Ian Bowen

Ian Bowen Poems

I want to write a poem about 'nothing'
(not an easy thing to do) .
I want to describe the emptiness
that I've found since I lost you.

Life is now as confusing
as an Irish mermaid.
The dye from these thick, black socks
colours my toes in violet.

Now in my grey-haired heart,
Flows the blood of seasons past.

Those pastoral beats, that once surged

Hold tight now as we glide above the night-gray slates of village rooftops.
Look into the chambers, where in creased pyjama beds,
the sleeping, wrinkle the sheets in unconscious feats of love and derring do.

Is this a poets life-
Is this just fantasy-
Caught in a forum
No escape from profanity

A red ball of a sun
sent golden shafts
through the canopy
of ancient oaks; their

I remember crying in my sleep.
I remember wiping my eyes
on the blanket my Uncle
brought back from the army,

She moved the plate
of cream cakes
away from herself
to the far corner of table.

On the back lawn of a home
for the mentally unstable,
she sits threading daisies...

Charging across the grasslands,
having blown down the houses
made of straw and wood, he nears
the brick one.

From a pretty lace bed,
in the chamber
of a cosy widow, where old ornaments
dusted to death by the feathers of ostrich,

The poem
under the magnetic penguin
on the fridge door
will explain everything

Bathed in tepid water,
powder puffed in clouds of special talc:
this little lady is then pigtailed
with coloured ribbons

A lemon dropp of a moon,
spread light over river and meadow,
and lit a few whisps of clouds
that floated aacross its surface.

Anger, done up its laces
and kicked out with iron boots.

Hate, sat on the fence,

Pride positioned itself
at the front of his chest;
where ribs were pushed out
to twice their normal size.

The richest man in my town,
supplies and fits
the boards
that protects the glass

The pale pink blooms
of busy, spring avenues,
glow in a warm light.
Tables and chairs spill

When a copper eyeballed me
outside ‘Boots’ in Croydon
at 1.00 am, he
was actually doing me a favour,

I remember how my mother
placed her cupped hands
over the mouths
of my sister and I.

The Best Poem Of Ian Bowen

A Poem About Nothing

I want to write a poem about 'nothing'
(not an easy thing to do) .
I want to describe the emptiness
that I've found since I lost you.
The crashing waves of ecstasy
will me missing from my verse.
There will no expletive adjectives
or headless-chicken curse.
The glorification of life's scenery
will be omitted from this page.
I will not mention the 'seven wonders'
or some ancient, historic age.

I will simpy be negative
and just scribble what comes out.
Leave you hopelessly pondering...

what this poem is all about

Ian Bowen Comments

T S 10 April 2009

I am such a fan of your Poems Ian! Humerous, well written and charming... Alway a pleasure to read, best wishes Tracy

3 1 Reply
~ Jon London ~ 28 April 2009

Ian's works have tender, sometimes mind stiring, rib tickling, heart pulling lines packed with flowing imagery that every reader of the finest poetry will enjoy. All the very best Ian Jon london

3 1 Reply
Will Barber 10 April 2007

Ian Bowen's poetry moves through concrete, particular images to the universal. Whether he writes of boyhood or of his mature years, a constant theme emerges - deeply felt experiences, expressed compactly in in vivid, utterly convincing detail. Pathos, humor, and sheer narrative skill distinguish his verses - deeply felt, and eloquently expressed.

2 1 Reply
Lynda Robson 25 January 2008

I am a great fan of Ian's poetry. He has a way of expressing his thoughts, whatever the theme. I would recommend anyone taking a look at Ian's work, I'm sure they won't be disappointed. I echo Will's words.

2 1 Reply
Sivan P.G Menon 13 July 2008

ian.... .. logical flow of expressions.. a distinct poetic' charm traces of humanness... regards... sivan

2 1 Reply
Stella Armour 18 May 2018

No you are not Ian... now behave yourself lol :)

0 1 Reply
Ian Bowen 16 May 2018

I am the greatest poet ever.

2 0 Reply
Mimi Brown 11 September 2009

It is the first thing I do in the morning. I log on Poemhunter and look for the nugget of joy, sorrow, nature, real life. Heart tugging moments, pure elation, a bird's eye view of the world. All seen though Ian's eyes. I think he is the best of us. He is an inspiration and a pretty cool muse! Thank you for all the comments and considerations, Ian. The bright spot in my day.

4 2 Reply
Stephen Stirk 10 September 2009

I'm delighted to comment on Ians work here on Poem Hunter. He is the sort of poet I always single out as having a unique and entertaining perspective. Poems full of imagination and poems unrivalled in their diversity. A true 21st century poet who writes with an imaginative flair, unrivalled honesty, and charming imagery. I much admire your work and talent Ian, and I am in absolute awe of the quantity, consistency and quality of your output. Best Regards Steve

5 1 Reply
Catrina Heart 12 May 2009

A poet having a fantastic imagination.....clever and creative, a wordsmith of time! ! !

3 1 Reply

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