine is equipped with the finest hoist,
A huge bucket, wire and chains.
In the high stormy rain the air is moist
The sharp winds cut and viciously stab.

The signaller below, when the load is ready
Calls on the radio. Lift off. Lift and shift!
I manipulate the levers, keeping steady
Guiding the pick-up to the target slab.

It is a lonely contemplative life at the top,
There is much danger in my working conditions.
One false move and the load would drop
Causing much death and mayhem, below.

Photograph courtesy of Google images

HOLD The…………..

Posted on Sep 23, 2014 by John Yeo | 1 Comment

HOLD THE MUTE BUTTON
by John Yeo

Many passengers sharing a long-haul flight across the globe.
Transcontinental,
A darkened atmosphere.
Day turned into night.

An undercurrent of sound.
A babble,
A torrent of voices in a vacuum.
What is under discussion.

A flood of unidentified thought,
Mostly inconsequential,
Minds deprived.
Stimulus provided by a small screen in front of the eyes.

To a highly gifted sensitive mind,
Deprived of sensory stimulus,
Are these telepathic thoughts, voiced?
Or are they vocalised undercurrents?

Sitting in a cramped row of seats
In front of an illuminated screen,
Time drags on.
The sound continues unabated.
Sound delivered through a headset.

UNIDENTIFIABLE~~~~~~~

THE GET-TOGETHER

Posted on Sep 4, 2014 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

ROBERT LEE BREWER’S WEDNESDAY POETRY PROMPT.
http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/wednesday-poetry-prompts-278

For today’s prompt, write a framily poem. That’s not a typo. I’m thinking framily: friends and family (you know, like Sprint’s framily phone plan?). Okay, it’s a little silly using the word “framily,” but when have I avoided silly? Write a poem that involves (or is inspired by) your friends and family. Everyone should have a good story to tell, whether it’s funny, sad, serious, etc.

THE GET-TOGETHER

By John Yeo

The coach sped through the dark night,

We were on the way to grieve,

Sadness had gripped the dying embers

When Grandfather passed away.

Many people gathered to mourn his flight,

To wish him well, now he had taken his leave.

The get-together, the homily, everyone remembers.

A fine man with his humorous way.

Friends and family gathered, to respect his wishes.

A solemn occasion, the priest began to read

These words were his testament from beyond,

Addressed to us all as we waited.

My dear friends and family, I have no issues,

To leave. I love you all and I say God-speed!

Be as happy as I was, I love you together,

MY FRAMILY, I love you all still.

MALFUNCTION

Posted on Aug 28, 2014 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

ROBERT LEE BREWER’S WEDNESDAY POETRY PROMPT.
http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/wednesday-poetry-prompts-277
For today’s prompt, write a malfunction poem. Yes, I changed today’s originally planned prompt to fit today’s circumstances. Sometimes you just gotta have that kind of flexibility. However, not everyone handles malfunction the same: some roll with the punches, some throw punches, some throw fits, some quit, some try again, and so on. Plus, there’s any number of malfunctions out there: wardrobe malfunctions, mechanical malfunctions, and heck, I think many of my poems suffer a malfunction or three. Let’s get at it.

MALFUNCTION

By John Yeo

I have just had some very sad news,

My memory has not been too great

of late.

I forget what the Doctor actually said

Somehow I wasn’t in tune.

I had a vision that was too good to lose,

I felt the influence too sad to waste

or replace.

The Nurse took me home, I forget what she said,

I can almost hum the tune.

I got lost last week in our local mews,

It was scary to be alone in that place,

hard to retrace

the steps I took to my familiar homestead.

How did that music resume?

My family made me an offer too good to refuse,

I will go to paradise, a room of my own,

in a nursing home.

With many lovely people with blank friendly faces.

I am sure the tune will come to me soon.

Blame it on Fate

Posted on Jul 12, 2014 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

ROBERT BREWER’S WEDNESDAY POETRY PROMPT.
http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/wednesday-poetry-prompts-270

For this week’s prompt, take the phrase “Blame (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 “Blame it on the Rain,” “Blame Yourself,” “Blame the Bad Guys,” and so on.

Blame it on Fate

I worked very hard to get over the blight,
Then to fashion a quill that would actually write.
Pick the feather up and begin to sharpen
The end into a perfect nib.

An inkwell full of Indian ink,
Jet black and smooth almost velvet in texture,
Next a parchment that was specially prepared
To record the unfolding events.

The seers and prophets had forecast the end
Of the world as we know it is nigh,
They say the information was revealed,
From prophetic knowledge of old.

The sands of time have passed by the mark,
When we should be part of the past
The star in the North is still burning
The light is overcoming the dark.

Why is the end of the world so late?
I measured the sands and counted the days,
The solar and lunar forecasters will state
Scientific evidence will blame it on fate.

	John Yeo on Spring Flowers
	John Yeo on Just Because
	ladyleemanila on Just Because
	notestowomen on Spring Flowers
	John Yeo on HAPPINESS

Seasonal Sales Pitch

Come this way, step inside, Your life will never be the same After you invest. Buy the product, quickly now, Try the sensational luxuriousness. The demand is high, Everyone is after a slice of this. Buy quickly, buy now, Before the product sells out.

This is the seasons special star buy The very latest in-thing. Just what you have always wanted Something you can never live without. The news has spread all over town Celebrities are purchasing these, Everyone who is anyone. Buy quickly, buy now, Before the product sells out.

We have just a few left over, From the peak of the sales boom. We want to sell everything quickly To make some valuable room. I will make you a very special deal Just for this very last week, A bargain at half the usual price. Buy quickly, buy now, Before the product sells out.

SKY CRADLE

I climb upwards and upwards, breathless, I work my way to the top The view from up here is priceless It is a very high life from the cab.

Over two hundred metres high in the air I am lord and master of all I survey, The hoist is like a mechanical chair. From high above, the city looks drab.

My machine is equipped with the finest hoist, A huge bucket, wire and chains. In the high stormy rain the air is moist The sharp winds cut and viciously stab.

The signaller below, when the load is ready Calls on the radio. Lift off. Lift and shift! I manipulate the levers, keeping steady Guiding the pick-up to the target slab.

It is a lonely contemplative life at the top, There is much danger in my working conditions. One false move and the load would drop Causing much death and mayhem, below.

THE GET-TOGETHER

MALFUNCTION

I have just had some very sad news,

My memory has not been too great

of late.

I forget what the Doctor actually said

Somehow I wasn’t in tune.

I had a vision that was too good to lose,

I felt the influence too sad to waste

or replace.

The Nurse took me home, I forget what she said,

I can almost hum the tune.

I got lost last week in our local mews,

It was scary to be alone in that place,

hard to retrace

the steps I took to my familiar homestead.

How did that music resume?

My family made me an offer too good to refuse,

I will go to paradise, a room of my own,

in a nursing home.

With many lovely people with blank friendly faces.

I am sure the tune will come to me soon.

Blame it on Fate

Come this way, step inside,
Your life will never be the same
After you invest.
Buy the product, quickly now,
Try the sensational luxuriousness.
The demand is high,
Everyone is after a slice of this.
Buy quickly, buy now,
Before the product sells out.

This is the seasons special star buy
The very latest in-thing.
Just what you have always wanted
Something you can never live without.
The news has spread all over town
Celebrities are purchasing these,
Everyone who is anyone.
Buy quickly, buy now,
Before the product sells out.

We have just a few left over,
From the peak of the sales boom.
We want to sell everything quickly
To make some valuable room.
I will make you a very special deal
Just for this very last week,
A bargain at half the usual price.
Buy quickly, buy now,
Before the product sells out.

I climb upwards and upwards, breathless,
I work my way to the top
The view from up here is priceless
It is a very high life from the cab.

Over two hundred metres high in the air
I am lord and master of all I survey,
The hoist is like a mechanical chair.
From high above, the city looks drab.

My machine is equipped with the finest hoist,
A huge bucket, wire and chains.
In the high stormy rain the air is moist
The sharp winds cut and viciously stab.

The signaller below, when the load is ready
Calls on the radio. Lift off. Lift and shift!
I manipulate the levers, keeping steady
Guiding the pick-up to the target slab.

It is a lonely contemplative life at the top,
There is much danger in my working conditions.
One false move and the load would drop
Causing much death and mayhem, below.