In the back place
A slightly quieter place
Respite from the rain
With leaves strewn
Where bodies swoon
For the love of freedom
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
Wednesday, 24 April 2013
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
The overpowering energy of lost love
Memory so easily painted
Soft lights, warm colours
Time past fleeting
Left behind, as time present
Warmth from within
Monday, 22 April 2013
Beyond the reclamation is love
Past the broken down tractors
Past the randomly discarded farm implements
Over the heather moor, beyond the peat bog
Past the rebuilt black houses
Past the new houses, with abandoned static caravans
Humankind losing its desire for aesthetic beauty
Perhaps this is what a hard life brings
Years of cutting peat or catching fish
Years of toil before this current time
Work in support of the leisured classes
Perhaps the years of hardship
Coupled with regular shrouds of mist and rain
Combine to build an island consciousness
Where survival & shelter comes first
Life’s uncertain base, comes a long way first
This is not then the place for we seekers
Seekers of the peak
The peak of the self realisation pyramid
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Framed
Endless shimmer
Wave after wave of nostalgia
Patterns thought never to be repeated
Still bring a sense of what came before
Here & now for a while
Onto & afterwards, ever so slowly
Photographers flip out their cameras
To look back with satisfied smiles
On the beauty of their fellow travellers
Saturday, 20 April 2013
Scarlet Draughts
On this forearm
Merino wool is teased
Up and over the golden hair
Strands of hair that feel the breeze
There is nowhere else where
I would wish to be
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)