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Hi I'm a poet who doesn't know it. anyone into poetry or writing?. Please check out my new site, poetrydome.com hope you enjoy my work, ta ra De Da Pete.

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[Seen elsewhere, author not credited]   The outside toilet.   In deep midwinter freezing cold, Walked down the path, feeling bold, Needed to go, just couildn't wait,

Spotted this Pam Ayres ditty in another group and thought it might appeal to those in here what likes poytrie:   The missus bought a Paperback, down Shepton Mallet way, I had a look insi

Ha, ha ! It reminds me of the old tale of the general during WW1, who asked his radio operator to 'Send reinforcements, we're going to advance'. When the message passed through various stages, it fina

Hope you enjoy my work good people. more on poeteydome.com,

Poverty blues.

I got damp on mi walls and cobwebs in mi hall

got a rat in the kitchen

where the roaches crawl

I got holes in mi shoes

where my toes peep through

sure gotta bad case of the poverty blues.

I got cracks in the bathtub

bugs in mi bed

I gotta things in my hair

that make me scratch my head

Gotta pile of bills collectin at mi door

one's I should have paid the year before

I thinks I'll change my name to Bill

Why should that critter get all the money

and all the thrills

I try to fet by

but always looose

got a sure bad case of the poverty blues.

Geetar play boy.

Some folks call mi lazy but I sure ain't

dumb and my shrink says I'm not crazy

I'm a man alone in the world

lookin fer a girlie abd a hound dog

who is a pearl well howdy

someone to cook Gritts

give me some here ankle bitters

and can cook apple pie

hunt like a pole cat and can clean

with plenty of bucks

so we can share our dreams

Someone to getta hitched

and say I do

maybe a sweet girlie like you

so I no longer don't know what to do

Sure gotta here bad case of the poverty blues

I said sure gotta a bad case of the poerty bluesssssssssss.

Get down now.

Peter Dome.copyright.2012. more at, poetrydome.com.

Love to read some of yours gud folk. De Da Pete.

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Day story

As the night succumbs and goes to rest

and the dark velvet sky turns to vibrant blue

The sound of joyful bird song

awakens the sleepy unfolding flowers

kissed by moist droplets of dew

The air still crisp

as the warming sun

smiles down upon the lush green ground

and nature comes alive

in abundant glory

in celebration of the birth of a new day

at the start

of an other day story.

Peter Dome. copyright.2013. July. Poetrydome.com

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:biggrin: Man Ray, one of the Greats within the Art of Photography..........

Sure was but ask most of the general public, and they won't have heard of him. Such people go on game shows, and don't know what day it is, but some how seem to win something thanks to the audience.thank you. De Da Pete.

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hellothere Hi there Pete, I spent some years working in the 'Art and Design' Library at Nottingham Trent Poly (now University) - responsible for Inter Library Loans.

I must have taken a look - when things were slow - through every photography book in the seven bays on the subject that the Library housed. Trent Poly was very well respected throughout the land for its Lecturers and splendid 'Photography' Degree course, so we had the best of books on the subject.

Cartier Bresson and Diane Arbus are amongst my favourite photographers.

PS: Have taken a look at your website and am well impressed - keep up the creative work. :biggrin:

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:biggrin: Hi Chrissie, am very well thanks and yourself?

Great that you're a fan of Arbus, her name should be honoured with Love.

Am also fan of Ansel Adams, Georgia O' Keefe and who was the photographer who snapped loads of Black and White images of New York during the 50's? - riveting stuff - I'll have to Google...........

PS: And also Robert Mapplethorpe, friend of Patti Smith - you can tell I read lots of Photography books during the quiet times in the Library, plus also I'd loan them.

PPS: Still do lots of photography although these days it's with a digital, much prefer the creativity of an SLR or even my little fave Olympus. :biggrin:

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Here is a poem written by my Granddaughter 12yrs old

What's Happening To Our Planet

An urban jungle, in which we live,

Pollution swamps the skies,

Foggy smoke, the chimneys give,

And slowly our atmosphere dies.

Smog engulfs the cities of our land,

Gradually destroying our clean air,

Nature needs a help in hand,

This just isn't fair.

Global warming is getting worse,

Killing off our natural surroundings,

Like it is some kind of curse,

We must take action now, the alarm bells are sounding.

Our landfill sites are overflowing,

With all the waste we make,

Our waste is ever growing!

It's time for us to take control, the future of our world is at stake!

So now you know the reasons,

Can you help me get rid of my pet hate?

If you can, don't be afraid,

Just help me get rid of my bane.

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:biggrin:Weegee was the name of the photographer that I was trying to remember - earlier on in the thread.

It was the pseudonym of photojournalist Arthur Fellig, known for his stark black and white photography: realistic scenes of urban life, crime, injury and death on the streets of New York, circa: 1930's, 40's, 50's.

Weegee later worked in cinema, making his own short films; later he collaborated with film directors such as Jack Donohue and Stanley Kubrick.

An Interesting and Creative character, why not give him 'a look up'. :biggrin:

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DeDaPete and Jackson

Thank you for your comments on the poem written by my Granddaughter, it was a school project, whereby they all had to choose a topic and as you see she has a good imagination. All of the children did really well and my granddaughter is thrilled you are impressed.

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DeDa Pete,

Thankyou So much for your kind offer, My granddaughter is so proud you have offered her this opportunity, she asked me to thank you and say, if you don't mind at this time she would just like us Nottstalgians to enjoy her poem, I would like to put one of my poems forward DeDaPete but i'm afraid my poetry is on the same lines as Paulus on #20 LOL.Thank you for showing interest. :biggrin: Best Wishes.

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hellothere Hi Pete, thank you so much for your kind offer. I'm working on a poem at the moment, I don't know about you but it takes me such a time creating one; I aim to try and create a pulse to the poem - as in the rhythm of music.

I've recently been inspired by the amount of butterflies: Peacocks and Cabbage Whites on my two splendid buddleia bushes. The butterflies have provided me with such a wonderful show whilst I'm taking a tea break from the gardening; I'm going to miss them when the blossoms die.

PS: Happy Creations :biggrin:

PPS: Carni, put your poem on please; it will give you the confidence to create some more.

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​Hi Jackson, yes I know what you mean about writing. I have been inspired by the amount of butterflies too. i have some love long stemmed purple flowers growing in my garden pond, don't know where they came from, but they come back every year. It's full of cabbage buts at the moment.

I'd be happy to post your poem on my site. Don't worry about a thing. if I can help build your confidence so be it. anyone else too. I know you wouldn't but I don't post any poems that do not contain bad language, or adult themes. If anyone is considering.

I wish you look. need any help, always here to assist. take care.De Da. Thank you.

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  • 1 year later...

She's Gone

 

How empty lies the life not whole,

When grief pervades the yearning soul,

Devotion now but memory,

Gone forever, her from he.

 

Dearly 'twined for many years,

Through good times and through the tears,

Where love had no known substitute,

Joy that none shall e'er dispute.

 

Our time on earth is brief in measure,

Find one to love and to treasure,

Adore her 'til the very end,

And then rejoice 'twas thus, my friend.

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This morning I went for my operation

And nervously waited with apprehension

As I sat down in the big black chair

I closed my eyes and said a prayer

Nervously I asked him for an anaesthetic

But he told me not to be so pathetic

With scissor, razor and clippers on head and neck

Soon he made me feel like an utter wreck

And in practically no time at all

Onto the floor my hair did fall

Despite all the trauma and stress

The operation wasn’t free on the NHS

Feeling light headed I struggled up the road

And it took me ages to get to my abode

I sat in my chair and looked through the drapes

Thinking a friend might come with some grapes

But alas she never came and I found that hard

And she never sent me a get well card

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Having nearly dislocated my shoulder trying to pick the flippin' thing up. I wrote this.................................

My Wife's Handbag

What is in my wife's handbag?

What is in there indeed?

What is in my wife's handbag?

Why everything a woman should need

Lipstick, eyeliner, other makeup too.

Twenty rings of keys and a tube of glue.

Five grubby handkerchiefs for blowing her nose,

Some clear nail varnish for painting her toes.

Photos of grandkids, a photo of me,

And photos she would not want you to see.

Letter from the hospital, letters from friends.

A letter she needs reminding to send.

Bank statements, a passbook, a piece of chalk,

Six pens, two pencils, an eraser and a book.

A spare pair of specs in a nice blue case,

With a lens cleaner made of local lace.

A purse with some money, and another without,

A brace of credit cards, out of date no doubt.

Two packs of chewing gum, some polo mints,

Opened last week but hasn't had one since.

A small strip of aspirins for a headache,

An old prescription she forgot to take.

Her mobile phone and some plasters too,

Without all this she wouldn't know what to do.

When she empties it out it covers a large table,

She picks out what she needs before she is able

To carefully pack everything back in again.

It's so darned heavy, You need to lift it with a crane.

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Here's a little ditty I wrote 10 years ago.

A young dark haired girl, tall and slim

Dressed in black and red with fur trim

Every weekday morning in Trinity Square

This attractive young lady was standing there

Handing out to people passing through

A free copy of the Metro

‘Good morning’ or ‘Hello’ she said with a smile

Making my day a little more worthwhile.

However, the other week to my dismay

She had disappeared – Gone away

I was saddened and felt down

Had she left Nottingham town?

Then yesterday to my delight

When off the bus I did alight

A figure I spied in red and black

Could it be that she’d come back?

As I drew nearer to the King’s Walk way

I could see it was her –Hip Hip Hooray!

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#32.

Hey there Jacko, one year ago,

You began a poem, but oh so slow,

You are it seems stuck for words,

So forget butterflies and try the birds.

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Every year in friend’s birthday cards I include lists, poems or brochures. One year I produced a ‘booklet’ called “The Past In Bits For Old Gits” which included the rhyme below. (I also include a poem in the Christmas cards).

Welcome to “The Past In Bits”

Especially compiled “For Old Gits”

As a baby you wore a towelling nappy

You didn’t have much but were happy

Growing up you played in the park without your mum

And if you were naughty you got a smack on the bum

SATs exams, what’s all the fuss

You had to sit the 11 Plus

Classes were much larger than today

You wore a uniform with a cap or beret

Break school rules and you did obtain

Lines, detention, strap or cane

You learnt spelling, grammar and punctuation

Used your brains for a mathematical calculation

But I’ve said enough I’ll say no more

And let you this booklet explore

So you can blow some cobwebs away

And see what you remember from yesterday

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Try some tourist information............................

Hemlock Stone

Take a trip to Stapleford Hill

If you've any time to kill.

To the west of Nottingham

Get there early if youcan.

Find your way down Coventry Lane,

Best to try avoid the rain.

Standing up on the Hillside

Is Hemlock Stone, tall and wide.

This strange and ugly piece of stone

Proud and stark, and all alone.

A unique quirk of nature's way.

Solid rock among the clay.

Legend tells us years ago

When the Devil, feeling low,

At Lenton Priory threw the stone

To kill the monks who lived alone.

But he missed the church by miles,

Despite all his evil guile.

So Hemlock Stone reminds us all

Of the evil Satan's fall.

The the real explanation

Of the Hemlock Stone's creation

Takes us back to the Ice Age

And elements of nature's rage.

The sandstone hill on which it stands

Gave slowly to nature's demands.

Wind and water wore it down

Leaving just the Hemlock Stone.

Barium Sulphate solidified

The sandstone rock, all hard inside.

Defied eroding wind and rain,

Fixed upon the hillside, plain.

People come from all around

To walk upon the sandy ground,

And see, all weathered and wind blown

The sandstone rock called Hemlock Stone.

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