After snow, sleet
After sleet, rain
After rain, sun
After sun, light
After light, life
Life, as in birds in flight
Life, as in birds on branches
Life, as in birds at play
Life, as in birds in the snow
After snow, stillness
After snow, shadows
After snow, leaves
After snow, grass
After snow, life
Life, as in rooftops
Life, as in fences
Life, as in summer houses
Life, as in places to stay
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
Sunday, 25 March 2018
Saturday, 24 March 2018
Continuum
All of our summers are long ago
All of the photographs
Serve as mere guides to nostalgia
The pristine, bright red, sun umbrella
Set against the vibrant blue sky
It is a memory, but only for you
The words say something
Which only words may say
All else being lost, scattered
The four winds
They have risen, they have fallen
Their breath is now of new life
All of our summers are ahead of us
All of the photographs
Have yet to be composed
All of the photographs
Serve as mere guides to nostalgia
The pristine, bright red, sun umbrella
Set against the vibrant blue sky
It is a memory, but only for you
The words say something
Which only words may say
All else being lost, scattered
The four winds
They have risen, they have fallen
Their breath is now of new life
All of our summers are ahead of us
All of the photographs
Have yet to be composed
Friday, 23 March 2018
The Security Of Clothing
She is insecure
He is insecure
We are all insecure
Everybody is insecure
But I am most insecure of all
She wears bright clothes
He dresses as a country gent
We all wear our Sunday best
Everybody struts as a peacock
I try to look the part
He is insecure
We are all insecure
Everybody is insecure
But I am most insecure of all
She wears bright clothes
He dresses as a country gent
We all wear our Sunday best
Everybody struts as a peacock
I try to look the part
Thursday, 22 March 2018
Winter’s Words
Snow falls
On talk of broken branches
Trees, which once stood tall
Are picked at, and picked at
As if to bring on the ravages of winter
Snowflakes swirl
In the bright light
Of the breezy morning
As if a thousand dancers
Prepare for the ballet
Between the footprints
And the lamplight
Are treads of doing
Treads of preparation
Treads of love
All the while
The pick pick picking
Conversation carries on
As if the sores
Are not already sore enough
On talk of broken branches
Trees, which once stood tall
Are picked at, and picked at
As if to bring on the ravages of winter
Snowflakes swirl
In the bright light
Of the breezy morning
As if a thousand dancers
Prepare for the ballet
Between the footprints
And the lamplight
Are treads of doing
Treads of preparation
Treads of love
All the while
The pick pick picking
Conversation carries on
As if the sores
Are not already sore enough
Wednesday, 21 March 2018
Half A Song Or Less
I did not
Woman
I do not
Understand
I wait for the heartbeat
I wait for the band
I wait for the night
The night of the damned
Woman
I do not
Understand
I wait for the heartbeat
I wait for the band
I wait for the night
The night of the damned
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)