Category Poems
and I want to live.
I want a break
and I want a fix.
I want to feel
and I want to numb.
I want to hide
and I want to run.
It’s moving day
All my possessions in boxes
Memories due for collection, when that big lorry finally comes
I’ve left behind the carpet and the wallpaper and stuff like that
And I’ll be sure to leave next doors cat
She used to love to wander in at breakfast, at the smell of bacon
I’ve taken down the posters of 1 Direction
1 Bloody Dimension if you ask me
But little Jessica swears by ’em, and as long as she’s happy
Oh and I’ve left you a little something in the fridge
Another year’s at end,
The passing of the leaves all mark
The absence of a friend.
The sky is crisp and clear and blue,
His breath is on the air,
He silently walks through the street
With sunlight in his hair.
His eyes are cast down at his feet,
He hurries to get home,
Afraid to stop beside the park
With the blackened dome.
His name is Bisan but they call him Dan
All alone in this world
His house for freedom he sold
But the key in his hand he still holds
Scarlet life joining frosted earth
A Valkyrie’s cry, a kiss fading in winter’s tide
Her touch, death’s caress?
Or life’s yearnful embrace?
She departed in a flurry of wings, took flight.
My tears fall silently,
Enough to drown in added together,
Sorrow piled up by the roadside outside my house,
As it can’t contain the amount sent,
I use all my strength,
Batten the doors,
Try to keep out,
Howling black phantoms,
Worries and doubt,
I’ll sing thee mandolin’s melody
sweetest songs of love, each note to behold
chasing gray clouds away, too far to see
kiss thy lips warm, when winter’s breath breathes cold
O’ hear my love song enchanting this day
with poetry’s whispered words to thy ear
of summer’s breeze and lavender’s bouquet
sunshine and laughter our hearts may endear
I’ll play thee a sonnet meant for just you
mandolin’s melody with love so true
(c) Copyright
Dangerously so.
With yesterday’s eyes
and tomorrow’s heart.
Anxious to end the end,
though it’s just the start.
As a child I saw faith
in fragments of color
First Communion white
blood red martyr Sundays
the altar draped in purple
