Scott Langston

Authoring Adventures

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Clarity Pyramid


Never gave it a thought
Did what I knew I ought
Stepped up, cried out ‘This is wrong!’

“The right thing, not the easy thing”


I found the form here, on Shadow Poetry


Anti-common sense
Anti-Middle Ages
Anti-this shit

Hungry for the end

The lazy conflation of want and need
Consumerism’s ever-open maw
The thoughtless idolisation of greed
Self-sacrifice on the alter of more
Our bellies full with abligurition
Starvation remains for too many poor
It’s lack of food, lack of nutrition
Failure to meet a basic human need
Hunger for stuff will destroy us indeed

No title required

Quests don’t have to be publicised
Unsung heroes can stay that way
I have no need of applause, vacuous or otherwise
Each challenge risen to is its own reward
Talk to me of gratitude and being

Let go of the banging drum
Out with the needless praise and the hollow ‘like’
Unfriend those vexations to the spirit
Disconnect from the constant noise

Poetry forms

I’m enjoying playing with new poetry forms. This one’s a Florette. The rhyme scheme is a,a,b,a, and the meter is 8,8,8,12. The
fourth line has a requirement of internal (b) rhyme scheme, which I quite like, on syllable 8. The prompt for this one was ‘a disaster poem‘.

The shrill alarm of wakening
Banishes the dream, preventing
A return to enfolding sleep
His limbs obey like mindless sheep, mind-state changing

A bleary face cold-splashed awake
A stretch and a yawn ease the ache
Day begins as ev'ry other
Body pulls itself together, new day, retake

Downstairs, en-robed, all good so far
Kitchen, kettle and breakfast bar
All he needs now is the coffee
He opens the cupboard to see the empty jar

Kwanza Blitz

Kwanza lodge
Kwanza River
River of dreams
River of schemes
Schemes of lust
Schemes of joy
Joy in itself
Joy in being
Being here
Being near
Near to bliss
Near to this
This escape
This repose
Repose required
Repose inspired
Inspired by beauty
Inspired by calm
Calm as day
Calm as night
Night closes in
Night enfolds
Enfolds the spirit
Enfolds the dream
Dream of me
Dream of you
You in harmony
You at peace
Peace and quiet
Peace flows
Flows like a river
Flows through everything
Everything, everywhere
Everything right
Right for here
Right for now
Now, the moment
Now, the place
Place in time
Place in history
History winks
History thinks
Thinks of today
Thinks of a way
Way to make amends
Way to move on
On my own
On the way

a forgiveness poem

I can be gracious and forgive
But don't ask me to forget
Oh, I can live and let live
I can be gracious and forgive
It's almost attractive
This mental pirouette
I can be gracious and forgive
But don't ask me to forget


Neurons firing
Across carriageways
Under construction

Messages half sent
Half conceived

Fantastical plans
Free of consequence
Free of sense

Forging ahead
To freedom

Responsibility looming
'Clean your room' ing
All happening too soon

Errors of judgement
Under the spotlight
Decisions of ego

Seemed like 
Such a good idea
At the time

Practicing adulthood
Without the tools

And understood

Letting go
Still abetted

A journey toward
A revelation


Burn the wick
Just as the flame can burn the hand
That strays incautiously too close
Blistered reminder of impulse

So the hand can snuff the flame, command
Extinguish the light and the heat
Its purpose quashed and incomplete

Gentle shielding will understand
Nurture, direct the naked light
Use its power for doing right

Protect the flame,reprimand
The feisty draught set to blow out
The light offering to end doubt

The thoughts and actions left unplanned
In darkness fester and take on
A life, a needless marathon

Illuminated, become grand
The candle flickers and breathes life
Burning passions put paid to strife



A precious gift winged back graciously with a newfound comrade
Requested, admittedly, but despite that still nicely played
Tiny little thoughtful gestures, building bridges, setting scenes
Providing succour, nourishing, customising host cuisines
What begins as a love/hate relationship makes us braver
This is now a comfort, familiar and homely savour
More heartfelt, problematic and contentious than mere flavour
Let me open your secrets and won’t you come to my aid?
Darker and scarier than multitudinous Halloweens
It’s a matter of taste, I insist, my point to belabour

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