I sit at your old desk
I drain the ink from your pens
Trying to think your thoughts
And step where you walked
I shift the date and turn over the past
I fold you among my piles of paper
And hide you in the mess of my scribbled notes
You are here
As my light becomes dark
I intertwine my words and vision into woven light
Monday, July 8, 2013
Giving up the resolution
Sunday, April 7, 2013
My Bird
As soon as you commit yourself to a challenge another comes your way, so writing a poem each day for the month of April was put on hold when my brother was suddenly admitted to hospital....
So I dedicate this one to my brother.....
MY BIRD
caged wings fly inward
fluttering dreams float downward
the heart craves outward
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
fickle moments of love
the constant
the storms
the trouble
your blue of blues
the loop
the dives
the wanted
your done is well
the loom
the worry
the surrender
your tracks are marked
the beneath
the silence
the slaughter
your presence
Poem 2, day 3 ~ When it seems to Grow
for my birthday
you ran your fingers
though my hair
never understanding
why the world
stopped
never understanding
why your laugh
still played in my ear
beckoning
me to dance
desperate, not letting me
go
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
Poetry Month....Luka Lesson sets my challenge
Luka Lesson, reminds me on this early morning when I'm feeling at my least creative, that April is poetry month. He has set the challenge to write a poem every day for this month....I will accept the challenge...
CAUGHT ON THE NAIL
the lump in my throat
holds your gaze
heavy on my face
there are words
you cant move
check Luka out at the below....he is one talented inspiring gem...thanks Luka....
https://mobile.twitter.com/LukaLesson
Friday, March 22, 2013
don't disappoint
im as helpless
and hopeless
as the feather
on the river
that runs through
my childhood
that can't
make it to
the other side
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Platform Three
screaming announcements
of another cancelled train
and I stand in the harsh sun
feeling my thoughts begin to boil
two teenage boys
with pungent body odour eating McDonalds
bounce around an old man who is all arms legs and wrinkly fingers crossed
he watches a cranky baby
with a messy sticky face
wriggling in her pusher
and I close my eyes
feeling my salty tears
flood my being
drowning me in the muck and stench
of this endless summers heat