The 5 minute VIP lounge poem

I'll write everywhere and anywhere and so, as we left Bulgaria, sitting in the VIP lounge waiting for our flight, when I was handed the VIP book, I felt it was time for a little poem...

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More to follow on Bulgaria!

A not-so flamin' June

Well it hasn't been much of a flamin' June, more like one flamin' day of June.. and with less time spent on my new country commute to Reading, it would be great to have some sultry, summer evenings to enjoy, whilst I'm not tearing it up and down to London for five days of the week.

I do love the month of June though, despite the weather this year. Before the longest day, when the nights draw out to 10pm, and there's a sultry hush up and down the street, William Wordsworth's "A Night in June" comes to mind:

The sun has long been set,  
The stars are out by twos and threes,
The little birds are piping yet  
Among the bushes and trees;
There’s a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
And a far-off wind that rushes,
And a sound of water that gushes,
And the cuckoo’s sovereign cry
Fills all the hollow of the sky.  
Who would “go parading”
In London, “and masquerading,"
On such a night of June
With that beautiful soft half-moon,
And all these innocent blisses?
On such a night as this is!

Oh Circle Circle

Following on from last week's post - Poems on the Underground - here's my very own poem about the Underground.

Oh Circle Circle
You're rubbish Circle Circle
You go in a blimin' Circle
What's the problem Circle Circle

You're always delayed
You always let me down
You might be yellow and sunny
But you always make me frown

Your signal failure excuses
just won't wash with me
You've got the newest carriages
But you're rubbish constantly

Oh Circle Circle

If you were a man
Three strikes and you're out
But how else would I get
to the end of my route (say route in the American way so it rhymes)

Leaving me stranded
At Waterloo every night
Does nothing for your brownie points
You're definitely crap, alright!

Oh Circle Circle

You make me miss my connection
By minutes, sometimes only seconds
Sort it out Circle Circle
A new attitude and approach defo beckons

I'm getting madder Circle Circle
You stand me up all the time
How would you like it Circle Circle
If shoddy service became a crime?

Oh Circle Circle

When I smell the grub at Waterloo
My stomach growls with food envy
Knowing that I'm 30 mins further
Away from an eating frenzy

You tear into my evenings
As you rumble from station to station
You make me rush for nothing
You're a poor excuse for a tube creation

Oh Circle Circle

Last night you were...
Supposed to be severely delayed
So I got on good old District
Only to have the nightmare replayed

I guess we'll never get on
I'll never hold you dear
And when I have to recommend
I will totally steer clear

Oh Circle Circle
It could have been beautiful
You started off so promising
Now you're barely dutiful

I'd love to kick you where it hurts
To cheer myself no end
But then I might just break my foot
And you ain't worth it my friend

Written whilst waiting for the Circle Line, as I do every night *sigh*

Poems on the Underground

This caught my eye a couple of weeks back, whilst I was making my way to work on the tube. As you know, I love all sorts of poetry. I remember studying Grace Nichols for GCSE English Lit. and Like A Beacon reminded me why I'm such a fan! It also reminds me that, although I love coming into the City and feeling the buzz, I also enjoy returning to the suburbs to relax and recharge.

Like A Beacon by Grace Nichols

In London
every now and then
I get this craving
for my mother's food
I leave art galleries
in search of plantains
saltfish/sweet potatoes

I need this link

I need this touch
of home
swinging my bag
like a beacon
against the cold

P O

Backward jumble
Random mumble
Cannot quit so...
Fudge it!

Details hidden
Lost in Help
Round and round
Makes me yelp

I only care
No change to spare
Everything equals
In zero sequels

Also fun
Is the dalliance
Makes for such
A lovely ambiance

Our Queen

Teresa Harrison-Best has written a very fitting, light-hearted tribute to Queen Elizabeth II on this very special day, when she becomes the longest-reigning monarch in British history – passing her Great-Great-Grandmother Queen Victoria … Long live our noble Queen!

Our Queen

Tell the Guinness Book of Records
that our Queen has done us proud.
She’s the longest serving monarch
and the cheering will be loud!

She’s usurped dear old Victoria,
that other long-lived queen.
Some monarchs have reached fifty years
that’s few and far between.

In sixty three most golden years
she has witnessed key events,
including twelve Prime Ministers
and as many Presidents.

The Berlin Wall was not in place
when she came on the throne.
No texting or the Internet,
just the humble telephone.

The moon was such a distant place,
no ‘giant leaps’ afoot.
With no annoying Paparazzi
and getting overlooked.

Beatlemania had not arrived,
or the sixty six world cup.
Britain wasn’t swinging yet
but things were looking up!

L s d were coins not drugs
and guinea’s were in use.
Imperial was measurement
when cooking our own goose!

Phenomenal changes she has seen
across the world at large,
God Save The Queen say all of us
long may she stay in charge.


Written by Teresa Harrison-Best

Don't Quit

This is a poem I found in my Aunty's house. The message is so relevant and I like the style. A lot of my poems are similar in set up. Author Unknown.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit -
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a fellow turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don't give up though the pace seems slow -
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man;
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup;
And he learned too late when the night came down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out -
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit, -
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

Poem For My Agents

This is a poem I wrote to all of my agents across the globe, when I left my travel job the first time, to write my book back in September 2009:

I really cannot quite believe
the journey I have lived and breathed
The things I've done, the places I've been
Wow! It seems but just a dream

To soar above Victoria Falls
To visit where the lion roars
Safaris in the dawn and dusk
and the thrill of nature's musk

To camp under the stars at night
and search for tigers at first light
Churches, temples, special places
and the many different faces

Elephants, camels, desert wilderness
Moonscapes, coastlines, beautiful landscape emptiness
Ancient Leptis and Petra standing tall
I was privileged to see it all

Being inside a pyramid for the first time
was a childhood dream of mine
So many memories, so much to tell
I can hardly wait to regale...

I do not know what I would've done
without your friendship and the fun
of being able to experience such things
and enjoy the wonderment that it brings

So these 10 years have been the best
but now it's time for me to rest
to ponder, muse and laugh and write
my ramble, rhyme and such like

It's not goodbye
It's not the end
I'll see you when I see you
my dearest friends

Poneloya's magical moment

Written by moi to capture the moment plankton twinkling electric blue under the starry sky washed up in the tide in Poneloya, Nicaragua. One of the most magical moments...

It’s creeping up to midnight
That magical, enchanting hour
Everything so calming and quiet
Except the surf breaking; feel the power

The sand between our toes
We’re here on the beach in Poneloya
Mother nature is about to propose
It’s time for us to enjoy her

Tonight she’s putting on a show
A twinkling mirror image of light
Beginning many, many years ago
It promises to be exquisite and bright

We’re here to wow and witness
The phenomenon of Bioluminescence
In all the beauty and delicateness
And wonder its very existence

Millions of microscopic plankton
Reacting with oxygen in the sea
I wish I could share with a loved one
This is an incredible moment for me

Each organism jostling for position
A rising wave setting off the reaction
Washing up in the tide on a mission
Awesome in its abstraction

The tiny electric, neon blue sparkle
And the deep, endless starry sky
Are enough to startle
Even the most trained and appreciative eye

Faithful Smile

FAITHFUL SMILE

Reflecting the smiles
and mirroring the jokes
It doesn't take much
to love all that evokes

This contact between strangers
is spontaneous and warm
but it only takes one
for poison to spawn

It catches you out
The churning begins
and your whole demeanor
no longer sings

Time to get tough
Let battle commence
Channel the emotion
and jump over that fence

It can only be painful
for just a while
You must fight for yourself
and fight for your smile.

Building blocks of poetry

I believe if you study something for long enough, it will ultimately help you to improve.

Having the ability to read a poem and to understand what the poet is saying between the lines, as well as the techniques used, is a good starting point for writing great poetry of your own.

So what are the building blocks of studying a poem?

1) Meaning - what is the poet communicating? Why does the poet use certain words and why those words and not others?

2) Look for allusions - why does the poet refer to certain things? What is the true meaning behind it?

3) Dictation and tone - what language is being used? Formal, classical, biblical, slang, popular... What is the tone of voice? Sarcastic, obnoxious, hypocritical, aggressive, grave, comical, enthusiastic, gentle, mocking, angry, optimistic... Try to "hear" the poem by reading it out loud.

4) Who is speaking and what is the situation? How many people are in the poem?

5) Grammar and syntax - if repetition is used, why is it there?

6) Figurative language gives a poem life - similes, metaphors, symbols, images, personifications - but also ask yourself why is it there and what meaning does it add to the poem.

7) Rhythm and rhyme can change the mood and feel of a poem creating abruptness and discord, or calmness through regularity.

Look out for my WordUp Wednesdays.

Poetry anthology creation

This is a poetry collection which is very special to me because each poem highlights a defining moment in my life where the event changed me as a person.

Not only did I want to do the words justice and commemorate the events behind those words, I also wanted to make this anthology a show piece for my website.

Of course, this work is very personal to me so may not appeal to a wide audience and the hardback edition and imagewrap edition featured on Blurb are expensive. Cheaper versions will be available from Amazon and Createspace over the coming weeks, both in eBook format and paperback respectively. 

That being said, I am thrilled with this creation and enjoyed the building process with Blurb. Having held the final product (I ordered the hardback with dust jacket) which now sits proudly on a shelf in my office, I can say it's a high quality work and I can't fault the design or materials used.

You can sell with or without mark up on Blurb and they are now offering the option to sell through Amazon as well. However, Amazon will add 15% to your Blurb price which possibly then makes your book unsaleable. What I shall be doing is, re-create the eBook on Amazon's Kindle and the paperback on Createspace to then be able to lower the price substantially. This is more work, but it was always my intention to sell primarily through Amazon. 

Out Now! The Workings Of My Mind

The Workings Of My Mind by Piara Strainge | Make Your Own Book

Writing poetry

The English poet and literary critic Samuel Taylor Coleridge once described poetry as "the best words in their best order."

I started to take poetry seriously in my teens when I realised I could be rebellious with it - no punctuation... lines running into one another... no capital letters unless you really wanted to... It could be as clear as mud with multi layered meaning and significance, or as fluid as water.

I write poetry after an important event in my life has taken place, or something has moved me so much that I need to express my appreciation and gratitude, my sadness and sorrow, my happiness and elation.

I'm in no way an expert, but for me the precision of poetry is made up of picture creation in the mind and emotion in the heart. If those two things are achieved, you have a good poem. If you can also convey a deep insight into Life through those words, you may just have a great poem.