Everyday Poetry

Brian Bilston is the master of the Google search poem, where he types in the start of a question and sees what pops up. He's recently posted one for Christmas,  so I've attempted one for New Year. It's quite addictive! New Year is a round the corner New Year is a festival in Japan New Year bri ngs you happiness  New Year is cele brated on the Isle of Man. New Year is a new beginning Why does New Year s tart on Jan 1st? New Year is a lottery Do New Year's res olutions work? Will there be a New Year poem? Will there be a New Year sale? Are there New Year fir eworks on TV? Where can I get New Year nails?  Is New Year always c apitalized? Is New Year a proper noun? Why does New Year make me sad, Why does New Year bring m e down? New year is a public holiday What can I do on N ew Year's Eve? What is New Year's et iquette - How can I get my guests t o leave? Will the New Year bring  a red envelope? Will the New Year ball drop? Will 2024 be a good year? Why does the o

Whenever I'm asked 'which do you prefer?' I usually say 'I don't mind,  whichever is easier' - because I hate to cause extra work for anyone! But of course,  I do have preferences.  Today's poem is thanks to an idea from Elizabeth Boquet, who by the way is a great poet to follow (elizabethboquet.com). I prefer modern fiction to classical  I prefer cats who curl up on your lap I prefer the smell and taste of coffee I prefer it decaffeinated nowadays.   I prefer blues and greens,  turquoise and teal above all other colours I prefer men with blue eyes I prefer white flowers.  I prefer walking through woods, alone  or with the one I love I prefer the journey to the destination I prefer a slightly cloudy sky.   I prefer to Lindt chocolate to Cadbury's I prefer custard creams I prefer mince pies to Christmas pudding I prefer vegetarian to vegan. I prefer to avoid conversations about politics unless I know we all are lefties,  and are unlikely to fall out - I

I'm currently reading Camillieri's book of this title, and it struck me as a perfect description of how we tend to try to fit in to other people's expectations or needs, rarely standing firm in our own convictions if it risks upset.  (Or is that just me?!)  Nothing wrong with acting like that,  but it does risk ridding us of our individuality. It's easier to take on the shape Of people's expectations,  To flow into the space They create for you in their lives.  Far harder to resist that pull, To retain your own boundaries, Your unfluctuating edges, To ask them to flow your way.  ©  Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

Written during a coach journey in India.  In the shop fronts men sit in companionable groups, chatting, cooking, trading, sharing a chai, a newspaper, solving the day's challenges, perhaps discussing last night's cricket. Where are all the women? Invisible, kept safe, busy in their own domain, making this lifestyle possible. ©  Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

In a crowded pub the noise of reunion bounces off the walls, the ceiling, surrounds the men looking for old friends, the conversations starting "I think I know you, what's your name?" Everyone is 30 years older, their faces no longer familiar; their names long forgotten are revealed to a shout of recognition, a fond shaking of hands. The crowd boasts several sticks,   one wheelchair ("he was a big bloke once"), 70 year old Jack the lads preening and strutting, a group of union men in slogan tshirts in earnest conversation. As the night goes on old reintroduced friends form knots sharing memories lubricated  by pints of gold, brown, black and white. A toast, a shout goes up : Miners forever! ©  Copyright 2023. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved