Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
Tuesday, 31 July 2012
Snuggle
You can tell me as much
Or as little
You can lead to open questions
Or hope for my enquiry
You can talk all open hours
Or scour my conversation
There is no place reservation
Or reserved; all signs say enter
This community is for caring
This community is for sharing
Yes I could hear you so often
Would that I would soften
Or come along with sympathy
Smile long for the journey
Into fresh winds
Under blue skies
Washed with sun & fallen rain
No stains or left luggage
The snug is open
Just to snuggle
Double up on reason
The season free from struggle
As just metaphysically
Metaphorically begun
A Poem from the collection In such a shabby, crabby way Available for Kindle from Amazon
Monday, 30 July 2012
Two Folds
We've all had insecurity
Found wanting - unsure
Over silly things; lost keys
Forgotten papers, silly things
Over pretty things; fair hair
Swayed hips, pretty things
Over pretty silly things; arguments
Misunderstandings, pretty silly things
We've all tasted insecurity
Unwanted - the dry mouth
Over bigger things; myself
Yourself, ourselves, bigger things
Over barmy things; exasperation
Doubt, despair, bloody barmy things
Over bloody barmy bigger things; love
Love, bloody barmy bigger things called love
We've all shared loves insecurity - silly, really?
Unexplored immunity two up
Two folds
Untold communities
A Poem from the collection In such a shabby, crabby way Available for Kindle from Amazon
Sunday, 29 July 2012
Others Screw
It seems have identified a numbered plot
For why or whatever
How so far away from farmers fields
Or fallen leaves
Or voices, others truth to deceive
Relief unseen
It seems simply for your memory
Or why or whatever
How now today in Freedom Fields
Call on grief
Or choices, others screw to receive
A Poem from the collection In such a shabby, crabby way Available for Kindle from Amazon
Saturday, 28 July 2012
Traps
So in the moment
There in happiness
The wondrous happiness
There so certain in the moment
The certainty that makes me cry
We talked of peak experiences
Of deep explored emotions
Trips of uncertainty
With a sense of surety
Only in the kindness we would find
There may not be the words
Indeed there may be no need for words
Silence, paused in confidence
Held right there
In the hold on happiness
The traps are past memories
Cast dearly with diligence
Today they are insignificant
Imminent danger is so clearly
Fear spent; sent so far away
We stay instead
With words softly read
Across the double bed
Inlaid in lead
With transference
& culpable conversation
A Poem from the collection In such a shabby, crabby way Available for Kindle from Amazon
Friday, 27 July 2012
Fades to nothing, or eternity
My eyes dance about
Dance behind my eyelids
I have just awoke
From a late afternoon
Power nap
Fell asleep to my own voice
Reading the words
Of Mew & Eliot
& Owen & Thomas
Of farmers & soldiers
& intellectuals
And death
Poets
Why do they
Write their poetry
Surely not
That a century later
We would
Dissect their words
In such a shabby
Crabby way
Or for the sake
Of some
Leftist leaning
Lesbian
Learning
Without a tear
Or cheer
In sight or sound
Maybe though
That is it exactly why
Their eternity is
Tirelessly sought
A Poem from the collection In such a shabby, crabby way Available for Kindle from Amazon
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