Simon Warwick Beresford known to his/her friends as Cadence, is a (mostly) Horror Poet from the East Midlands of England. With a day job in Care.
Simon's Books available in Paperback & eBook:
What does poetry mean to you?
Poetry is like a lover. She's hard to please and likes to tease. She dances like, no other.
I started writing poetry at the age of 11, when we had to write a poem for School about Harvest Festival and the Teacher chose to read mine out and it received a positive reaction from my class mates. One girl nearly wet herself with laughter and it was s'posed to be a funny poem, so that was a good start. Before that first success, I had read a lot of Dr Seuss as a young child.
So what poetry means to me is, positive attention! I pursued it because as talents go it came to me quite easily. Obviously I've improved somewhat with practice though, as we all do.
What inspires your poetry?
All kinds of stuff: The books I read, the music I listen to, the walks I take... One I just wrote was inspired by a computer game. I mostly write narrative poetry.
Which are most important to you: (1) joy, (2) peace, (3) patience, (4) kindness, (5) self-control, (6) faithfulness, (7) gentleness, (8) love, or (9) goodness? If you can, explain why.
Love. Who can explain a love of love? Probably a Poet but now's not the time.
What sort of things are you looking forward to improving this year?
My housing situation. Early stages but might move, maybe.
What is one big dream you have?
There was this one about Dinosaurs from outer space. No um, I want to be a famous Poet. Like the kind of fame that lasts a few hundred years after your death. Of course in the case of Poets it often starts after death too.
Her train was late But she got on anyway Found a window seat Outside The sky Dark grey Rain against the window Night not far Away
So she turned her attention To the others On the train And rapidly regretted Her disinterest in The rain
The train was two thirds full But had crashed Before she Boarded It's spirit held her now At a hundred miles an hour The ghosts that she sat near Their deaths still unrecorded But Emily could see Injuries To make her Cower
“Anything from the trolley?” A ghostly Attendant asked Emily shocked at the normality Said “Um I think I'll pass”
So she waited for her station Well Any stop would do But the train didn't slow Each town it passed Straight through
Until eventually It passed through Another train And Emily's body Was found By the tracks A stain.
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Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/SimonWarwickBeresford/