The Bench Poets have had a
successful first season promoting ‘Happy to Natter’ benches across Kirklees.
Benches are used every day by
thousands of people to have lunch, read, or just pass the time. Often, people
sit in silence or by themselves, but a bench is more than just a place to sit.
It is a powerful tool to bring people together, even if it is just for a
moment. This is the principle behind the ‘Happy to Natter’ benches initiative
from Kirklees Community Plus.
Continue reading “Bench Poets Natter to Successful First Season”
Sad, empty eyes told the story,
Continue reading “Raise The Bar”
Of a heart so very lost,
Who had searched the land for answers at every given cost.
Never finding a connection,
Always hatred & rejection.
Is Greatness for all?
Continue reading “Who Begets Greatness?”
Is it for the rich or the poor
is it for the small or the big?
or not at all?
You don’t need to drink from puddles to thirst for fresh, clean water,
Continue reading “A Game Of Two Halves”
You don’t have to suffer homelessness to value bricks and mortar.
You must experience bondage to free yourself from slavery,
You must learn to hate addiction to truly love sobriety.
Gazing, into this small window of time,
I see stories unfold on crisp pages,
I see beauty in this window of mine,
Butterflies escaping cocoon cages,
Bright eyed wings uncurl all in a flutter,
on the branch of the tree with the green leaf
Browning, drifting, crinkling, joining clutter.
Dear window, in mind’s eye, such a brief
journey, to glimpse a faraway place
I know not when I shall see once again,
or feel the cold pinch, the hot slither lace
down to the fingers, wrapped around a pen;
In need I am of the window I see,
That gathers dust and is locked with a key.
The soldier stood there as sad as a gloomy day
He didn’t know what to do at all, or what to say
He closed his eyes and wished to be home
Instead he was wishing all on his own.
As guilt flowed through his head for killing others
He tried protecting all his brothers.
Every head of the soldiers was burning hot
All of them were scared of being shot.
The sun reaches through clouds scattered across the vast Southern African sky, as though announcing the arrival of angels, nourishing my starving, sleeping soul. strands of white heat touch cold orange sand and a lizard pauses to absorb the dying day. The Continue reading “Home”