I wrote you – A tale of lost love and catharsis

Another oldish one. I’m sharing the emotional poems at the moment, but then I guess that’s one of the best things about poetry; making words do pretty and clever things to help us deal with the experience of being human. I hope you enjoy this one. A tale of my favourite way to deal with…

“I, the moon.” …is this a poem?

And then sometimes, once all the pieces have fallen where they may, I am left with a deep set and desperate desire to come home, To that green, green grass. To that place where mountains touch the sky, And legs disappear amidst a sea of iridescent wildflower, Toes in the brown earth, mud by the…

The perilous slumber of day. A poem.

I tend to think poems are a bit pointless except as a form of expression for the writer, often voicing things they otherwise cannot. I don’t say that to degrade their value or beauty, mind, and I am certainly no poet! When I was younger, writing poetry was solely a form of catharsis, vomiting out painful…

Because reality is not quite true…

I have a habit of writing poetry when I am in-between confident creativity and writer’s block. When the words are flowing in a semi-conscious, formless state into pretty pictures on the page. This is one from 2007. Let me know your thoughts! Quite True. J R Manawa. 2007. What bends the trees? Who guides the…

Before my time

Delving into my poetic and darkly misspent youth (oh wait, I’m still there…!) a bit at the moment [inset laughing crying emoji], and I’m really enjoying re-reading and re-living the thoughts of my mind when I wrote these pieces….and maybe a bit of bone??? Yes. Before my time. J R Manawa. If I die before…

The crawling darkness

This is an old one. A poem wrote many dark nights ago (okay, years ago) and just for fun I thought it may like to see the light of day. Notably, it’s a darker take on a line by Wordsworth, inspired in the first line I use.   The crawling darkness. JR Manawa. darkness falling from…

To The Ocean

Originally posted on Abi Writes Stuff:
I went to the ocean. Sounds were too loud crashing in my head. Silence grew louder than anything should. I promise devotion, To the things I never did. ? Taste the salt water choking me twice. I can finally taste life. Knowing I’ve gone deep, Under the surface to…

Poetry before bedtime

I just had a thought. A picture in my mind. I quite liked it. Pretty images painted by the shadows that dance along my wall….. Bodies. J R Manawa. “I leave a trail of bodies behind me, pieces on the cutting room floor. I leave a trail of bodies behind me, it was always that…

The death of my imagination. For those moments when life suffocates.

Creatures of imagination we humans all are. The far away stare, the glazed-over expression, the distance in your eyes when you’ve left earth behind and plunged into the vast worlds of your imagination. I can spot the look a mile away, when someone ceases to see the physical world before them, and allows their eyes…

The dark cause – modern day slavery

I’ve bumped this to the top for a few days in support of the EndItMovement and today (25th February 2016) being shine a light on slavery day…. In life there are a few causes I am really passionate about, and in particular the plight of human trafficking and slavery in our modern day twists my…

Tonight the moon

Tonight the moon is waxing, not waning The sun is rising, not setting I am being born, not dying My existence is at its beginning With Love from this side of darkness, J R Manawa xxxPhotography of Blood moon eclipse by Siggy

For love of night.

Here’s a quick one for you. A love poem. A romance with light versus the seduction of night. Bare your soul… For love of night. J R Manawa. You and I are unique, the sun and the moon. You light up the world while I bring the night. You leave shadows, I birth starlight. I am the…