It was certainly a new experience for me when I first started writing Poetry. I remember my father Fred Kitchen had written numerous poems, so maybe it’s in my genes. I certainly was not a person who appreciated poetry at all, to be honest. However, I do take a lot of pleasure from listening to and reading the lyrics of songs. I will never be a Wordsworth or a Taupin but none of us should be afraid of just being ourselves and doing things our own way. I think this love of lyrics has influenced my preference for rhyme.
Although I didn’t actually start writing poetry until well into middle age, it has certainly given me a fulfilment I would never have thought possible. My inspiration comes from a variety of directions but it would be wrong of me to offer too much explanation. I believe people read a poem or listen to the words of a song and relate to it in their own way.
My poems had not been read outside of my own family and I thought they might not be good enough to be honest, for me to go public with them. But I took the plunge and decided to go public via the internet. My wife had shown me an advert in a local paper for submissions to an online poetry magazine. It resulted in two of my poems being published and me receiving some confidence boosting encouragement. Making me realize my poems might actually be worth reading. So I started using poetry websites and at last I’m being read and accepted as a poet. At the same time I’m now enjoying poetry written by other like minded people.
Tim
Little girl, trying to sleep in your bed
don’t listen to the sound of the bombs nearby
just close your eyes and try not to cry
and let your brother sing you a lullaby.
...
Faith.
My faith was never a beacon of light
more of a flickering candle at night.
...
The poet still writes, the singer still sings
of love, romance and passionate things.
Yet intimate strangers you are today
standing close but seeming far away.
...
An old man sits on a churchyard bench
with his memories of times long ago.
When he was the Vicar of the church
and the people he’d come to know.
...
Is my Mother with the angels
in her heavenly seat.
And does she watch over me
with angels at her feet.
...