It only took a photograph, or was it a painting

I walked to the beach today 

First, through your rose surrounded door 

No one was watching

My roar was silence itself, so far apart

Down the lane my footsteps went

One footfall; there was no other

If, as all the while, the quiet knew

This is how lovers stall

That was the lover’s view

There, with something & everything 

& nothing; out to follow the West wind

Rescind those thoughtless thoughts

Posted in reply

To your innocent letter

When angst got the better of you

& the better of my idealism

A schism that forced apart

The endless cynicism behind this art

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Risk

How easy to become unsettled

Such that one’s skin twitches

One looks on nervously, as doors

Open, and friendly foes approach

How long it took to choose

That word turned into phrase; then

In the flurry to make a fundamental

Error; a poor call, a bad judgement

In this search for creativity

Is it necessary to exaggerate

The realities of an ordinary

Life; spice it up with mischief

With unrest at hand can one

Write more tightly, of the cuts 

& the bruises; delineate the days

Of decay and disillusionment

That otherwise would have

Left your life quite well alone

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Waveforms

Gradually the impatience leaves; against the grey sky the fir tree moves so slowly, it is as if the distance calms the frequency of vibrations, takes the urgency out of the hot and bothered young man, gives him instead the serendipity of indifference, a future less of plans and ambitions, instead more of memories; of seashores and slate mines, aeroplanes and unexpected torments

The ploughed fields, ever bigger fields, with ever bigger ploughs, have accompanied his life’s progression thus far, but now the industry is falling out of him, the desire to achieve replaced by reflections of love; love past, love present, and what love might hold in the hours and days and weeks and months and years ahead, love of the many years ahead

The chimney stack, the weather vane; with less movement than the fir, are a slowness, a steadiness, a purity of times natural delights

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

H Word

This is a safe place

A place for retreat

A place for dreams &

The excesses of phantasy

The rituals here are pleasant

Warm oils, soft music; poetry

Of the spheres, lovers in evocative 

Gowns and even stronger perfumes

Time moves as slowly as you wish

Hesitates, on occasion & sometimes

Comes to a halt completely, while those

Faltering are able to regain their composure

Fanciful thoughts are warmly welcomed

Soft conversations; slik gents, in felt fedora’s

Aroma’s of cuban cigars, such that the beautiful

Young ladies are equally voluptuously entertained

This is a secret place, for all is hidden mischievously

The joys of such camouflage adorns her every garment

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links

Ample

Shadow of leaded light

On the plastered wall

Sun; outside, slanted from above

Gives warmth of spring tomorrow

The print that you brought home

Leans against a cupboard

Our untidiness talks easily of

Our simplified, uncomplicated love 

Your days of continuity, a

Surety returned, because you care

That I sit in quiet, here

As the rays, and days, come and go

I have a deep desire to simply be

If I think it, if I write it

If I breathe it, if I am it

I will be here, ready for your return

Cut It - Love of Perfumed Grains of Dust

Christopher's Poetry collections can be found on iTunes and on Kindle by clicking the highlighted links