Talk To Me. A poem.
Please, talk to me, even if my foot is lodged constantly in my mouth. Your voice soothes my butterfly heart and lifts me to a higher plane on which I soar. Continue reading Talk To Me. A poem.
Category: Writing
The Flame. A poem.
The flame burns like phosphor, ignited and soaring by degrees: The passion, the anger (and the shame). The flame, super luminal intensity, burns me up, turns me ashen. (For how long will I shine before the all too brief spark burns low and fades? How long before the darkness encroaches again?) The flame wakes me from listlessness, brings me to back to life, again and again. Light me up, turn me on, and never fade away. Continue reading The Flame. A poem.
Acquiesce. A poem.
Acquiesce to the night’s probing fingers, an invitation given without betrayal. Shake and stutter in these jealous hills and vales. Writhe in a cave of dream-inspired torment, until dawn awakes the feeble sleeper and time restarts; a clock has no end. Continue reading Acquiesce. A poem.
Angry Thoughts. A poem.
Would that all these angry thoughts could energise me to action, rather than distraction. These angry thoughts, hiding fears and tears Everlasting. Continue reading Angry Thoughts. A poem.
Bad Reader, Bad!
I’m a bad reader. Not a bad reader, as in slow or illiterate, but bad as in I read 10-12 books at a time and as a result often find myself returning to a book, months after I started it, … Continue reading Bad Reader, Bad!
Avoidance? I think not, my friends, I think not.
Sooooo…today, I had to do paperwork for my long-suffering and very overdue property settlement (like a promised rain storm after years of drought, it shimmers like a mirage in the heat haze…sorry, got distracted. That happens). Seeing as how I’m very focused (Yes, I won the ‘Far Too Focused’ award at work three years running from 2003-5) on getting things done, an over-achiever (I won the ‘Far Too Much of an Over-Achiever’ award at work three years running from 2006-8) and certified obsessive compulsive (no, missed out on that award. Was beaten by Jenny Falucci. Damn you, far too overly … Continue reading Avoidance? I think not, my friends, I think not.
Corridor. A poem.
I wander down life’s corridor. Testing doors: I open, close. But through this hall I walk alone, the only path I’ve ever known. “Save my soul,” I cry tonight. Take my hand, hold me tight, help me find the door that’s right. Kill this pain and bring me back to life. Continue reading Corridor. A poem.
Train Wreck. A poem.
(I lay awake.) I’ve been hit by a train, and my mental innards lay strewn over miles of track. Don’t think of her, because that way lies endless insomniac hours, of wondering how and why she’s run me down again; ploughing into my station, the end of the line. I am a train wreck, crushed and bent, overwrought and steaming. A less than urban tragedy, built on years of trauma and recovery, and a long time need: to be loved and freed from these rails. Continue reading Train Wreck. A poem.
My Time. A poem.
My time Long past? And still, here I am The sun has not yet set Continue reading My Time. A poem.
The Optimist’s Trial. A poem.
There once was an optimist Who tripped, fell Lost his wife Respectability His whole life For some reason lost his optimism as well He picked himself up Dusted himself off Set about finding a new life But it wasn’t easy So much was tied up In his head and heart It wasn’t easy to forget the strife Three years later And the optimist returned In drabs and dribs A piece at a time A patchwork quilt Of emotion and anxiety There once was an optimist Who got up, looked around For a wife Respectability And a life Dim as a … Continue reading The Optimist’s Trial. A poem.
It. A movie review.
Nein spoilers! A mini-series of Stephen King’s horror novel, It, was made in the late ’80’s. At the time it was considered pretty scary, but by today’s standards it’s very tame. My favourite horror movie is The Grudge and I tend to compare it … Continue reading It. A movie review.
Safer Path? A poem.
Stick to the path Safer there? Than thickets and brush Hidden from prying eyes That seek to Rend and blind Seek the safer path that winds on Lingering like dawn’s afterglow The safer path? Continue reading Safer Path? A poem.
Nothing Further. A poem.
I don’t hate you Nothing could be further from the truth Just because I don’t smile when I look at you Or avert my eyes as I catch yours Just because I get tongue-tied when you’re near And I avoid you whenever and wherever I can Or talk to others about you rather than directly to you I don’t hate you Nothing could be further from the truth The prospect of losing you Is my greatest fear And I am the greatest fool Because eventually I will Continue reading Nothing Further. A poem.
(No) Compass. A poem.
I thought I was free of anger But it rages there! inside! Everyday Over every little betrayal Surrounded by tears That lurk just behind the veil Release me from hurt And leave me be For I have lost myself And have no compass to find my … Continue reading (No) Compass. A poem.
Enthroned. A poem (and a dedication).
Enthroned Commissioned at the hearth Creation at both ends Poetry of motions Movements and quotients Seated and relieved The uncanny mind projects And words flow on Moreso than the waterfall Or waste disposal Until the final act is done And the seeds of doubt Are flushed Begone! . You may not have guessed (or maybe you did), but this light-hearted poem is about me writing poems on the loo (oooh, how fourth wall of me). A most productive time that I would be remiss not to write about. It’s dedicated to Victo Dolore, a doctor/writer who has an amazing blog … Continue reading Enthroned. A poem (and a dedication).
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