Our life
A cosmos
On a pinhead
In the Exhibition
Without strife
A fine dust
Particulate
Situation
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
Our life
A cosmos
On a pinhead
In the Exhibition
Without strife
A fine dust
Particulate
Situation
I have been to many places
Alone and alone
I have studied lots of subjects
By myself and by myself
I have listened to millions of songs
With my own company for accompaniment
I sat on buses, trains and aeroplanes
Taking just the one seat, just the one
I watched football in the park
Not joining in, no not joining in
I self-published my books of poetry
For only me to read, only me to read
Now I am studying psychology and counselling
But I have no clients or patience
Is that why
She wore a mini-skirt
Or was it because
She thought
If she looked good
She felt good
And that was
In her mind
Way better
I stood in the market
On a Scandinavian archipelago
Wondering
If to buy a present
Was the the right thing to do
A good way to protect
And project that moment
Fade away (almost)
Immersive
In concept
Also in delivery
Persuasive
Close-up
Also far away
Declare this
In sunlight
And beneath the stars