Seven shadows of gladness
Imaginations as the cymbal trims
Mad and bad
Turn the vibration on
The concrete skims
High rise flats
And low rent houses
Roundabouts society slims
Why would you care
Until you yourself were there
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
Seven shadows of gladness
Imaginations as the cymbal trims
Mad and bad
Turn the vibration on
The concrete skims
High rise flats
And low rent houses
Roundabouts society slims
Why would you care
Until you yourself were there
Stillness in your rhythm
Your engaged smile shares your past
Provision
Tonight you sing your song to say goodbye
As you will tomorrow, as you did yesterday
As you may as well forever
Stillness is in your eyes
Your blue and purple fingers
They cast your fast precision
Stillness in your skin
Your leather wrinkled baggage
A chorus of the life within
Tonight you sing your song to say goodbye
As you will tomorrow, as you did yesterday
As you may, if, as for Ibrahim, you say forever
All the strains to chains of loss
You remain
The sane refrain, at such a cost
Only ten thousand hours or more
Incredible
To conjure up such a score
Of dark nights, comedies, and tragedies
The poetry, the music
The fall of past civilisations
When all that I had to say
In near or far history
Seven stories; and all of them of love
Semi tone
The sepia bone
Is still at last
The epigraph
Chromatic in mask
Sails for home
Sails for home
Beside the wholesome weather
Held together by clouds
And thunderous winds
The epitaph
Negative to task
Sails for home
Sails for home
Constructs
Everyone makes them
Tear ducts
Dried now and forever always
First
Thump before forsaken
Struggled hugs
Unknowing, awakened
It's what you want, or so you say
But what I want to know
Is how do you know
What you want, just how long is your list
If it's not broken
Then don't fix it
But; what if it is
Broken
Even now you smile
How deep must be your memory
Or in sleep
How easily you forgive