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My Account > > Personal Information > > Essex68
| Avatar |
All about Essex68 |
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| Joined: |
Sep 01, 2010 |
| Rank: |
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| Awards: |
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| Location: |
Colchester. England. | | Last visit: |
18-Mar-2013 |
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| My Occupation: |
Listening to the sparrows in the eaves. |
| Interests: |
Writing, reading, drawing, painting, listening and talking. Nature and making people smile. and being a gentleman. |
| Real Name: |
Wayne Richard Baker |
| Signature: |
All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling.
Oscar Wilde |
| Biography: |
I can't recall the first poem I wrote, though I have one from primary school that I wrote after a visit to the zoo. I must of been about ten years old. And my teacher loved it. Even then it was a little dark for a child. I's called, Cold gold eyes
If I was a tiger in a cage.
Through my bars at you I’d gaze.
And wonder what it’s like to be a man.
On my back legs, I would stand.
As I watch the birds up above.
The swallows, the swifts, and the doves
and watch them in the sky so blue.
Back through my bars, my eyes are on you.
And whilst I wander up and down.
I’m wearing this grassy carpet down.
Can’t you see I’m bored to hell?
Deep in the jungle I’m spose to dwell.
Bathing in the midday sun.
Here comes the keeper. Oh such fun.
Everyone wants to watch me feed.
on cold dead flesh. no change I see.
I’m a cheap exhibit, for one and all.
Keeping you safe is my steely wall.
I want to be wild, I want to be free.
I think a man eater I would probably be. |
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| Essex68's recent Blog entry. | Hawk Roosting by Ted Hughes ( 695 reads) | Thursday, February 21, 2013 (14:18:24) | | | Ted Hughes has always been an inspiration for my nature poems along with Patrick Kavanagh
Hawk Roosting
I sit in the top of the wood, my eyes closed.
Inaction, no falsifying dream
Between my hooked head and hooked feet:
Or in sleep rehearse perfect kills and eat.
The convenience of the high trees!
The air's buoyancy and the sun's ray
Are of advantage to me;
And the earth's face upward for my inspection.
My feet are locked upon the rough bark.
It took the whole of Creation
To produce my foot, my each feather:
Now I hold Creation in my foot
Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly -
I kill where I please because it is all mine.
There is no sophistry in my body:
My manners are tearing off heads -
The allotment of death.
For the one path of my flight is direct
Through the bones of the living.
No arguments assert my right:
The sun is behind me.
Nothing has changed since I began.
My eye has permitted no change.
I am going to keep things like this.
Ted Hughes : | Last 10 News Submissions: |
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| "My little acre of the moon." | Login/Create an Account | 9 |
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| The comments are owned by the poster. We aren't responsible for their content. |
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Re: currying favour :)
(Score: 1 )
by wylde on Tuesday, January 29, 2013 (09:35:53) |
.
you make my taste buds rose
blushed in petulance
delicacy of a deli
in calcutta
.
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Re: My little acre of the moon.
(Score: 1 )
by kaushimk on Sunday, March 18, 2012 (03:18:38) |
I have added you to my buddy list and I hope you wouldn't mind. I love all your work , they are elegant ,so powerful . Thank you for sharing them with us.
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Re: My little acre of the moon.
(Score: 1 )
by sarahobasketball on Friday, November 05, 2010 (13:52:14) |
I hope you don't mind me adding you to my friends, I just fell in love with your poetry, and cant wait for you to write more.
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