By Scott Bailey 2017
When will come the time
Fascism is recognised?
When books start burning?
In response to the daily prompt Recognize

#DailyPrompt
When will come the time
Fascism is recognised?
When books start burning?
In response to the daily prompt Recognize

#DailyPrompt
The wind shifts its path
Bring new scents in its wake
Fresh blood lures the wolf
In response to the daily prompt Scent

#DailyPrompt
Made of crystal
So clear
It can hardly be seen
The breadth of seven men
The height of the clouds
The top unseen
Inside
Sparking and crackling
Impossible
Bright and pure
It is filled with
Starfire
For miles around
The land knows no dark
Ever
The question might be asked
Why it was built
Were there anyone around
To ask it
Available as
or hardback
from Amazon
or CreateSpace
Sparrow, sparrow in my way.
Briefly tell your tale today.
Tell me if my love is dead.
Do I waste the tears I shed?
Briefly now I’ll tell my tale.
Pray your courage does not fail.
You do not waste the tears you shed.
Alas I say, your love is dead.
A sharp, cold sword did spill her blood.
She tried to stem an angry flood.
But peace that day she could not win.
So fearful war will begin.
Thank you bird for being true.
Nothing’s left for me to do.
To take up arms and pursue strife.
Slay the spoilers of my life.
I bid you sir, think awhile.
Turn from this dark path so vile.
Listen to my humble song.
Step not where your lover’s gone.
Just a simple bird am I
But far above this land I fly.
And see its beauty spread below.
See ahead, where you might go.
Lay down your sword with forgiving heart.
Do not tear your land apart.
Still your rage and vengeance cease.
Follow rather a path of peace.
Humble bird I hear your song.
But my love is dead and gone.
So I raise my sword today.
And will make those killers pay.
The enemies that broke my heart.
And now have torn the land apart.
Upon their heads is all this blood.
For I must release the flood.
Then sir, I shall shed a tear.
For the future I do not fear.
Yet for now I swiftly go.
To make way for the crow.
Three hundred and sixty-five poems in all shapes and sizes, sprung from dreams and emotion. Published day after day for a year. There are haiku, sonnets, katauta, lanturnes and many other forms – including free form. The moods are as varied as the forms and often reflect my mood on the day. There is sadness and grief, joy and love.
If nothing else – these can provide a small moment in everyone’s stressful lives to stop and contemplate the world in a different way.
Calm my beating heart
Racing for the beauty of
My beloved wife

In response to the daily prompt Calm
#DailyPrompt, #amwriting
This one for my Poetry Collection!
“Great concept to write a poem a day for a year and provides an insight into copying with difficult family circumstances – a recommended read for anyone who has struggled in such situations. Some poems were obviously more personal than others (my favourites were those when the writer cherishes the ‘small moments’ in life such as going to a fireworks display with his wife and son) but he also branches out into more political territory. Look out for the funny poems scattered through-out the book too, one in particular made me laugh out loud! A good read and Scott Bailey shows talent as a poet. Recommended.”
Check out the original here!

I did it! Well, the first of my aims for the end of this year. I made it over 10,000 views this year. Paltry compared to some I know but miles better than any previous year for me.
Just another 90 followers to pick up now 🙂
On top of that a few more sales this week – including a soft back! Maybe the ball is finally picking up some momentum.
For many reasons – roll on 2017!
It is dark but true
Uncomfortable evidence
When we dig deeper

Mist breathes on the moors
Then the new sun arises
Dissipates to green
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #123 Breathe&New
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Death and lust
Entwined in one
Both without
A thought
Both with
Expert care
Sheer red satin
Ripped to shreds
Blood red
Pale skin
Gun metal grey
In cold blue eyes
And a name
That beats hearts
Passion and fear
And steel
And lead
Death and lust
And a name
The name is…..

I am deeply honoured that poem of mine – topical for today – has been featured on the Thanet writers website.
It was originally written for Armistice day – then later a friend and I adapted it as a song and this is the version they have featured.
While we are remembering – we also said goodbye to some more legends today. Robert Vaughn – the Man From Uncle, and also one of my favourite all time singer/songwriters – Leonard Cohen.
This is my favourite – and with apt lyrics for today.
START
My god, my hands are dry
Must remember to buy some moisturiser
←——Insert fear
…
My god, my hands are dry
Must remember to buy some moisturiser
…
My god, my hands are dry
Must remember to buy some moisturiser
…
My god, my hands are dry
Must remember to buy some moisturiser
——–> extract money
…
RETURN TO START

Wherever words roam
Over fantastical lands
The heart rests at home.
Another blue birthday
Like his eyes
Two years as if yesterday
The memories of watching
Blue fading to darkness
Unlike his eyes
My memories will never fade
Watching dressing up
A mini ninja dancing
Whirling all in black
A day in the woods
Jumping in piles of brown leaves
Autumn brings us home
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #116 Home&Leaves
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Tarns tributaries tumble down
heather cloaked hills
red-brown tufts twitching in the wind
Cold water, cold air, eagle riding the high winds
Wolves range over moors
Sheep shiver, shepherds huddle
Fire crackles, broth steams
Tarns tributaries tumble down
heather cloaked hills
I am the hunter
The bringer down of prey
The destroyer
The shadow
The bringer of fear.
I am the master of war
The hoarder of riches
The steel lord
The holder of lightning
I am strength and glory
So why do I still struggle in vain
My life is being spent
Waiting outside shops
Herding kids
Driving
Working for reasons unknown
On maintenance
Not on friends or laughter
Not on relaxation
Not on health
Not on passions
Tick-tock, tick-tock
Life’s precious coin
Being spent
For very little change

From the shallows to the icy deep
Where dolphins dance and starfish sleep
Through swaying kale and shifting sand
Feel the touch of an oily hand
Where lights speed by in total dark
Where rest many a sunken ark
Where through the kale fish do slip
Feel a cold and choking grip
Where bubbles rise and currents surge
Where waters from the heavens merge
Where weight does crush both bones and rock
Feel the iron fingers lock
And here my heart it swells and roars
From roiling dark to shattered shores
And I will rise with fury’s might
And crush the hand that picks this fight
So fear the shark with jaws that rend
And the mighty swell that shall bend
Every fence and dam and wall
And drown the rumble of cliffs that fall
And when the hand has done its deed
You will curse your dirty seed
And then, at last, you will see
How small you are beside the sea
What’s behind the story
What is the reason for that news
Who gets the benefit, the prize
The envelope with the bread
The law successfully passed
The company tracked greased
Somebody’s life made easier
At the cost of somebody else
Wandering the shore
Through new lands everyday
Ancient fishermen
Our voices are simply the shadows
Cast by our dreams and our thought
If the shadows become ineffectual
Then our voices will end up as naught
Yet shadows can give us the outline
Of what is looming above
If we take note of the darkness
We can give those dreams a shove
One thing we must yet remember
To give those shadows a shape
Sunlight is needed behind it
From brightness the dreams will escape.
All my heroes let me down.
All of them.
I tried to be my own hero.
That. Was the worst.

Do not lightly discard them
with tales of the foolish bold.
They sat for weeks, for months, for years
in trenches freezing cold.
Sometimes feet simply mouldered
in the sucking mud.
And now and then they’d rise and run
and spill their loyal blood.
Do not belittle the suffering
of soldiers now long dead.
With nothing but talk and songs and bombs
bursting in their head.
Bound together with chains of love
shattered by leaden death.
They ended as they had begun
with cries upon their breath.
Do not lightly remember them
with only paper flowers.
they faced the fear, the pain, the cold,
for hours and hours and hours.
They ran together and fell alone
upon those foreign fields.
Protecting those they loved
those frightened human shields.
Do not read these words and think
that these things are passed.
Do not think you will not hear
that deep and dreadful blast.
Do not sit in decadence
and take for granted peace.
You owe a debt to those who died
and that debt will never cease.
Glistening silver
A delicate spider web
Fallen tree around
Rivers carve the land
Rocks turn flows: who can resist
The river of stone
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #112 River&Stone

#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Listen to all the anger
Hark at all the fury
Just remember that
You no longer own the jury
Humiliate the whistleblower
Make him out a fool
Wielding propaganda
Like an old blunt tool
Don’t you know we’re cynics now
We can see through all the lies
You will have to do much better
Or suffer the surprise.
The new can’t replace the should have been
The should have been haunts us forever
Though the new will be a healer
And receive all our love just the same.
It’s pointless being angry at fate
But that doesn’t stop the burn
The frisson on top of everyday stress
For the should have been we always yearn.
The new will have it’s own should have been.
So maybe we will understand.
And make a happier will be.
At least that is the plan.
If I stay my path
The world will not mind a bit
So change is a must

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #110 Change&Mind
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Chancing to look up
Seeking hope on my journey
I trip and stumble

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #109-Hope&Up
#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

Benakeri sorful do
Lillytigh shamton benigh
Alluver ecater feru
Selater erater canoo
And that is how I feel

The media lies. We all know that. Sometimes, though, it is very subtle.
Like what it tells us about being a man.
Everything we see gives us the same message. The brash businessman dispensing his wisdom, the cocky chancer charming the ladies, the whisky guzzling spy or DCI. Even the greedy bankers and the corrupt politicians – who we all condemn but are still reaping their rewards.
They all tell us the same thing – to be a man and be a success – be strong, take what you want! No one will give it to you so grab it with both hands.
Far more subtly than that but that’s the message.
I have come to a different conclusion lately. To be a man, properly (and I don’t claim to be this by ay means) you have to learn to give. To give of your strength – and to keep giving when your strength has run out. Give your strength to those you care about.
When you’re in love
Nothing matters
Yes, there are annoyances
Sacrifices
Anger
Even tears
Nothing matters
Savour the moments
Bask in the sunlight of her smile
Be warmed by her touch
And keep on giving
Your strength
By Scott Bailey © 2016
Well a bit anyway – but how’s this for a jump in sales rank!

A jump of 923,067 ranks! Come on! Buy a few more people – just a couple – I might get to number one!
Thank you whoever brought the latest copies – my ego needed it.

Kerching! Kerchang! Pow!
Our economy picks up!
Soul still desolate.

Dancing with my wife,
last week the telegraph came:
Coughs ring round the trench.

A sad shadow falls
Casting gloom over our dreams:
Sparks dispel the dark!

Wherever words roam
Over fantastical lands
The heart rests at home.

Fleeing from killers
The child runs desperately
To fill out a form.

Old light from the past
Is still illumination
Wisdom echoes far
Water traces curves
Of showered, moist skin, fingers
Follow down to play
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #89 Shower&Play

#Ronovan #Writes #Haiku #Challenge
I’m having a breakdown
Pieces of me
falling away
Nail hammered
Into my skull
Nail hammered
Into the lid
Of the final bed
I’m having a breakdown
Come on in
Join in the fun
Let’s fly
The quivering eyes
Give rise to the sight
Slipping away from me
Come on in
Rage,
Rage,
Rage
Nothing but rage
At my age to much
To see
You see
Rage
I’m having a breakdown
Come on in
Rage, rage, rage.
Substance over style
Fresh political approach
Or a dream too far
In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #80
The Nazi
Sat alone in his crowded cell
His ghosts reminded him that they had failed too
“One day. One day….”
Other ghosts waited
A mighty horde
Waiting patiently
For him

There is a small group of people
I do not know them
But they watched my tears
As I watched him die
And they carry that moment
In their hearts
I hope
They find it strengthens them
Like a scar
Or a broken bone
It does not me

Streams
Tears
All water
That wear
And tear
Rocks
And Hearts
Rend apart
Things
We believe
Solid
Time
Itself
Will wind down
Darkness
Return
So bathe
In the light
While we can

By Scott Bailey © 2015
The best-seller lists
Are full of whips and chains and submission
Is it any wonder
We are slaves

By Scott Bailey © 2015
Amorous arousal
Building
Caressed cheeks
Delicious
Enticing
Full
Generous
Hard
Inviting
