Rush Poetry; Fast To Publish

The Solus Draft.

Here is a time critical approach to poetic composition. The idea of speed writing is not new. As this is not short poetry, the length of a composition is irrelevant. The time taken to the set down the Solus Draft to publishing on the web site is the goal. There must be no revision after publication.  The piece should stand as complete in the stated time frame.

This is my attempt at writing poetry in a time efficient way with recorded information made available on completion of a piece.

The recorded information is:-

  1. Copyrighted date.
  2. Place of composition/writing.
  3. Start time inc time zone.
  4. Completion time inc. time zone.

Should a piece ever be subjected to the riggers of hermeneutic analysis this information will be available to the analysist.



If evolution 
Turns out to be
Only a work in process,
Will Winter always follow the Fall?
Or is it all a matter of perspective?
So where is the Fall in the Deserts?

Clever Chemicals,
Bright Sparks,
Macro or Micro
Steady Timescape or Expansionist?
Singularity or Heaven?
Ghost, God or Chance?

Who is helping with these enquiries?

© 2018 Christopher Thompson  Written in England Rush Poem, (Fast Press) Started 01-08-18 @ 7.04pm Done @ 7.17pm.GMT

Then I Was Cardiac Arrested.

Then I was deceived
When the black veil
The darkness of death
Descended to receive me.
Then I saw not the tunnel
With the hand of welcome
Beckoning, urging,
I was not at the edge of paradise.
Then I did not dream.
The absence was total.
A void to be avoided
Blackness unseen.
A place of no recollection
I had ventured in error.
Too early, perhaps.
Then I was not dead.
Hello God is back.

© 2014-18 Christopher Thompson

All Right Reserved

Cannock England

Love, there is no Bell.

It is an open contest
This life of love,
In which we are all contenders.

We have been in training for this.
Yet in a sense we are all cheated.
Never to be content.

If life is meant to be manoeuvres
In a dark square ring,
Then we are truly contestants of the heart.

We are all vulnerabilities too
We seek to give, yet are
All too often taken.

Love is a circle of truth,
With dark corners
To avoid.

Christopher Thompson.

In Pursuit of Passion (Part 1)

In Pursuit of Passion   (A Fortiori – with Greater Reason)

These will not be easy lines
Not easy thoughts to speak.
For your loveliness will be upon them,
And make them make me weak.

You and I are young
Yet already
You have had a thousand poems,
Written in love for you.
But how many more are to be written
With a heart so full and true,
Before your stone and walled muscle
Will let yourself be you?

So I commit my thoughts to graver things
Communicating you will see,
Confessing a passion to pursuit
Confronting the two, as we.
Counting the days I wished you here
Competing with my son Poemimus,
Condemning me to you.,
Confounding me with further things.

So more poetry will pour forth
More lipless lines,
More to the hated hour
More poetic pasty lies,
More truths than you dare read
More in between the lives,
More despair than weighty thoughts
More than I say to you, again,
Love Me.

If not,
Then let occults cut my veins of life
I wish to see, I wish tonight,
The painful past where I do go,
Would lily-white so you should know,
Beneath this very throne of homes
To print these very sacrificial words
Toward Golgotha,
To burn the feeling very fine,
To love this clarity that’s blind.

Do you not take my point?
Then thrust me to bare.
And kissing my Dread Lips
As you did but once,
Syphon my blackened bones,,
So pickling raw my memory
To keep me safely by.

But will you walk to me
As I to the last place of rest?
No I think not in your girlish ways.
You can not see,
I am neither here nor there.

End of Part 1

© 2018 Christopher Thompson

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Field. (this poem is a re blog for new readers)

If I were a room
I would open my arms
And welcome you in,
Closing the door and my hands
I would keep you safe
Within me.

I would let you rest
Keeping you sheltered.
I would love your dreams
And wishes
I would watch over you.

But alas,
I am a field.

© 2018  Christopher Thompson.


This is a Re Blog to reveal the poem to new readers.

click to donate your support

A Meeting with myself.

I was speaking into
My dictation machine;
I therefore refer you to my
Aphorism expressed in a previous tract.
But this I can not
I will not sugar coat.

When, my encounter began.

Oh. . . Welcome,
Do take a seat.

After brief discussion
I summarised thus.

Due diligence is given
To the state of the heart.
I note you are also
Of sound mind.
Your condition begs the question
Why would you willingly and freely,
Enter in to a situation
Where you risk . . .
You risk your own emotions?
And of your own volition
You stake your love?

My encounter was with my other self.
The irrational self.
The other version,
The real me.

I had taken to loving
And wholeheartedly.
My outlook was fine,
My forecast good.
My view was rosy.
My heart danced
My feet missed their beat.
My glasses were coloured,
My love was for Rosie.

How could I be reasoned with?
There was no point
In taking myself aside.
If not already
I would do it.

Below I call. . . 
Head over heels I fall.

© 2018  Christopher Thompson.

"a meeting with myself"  
by Christopher Thompson

This opens with an interruption. Someone/me is in full flow. 
The interruption could be a visitor. A second person seems to be engaged
with which to discuss a matter of some importance. 
The interruption may not be unexpected. 
Perhaps something has been mulling over in the mind for a while.

We are not party to the discussion.

In summary it seems some kind of examination has taken place, and the 
outcome that physical and mental health is fine.
There is however a doubt expressed about why someone would willingly become
emotionally involved with another person. Logic it seems is being defied.
The uncertainty of a relationship is a cause of bemusement.

It is now revealed that the encounter is really a conflict between the 
rational and the irrational self. 
The irrational self wins out in this case. 
Love conquers all.

The message here is emotional entanglement involves a degree of risk. 
It seems illogical to expose oneself to this. However the emotional self 
is a Powerful Self. 
Unfortunately it also seems to lack any sense of self preservation. 

© 2018  Christopher Thompson

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