Because of you I write
Heavens above I know
Warmth of your love
See, I smile, I glow
Words send their own fear
You give me space to show
Frightened again to throw
See, if in doubt I disappear
After another separated night
Both alone, alone as the crow
Say always to keep in touch
With love, one unto two bestow
AVAILABLE FROM KINDLE
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
Monday, 21 September 2015
Sunday, 20 September 2015
Past Present Echoes
All to hear
The ears ring
The wind blows
The pen scrapes the paper
The only connection
Is within
Within these words
Words only of our pasts
Our present futures
Where do they go to
My lovely
All to hear
The ears ring quietens
The wind blows louder
The pen pauses for breath
The only connection
Remains within
Saturday, 19 September 2015
Frozen Out
It is a low-cut Sunday
The newly slung autumn sun
Floods the stubble with its orange light
The fields, once fresh with crop
Are shorn; for the winter, for the plough
As lovers we slept
Under Egyptian cotton sheets
The dreams though, soon to be abridged
Friday, 18 September 2015
Put Upon Another
Thursday lunch
Crayfish & Rocket
Watching the guy who cleans up clean up
I sit with my own frustrations
But soon I begin wondering
What are his rack-able doubts
Does he talk to himself about a past love
Is the swift sidestep
A sign of more flamboyant times
He reminds me of my own poem
The Fedora from Buena Vista
Already I hear the samba & the rhumba
Maybe he was once a galactico
On the sands of Rio de Janeiro
His sensual slipstream movements
Reminiscent...
A feel of the breeze
With the sun on your back
Thursday, 17 September 2015
Timetabled
Geometric shapes
Forged
Language
Pummelled & beaten
Silences
Whispered over the heads of corn
Take me there again
To where the light of time is lifted
Away from the lonely
Where what is maybe mine is gifted
Local
Somehow global
Revolving doors
Revolve
Noises
Shout across the crowded room
Let me escape
For certain as a polygon would
Eventually as only
A once regular theorem could
AVAILABLE FROM KINDLE
Forged
Language
Pummelled & beaten
Silences
Whispered over the heads of corn
Take me there again
To where the light of time is lifted
Away from the lonely
Where what is maybe mine is gifted
Local
Somehow global
Revolving doors
Revolve
Noises
Shout across the crowded room
Let me escape
For certain as a polygon would
Eventually as only
A once regular theorem could
AVAILABLE FROM KINDLE
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