Christian Poetry and Spoken Word Media for Churches and Faith

Darkest Secrets

28.04.2018 Filed in: Poetry |Christian |Video |Spoken Word |Seeker Written by: W Grieve

What is yours?

The years have rolled
memories ripples
over sunken depths
and sparkling wavelets,
buried deep,
the faultline still exists
a fragment memory,
skipping, slipping through mind
when words, phrases
crack open space
pouring into the past,
Clambering spiders
make homes in the rocks
Spin their web
to cover the entrance
into thoughts
dimming them to
encrusted abyss,
covered, buried,
hardened, concealed, flooded

Yet
deep to deep
history to now
wounded whispers
creep from your soul shadows,
twisting your perspectives
feeding your anger, fear,
reactions as you pour
three pain curses
on others,
Making you
feel better, in control
as you try to dam
and dump toxic waste
polluting the waters.

Hidden and obvious.
Death nature.

Poem Tags
#anger, #christian, #darkness, #death, #fear, #history, #memories, #minds, #pain, #poems, #poetry, #secrets, #seeker, #sin, #spokenword
Prompt
How secret are our darkest secrets? In what way do they keep bubbling to the surface?

Can you handle your darkest secrets Spoken Word Poetry

Tags: secrets, dark, love, pain, memories

Where I'm From

24.02.2018 Filed in: Poetry |Christian |Video |Spoken Word |Seeker Written by: W Grieve

Days happy playing lone
Climbing the umbrella weeping elm
spreading over front lawn,
my ship at sea,
clambering the mast
hiding behind leaf sails,
weighing chances of breaking leg
jumping from high to ground,
Our house behind
white roughcast
home perched
on Dunedin hills.

Pine trees march
rough barked
up the long dirt drive
of the neighbour’s
mystery mansion,
hectares of
native forest exploration
tracks over fallen trees
through gullies, streams, cockabillies
and fresh-water pale lobsters,
Dad’s spade in hand
digging ferns
to transplant,
creating my dream
new forest bush
in our front garden,
sneaking sweet apples from
orchard trees gone wild
growing gamely near
the stone block mansion,
an edge of danger-
I heard once
an apple thief got hit
with a shotgun blast-
salt pellets stinging his butt,
I tell the story many times
and I cross the boundary
again for my sweet thrill treat,
On hills behind our fence
plump blackberries hanging
from tangled thorn vines,
toy bucket in hand
pick one, eat one.
lips-fingers stained purple.

Our first family
New car smell
Cortina plastic seats
Our 20 miles Ford
parked next
to chicken coup
in freshly cleaned garage.

Dad’s garden -
me blister digging across
the hill quarter acre section,
carrot soldiers
potato mounded rows,
peas and beans
exposing pod life on
on stakes of string twine,
witches copper hat brewing
sea kelp secret recipe
to fertiliser coax the big ones,
his proud saving money world
my moaning not again world.

Dark cold balcony
facing night swathed
Kaikorai valley,
lights in windows
across the void-
are others watching like me?
wrapped in blanket
snug to cold winter fingers
of starry night,
fireworks cascading across
house lights, dim grey sky,
hours gazing.

Our cellar
Dad’s world
of "one day
it will be useful",
exploring to find a treasure
moving the tired memories
to discover nothing,
but still dreaming-
one day I will be rich.

The same cellar where
the two brothers
dug into clay banks
cutting back into
the hill under the house
hand trowel scraping
yellowy clay into
slatted apple boxes
on long rope pull strings,
following a row
of rotten wood piles,
replacing these with
sturdier concrete supports
wedged under floor joists
as we hollow further into dark.
Dad too well built to fit so
weeks of tunnel boy labour
chid underground engineers,
filling-pulling, filling-pulling.

Grandparents house perched
on a steep North-East Valley street,
if you tripped and rolled
would you ever stop tumbling…
Tonka cars and Mecanno metal
my created worlds on their
rose patterned carpet
‘brmmm’ sounds
as I push loved cars
towards the refuelling station of
Grandma’s kitchen and
freshly baked peanut brownies.

My city of replaced memories
rubber wheeled
electric trolley buses,
roads spiralling out from Octagon
who cares if it means
going straight steep up the hill -
the shape was important
on the map,
cold sea harbours
and trevally fishing
hill walks and two storey
grand wooden houses,
St Kilda salt water pool
pounded by encroaching
sea wave explosions.

Dunedin -
centered on Robert Burns
seagull stained statue,
some Scottish in my heart
the child place in my dreams.

Prompt
A poem exploring where you are from, your history and younger child memories.

Inspired by Extreme Poetry resource (131+ pages of poetry tips and ideas). Click to view and gain access to great poetry forms, lessons and activities.

Memory Fragments

02.04.2016 Filed in: Poetry |Seeker |Pupils |Spoken Word |Video Written by: W Grieve

Remembered instants
heartbeats of significance,
recognition and recall
memories shared,
thoughts painted in our relationship
capturing the moments:
we laughed together,
paused together,
dreamed together,
looked at life together
through time's eye.

These memories
make us
fully human,
alive to the best and worst
of who we are.

Even as we remember
do the memories change?
Elusive wisps of clouds
morphing into different colours
and shapes,
changing our thoughts
feelings of treasured minutes
or painful pasts.

Credits:
Image from:
Pixabay.com
Poetry Type
Found Poem (small ideas from text print)

Ideas from:
http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/tag/memories
http://www.human-memory.net/
http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/how-our-brains-make-memories-14466850/?no-ist

WALT:
To create a poem that captures what memories mean to people so your readers feel your emotion and thinking.

Writing with Pupils Success Criteria:
The words we pick fit together
The ideas work together line by line
To use punctuation to enhance the meaning and help the reader.
I have added my own thoughts to put in my voice.
To credit the sources that I used.

Inspired by Extreme Poetry resource (131+ pages of poetry tips and ideas). Click to view and gain access to great poetry forms, lessons and activities.

So Often

16.02.2014 Filed in: Poetry |Christian |Video |Spoken Word Written by: W Grieve

So often
We see the past,
Nostalgic dreams,
Rose's thorns,
Tint memories' eyes
Colluding, enveloping thoughts,
Until timelines change
And living yesterday captures
Today.

Fake experiences
Strangle tomorrow's hope,
Patterned life abnormal normal,
Arteries clogged- hardened.

Changes?
Something new?
Challenged?

Starting Thoughts: Do our memories of the past enrich our present and future or slowly strangle them? How do we cope with the problems, sins and fears that keep dragging us back?
Poem Topic Tags: #change, #experiences, #future, #life, #memories, #nostalgia, #past, #seeker,
Posting Tags: #artist, #christian, #creativewriting, #instawrite, #poems, #poetry, #poetsofinstagram, #poetryisnotdead, #poetrycommunity, #poetryinmotion, #spilledink, #spokenword, #typewriter, #videos, #wordsmith, #writing, #writinglife, #writerscommunity, #writerscorner, #writersofinstagram,

How do our memories and experiences of the past influence our present and future. Poem - Spoken word

Tags: memories, past, forgiveness, sin, change

Bush Fringe

02.04.2013 Filed in: Poetry |Seeker |Pupils |Spoken Word |Video Written by: W Grieve

Written 2013. Living Springs Camping site. Christchurch. Love our bush close to cities. High Resolution Version

Inspired by Extreme Poetry resource (131+ pages of poetry tips and ideas). Click to view and gain access to great poetry forms, lessons and activities.

Tags: bush, pupils, memory, life, memories

Remember

18.03.2010 Filed in: Poetry |Christian |Video |Spoken Word |Seeker Written by: W Grieve

Wisp thoughts
Scattered in casual
Sympathy
Wandering
Scenes of memories,
Synapses of impulse
tar pits of the forgotten
connections and disconnections
twitch in time,
electrical energy
brain nerves
nervously
fuzz out
and away,
supplanted by fears
and blankness.

When will the moment manifest
where the forgotten
consumes the remembered?
Shells with
spirit whispers.

Starting Thoughts: I have watched Alzheimer’s eat at the life of people I know. They become living shells with seemingly ever decreasing random connections to who they were.
Poem Topic Tags: #alzheimers, #brain, #death, #disease, #family, #life, #living, #loss, #memories, #memory, #quality, #seeker, #thoughts
Posting Tags: #artist, #christian, #creativewriting, #instawrite, #poems, #poetry, #poetsofinstagram, #poetryisnotdead, #poetrycommunity, #poetryinmotion, #spilledink, #spokenword, #typewriter, #videos, #wordsmith, #writing, #writinglife, #writerscommunity, #writerscorner, #writersofinstagram,

Spoken Word Poetry on the memories loss to Alzheimer’s

Matrix Moments

Media Moments: Question, reflect, connect

Privacy Settings

Darkest Secrets

Where I'm From

Memory Fragments

So Often

Bush Fringe

Remember