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Saturday 5 January 2013

Mystified by the Journey

I'm still inclined
To frieze my mind
With her favoured pictures

I'll find the time
With ease designed
As if it was the scriptures

Plain as day 
We stayed away
Called ourselves the victors 

Though with feet of clay
I held back her sway
Now all that's left are the strictures


Friday 4 January 2013

Lush

Heavenly to write of touch
Rushes of times when such stuff
As transference or lapping waves
Met on the sun blessed beach

Faith to care for futures much
Exalted hopes honed good enough
For Neapolitan throws, or slow
Walks off the boardwalk out of reach

Presence then to talk in tongues
Of colours, scents and textures crushed
To feel the velvet worn with razored silk
As the forlorn son of man with lust impeached

Heavenly to write of either in the ether
Flushes of times reminded, hushed voices
That floated free on the Pyrenean breeze
Soft words squeezed hidden by the lovers breach

Thursday 3 January 2013

Aged

We don't have those faces anymore
Those neat mohair double breasted suits
No longer fall so easily

Off ones slender frame
The little black dress
Is passed down the charity shop line

Should there be another do
It would be a more sombre affair
No wild abandon lovers

Who brought their flash of light
To the instantly
Gratified journeys

We won't pace
Outside doorways anymore
Those fretful eyes that cried tears of joy

Now employ another motive
Thighs that made grown men sigh
Are hidden by jeans of denim brut

Should we choose
To regain our youth
It would be with nostalgic flair

As he randomly discovers
One could forge a clash
With dissatisfied attorneys

Wednesday 2 January 2013

Pursue

A cup of tea, a cigarette
Reading of the poetry book
Before anyone else arrived

Fanciful techniques
Used to ward off
Urges of excitement
At her expected appearance

Which came in an intricate
Colourful style; masses of
The desires I had succumbed to

Each delicate day
More poetic comments
From new found
Friends and acquaintances

Each day another notch
Filed off the key-locks
To her entrapment

Tuesday 1 January 2013

Divided & Indivisible

All the while, as if miles meant more than 
Her smile, half apparent no more

Feel into what one feels with, more than 
A rush of blood, whirls that spin no more

In that single file, one folder; more than
A grasp of whatever passes no more

Steal, or stolen, fallen more than
At last to bleed, indeed to seed no more