A follow on poem to 'In the Sunroom (Suicide)"  (1)
writ many years later...
~For MWK~
<>
A stray thought. a burring burrowing, thorny tawny:

A wish, yet to get, but vetted for each of us.

This within, this redoubt, a contemplative oasis,
my indoor poet's nookery rookery sanctuary
each one, each is, deserves, all, one such,
a place holy filled, with lice and dirt of a life,
strained and trained for emission and transmission
of the best of the worst, and the triumphant emergent commission of
our individualized most excellent fresh best

where crumbs of apple crisp pie solidify, vanilla bean ice cream
melt offsets the oven heated warmth, and from this interactive
contrasts combative,
a poem pie reborn, newly disguised, familiar words,
yet unheard and before this very never,
went unspoken and now goes forth
svelte and unbroken

rhymes of yore, forgot from a before, but making up the walls
of the here and now,
a sunroom to spread out the lit lights of egress and entrance,
of fire door no exits that now are chiseled closed,
lock in, lock up, and somehow, one, stills to learn from
the stilling quiet solitude.
to penetrate the prostrate kneeling grinning grief,
how to expel and spell the words
that grant
relief

visit my sunroom, though no fiction.
the sun rays *******, create the friction
of that which cannot ever be withered nor contained,
and your mouth opens wide and a poem birthed and delivered,
a pastiche paste composted of truth and dreams of fiction,
with a shrug, a smile, a satisfaction extracted extraordinary,
you garner moments of satisfaction but the cloud cover returns,
and the process of sunrise exposition recommences,
and one revisits the elemental sequencing of
all the predecessor pain, but this time,

for gain, for gain,
<>

written this sabbath Saturday
12:38am EST
Sat Aug 2
2025
in the sunroom,
on Shelter Island

~
August 2025
HP Poet: Nick Moore
Age: 50+
Country: UK


Question 1: We warmly welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Nick. Please tell us about your background?

Nick Moore: "I was born in Knutsford Cheshire; my parents split up when I was 7, so me and my mother moved to the North of England, this affected me greatly, influencing many poems. I didn't like school very much, finding it too restrictive, going straight into work at 16, into the university of life (a well-used saying at the time) working with adults with a learning disability for many years. I moved to Cornwall 10 years ago, never missing a day on the beach."


Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Nick Moore: "Since 2011. I was in a band for a while, around the age of 20, writing songs, when I felt some of the songs seemed like they could pass as poems. My daughter was born a few years later, she sparked something in me, that just had to be expressed; the first poem I wrote was about her, what a child sees."


Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Nick Moore: "Just about anything: philosophy, science, comedy, music, people, nature; but I have to let the idea grow in my mind, it's there in the background, and when it's ready, it will make itself known."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Nick Moore: "As a child, I was fascinated with the lyrics to songs, certain ones really spoke to me; for example Daniel by Elton John, the emotion in those words really got to me, so poetry was inevitably going to come into my life; so for me, it's a way of expressing thoughts and feelings that are hard to just bring up in a conversation."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Nick Moore: "Mark Bolan, was the first poetry I read, think the book was called Warlock of Love? Jim Morrison, Bob Dylan, Edgar Allan Poe, W.B. Yeats, C.S. Lewis and the many poets on Hello poetry."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Nick Moore: "Growing my own food, reading, surfing (not very good), listening to music, watching films from the silent era to recent ones, and walking my dog."


Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Nick, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!”

Nick Moore: "Thanks again."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Nick better. We most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #31 in September!

~

You.
You came to us, longing to start anew
We let you in, like all wrecks do
But not in too deep:
Not to the point where you'd know about the strangers beneath,
The black sheep.

You got misguided towards the better part, the packs
We weren't surprised
After all, you were trained to do that
It was only a matter of time before they advised you against us,
Before you were baptised.
But wouldn't you have wished to know, we were there:
Clad in calm, I mirrored the snarl -
And you and your beasts saw kin, not prey
Until it was too late.
You spent hours looking for black sheep amongst the herds, a break through
But doesn't black blend beautifully with slate?
We were
                  a
            m
     o
n
g    
s        
t            
you.
And then you saw them:
My people, my family, my friends
And growled, whining for help
Not knowing I'd aid them instead.

But this wasn't enough of a break through (ours, not yours)
We didn't have what we needed
Didn't like the cards we were dealt
So we stayed hidden all this time
My boys, my girls and I
And bid our time till the clock struck midnight
Till we were free from your ties

That's when the lights f l i c k e r e d

Oh, what a silent soul
What a blatant light
What a piteous cause
Turned to dynamite
You thought you saw us?
Well, now you do
At the head of the forest
They said we didn't belong to
Best of all, we shook you
By doing better that what they'd asserted they'd do
And the rest have grown to love us
More than they'd ever loved you.

Seamlessly stringing melodies,
His hands dance over keys of ivory.
Dark eyes glimmer as the world falls away.
Nothing remains but sweet serenade.