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Wednesday, 3 July 2019

Discards Whatever I Throw

The boiler is travelling from Italy
Possibly cheaper by a thousand pound
The world is now the marketplace
I'm no longer on solid ground

I've found all manner of failings
As I've carried on looking around
I've lent against Georgian railings
Listening out for Gregorian sound

I've glimpsed you in the morning
I've glimpsed you in the night
You came clear without warning
How is that even half-way right

That you should hold such a place
Arrive just whenever you might
Bring the memory of your face
With the thought to fly my kite

The light is clearer now
The fears have been exposed
It's a bit of a sham and how
I thought the issue could be closed

I don't suppose I could call it poetry
It most certainly isn't prose
But it is a heartfelt piece of treasure
For someone who nobody I know knows

For somebody who if I wanted to be cruel
I could say she discards whatever I throw
A once wonderful woman who I can’t even dual
A past treasure who to no one can I show


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Tuesday, 2 July 2019

They Never Did Accrue

I'm on my way now
I'm out into the fast lane
I will find my way somehow
I realise life is simply a game
It's a shame we did not tend it better
But surely it came as no surprise

I think I said so in my letter
That you had brought on my demise
But your absent words confirm
That this once young go-getter
Will carry on down the slide
Whatever he may eventually decide

I am running late
I won't make it on time
But this isn't our date
We have committed no crime
That was in the past
A place it seems we hardly knew

Our nets we did kind of cast
But they were not strong
They never did accrue


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Monday, 1 July 2019

No Sapphires Or Swirls

Two miles to the airport
Ten miles to the sea
Six more months to court
These final thoughts
Final thoughts of you, by me

Smoke from the chimney
Dust on the aeroplanes
Counting up the losses
But altogether forgetting
Altogether forgetting the gains

Once more to be the pilgrim
Once more to be down on my knees
I have lost that level of humour
Where with you I was able to tease
With you I was totally able to tease

I have lost the lightness, the forgiveness
I am lost with some kind of disease
It's about being unsteady
Not being ready for what comes my way
Not at all ready for what comes my way

It's about the bed we shared
The night times when we cared
The love which won't go away
The lust which claims the day
The lust which always claims the day

Memories undoubtedly
Neither clear nor true
We didn't make it to the big time
I don't know if others do
I don't know if many others do

Instead we fell off the fine line
We slipped all the way through
What is left are the hollows
There are no sapphires, no swirls
Absolutely no sapphires or swirls

What's left then to follow
Are those unsent letters
Scribed in secret to be posted
To a once pretty young girl
Scented for a once pretty young girl



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Sunday, 30 June 2019

The Bends Are Smooth

The A-Road is straight
The tarmacadam is true
I feel ok to say these words
Holding on to some ideal of you

The bends are smooth
The morning sky is a perfect blue
I feel ok with these words
These words especially for you

The yews are spreading
In the old churchyard
I turned over the bedding
Not to be caught off guard

The rapeseed is growing
Each day more so by the yard
The North winds are blowing
Once more I've shown my cards

I declared my hand
Without saying a single thing
I wasn't making a stand
Nor even trying to be King

It was a cry from the soul
All torment finally accrued
It was a cry that after all
Was all I was left able to do

Yet I didn't leave spaces
For you to wander through
No I tied up the tired laces
Tinged with Yves-Klein-Blue

But I did leave out
Whatever it was I was not to do
Also I did not work out
What to leave behind for you



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Saturday, 29 June 2019

Though Some Stayed Away

Like many before him, also many more after
He came to the area of low-cost housing
He came for the pace of low-cost life
Yet at what cost to him
At what cost
That his mind no longer rhymed

He took centre stage a star in their midst
They'd had no glory until their life he kissed
He kissed with his singing
He kissed with his songs
He might that have missed the climbing
He might have missed the throng

His words were of sadness
His words were of joy
His words showed off his madness
Of missing the last decoy
His friends and family visited
Though some stayed away

I don't expect that either you
Or he would be riveted
By this choice of words
That I instantly replay
But we all end up somewhere
And we all have to cry

For that place where we choose
To try to find our pot of gold
To go cold on the passion-filled
Passionate doubts of the past
To watch the waves again roll
Even to think that they won't last


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