English Tanka – #6


Dark blue skin adrift
Naked ambition to rule
Gangrene takes it’s bite

Never to release its hold
As bit by bit loses ground


© Copyright 22015 Robin McShane


Missing The Moment


I can but live in this buried tomb
Of tomorrow
Drawing circles in the sand

Unaware of the moment
….Unaware of the incoming tide
……..Unaware of life around
…………Until it hits
…………….Washes away my work
………………..Streams away my life
…………….Draws its own circles
…………As it sees them
……..Leaving me outside
….High and dry
Dying with the death of the moment
Waiting for the next breath
Buried in the tomb of tomorrow


© Copyright 2015 Robin McShane
As per this blog’s copyright statement

Poetry Power – NaPoWriMo 2015 – Day 15 (to prompt)

Ah, poem, you fulfill a role,
For each a different need,
Release emotions pent up tight
Or express celestial seed.

Couplet, sonnet, free or rhymed,
Technical, inspired,
Words from mind or heart or soul,
Imagery admired.

Write on, write on, ’tis the only way,
To practise what we preach,
Scribe the Universe and all within,
As for the stars we reach!


The prompt for today: ” to write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self.”

Okay, my poem doesn’t address itself, maybe, as much as poetry as a whole and I can’t say it’s the best I’ve ever written (don’t we all do that?! – see some of this NaPoWriMo earlier ones though, I think much better!).  Ah, well, I tried! 🙂

Thanks for all the prompts and ideas and resources Maureen! Am having fun again this year! 🙂


Copyright 2015 Robin McShane
Rights reserved as per this blog’s copyright statement
Thank you!

The Real You

I wonder if I will ever see the real you
Maybe I have already
Maybe the seeds of hope you threw around
Were/are the real you
Or maybe the real you changes everyday
Every moment
So as you are is as you are, really.

Isn’t that exciting!

He Visited Again Today

weaver to nest zoom 2 - sept 2014


He visited again today,
Fussing over all the bits.
I didn’t mind,
He’s built that way,
Has a need
That everything fits.

Picking up the little strands,
Testing strength,
‘Look! No Hands!’.
One quick flap,
Up he goes,
Always building,
Ever in the throes.

Perfect instinct,
Industrious ways,
Beautiful to watch
Him work his days.

His mate appears,
Springs around,
Pops head inside,
Flies to ground.

Another reject,
He seems confused,
Lifts himself
To start anew.

No questions asked,
No need to explain,
He starts again.


© Copyright Robin McShane

September 9 2014 Continue reading