Piano keys at five
guitar strings into teens
fingers ever moving
experimental twenties
tangled sheets not his
Fingers deft exploring
liaisons into thirties
pencilled comprehension
noted moments told of
holding hands with you
EDC Writing – Believing Sight Unseen
'odd lines, short poems, bits of prose'
Piano keys at five
guitar strings into teens
fingers ever moving
experimental twenties
tangled sheets not his
Fingers deft exploring
liaisons into thirties
pencilled comprehension
noted moments told of
holding hands with you
She didn’t read well his words
Sam walks Amy to her car. They kiss cheeks, their lips untouched.
She says, “Good to see you.”
He says, “I’ll call you.”
Amy drives away, not looking back.
Sam looks up the road till all sight of her has gone, his hand holds air, he shakes his head.
Tear drops filtered
heart laden one’s retrieved
pure distillates of love
cryogenically preserved.
For a second week, Esther Chilton has kindly had me as a guest on her blog – this poem (quite long for me) sums up where my short poems come from…
I hope you’ve had a good week. It’s now time for my guest post. If you’d like to feature as a guest on my blog, please get in touch. I’m looking for stories and non-fiction pieces of up to 1500 words and poems of up to 40 lines. If you can also send me a photo and a little bit about yourself too, that would be great. Please send them to estherchilton@gmail.com
Last week, my guest writer was Eric Clarke, with his poem England – Isolated Views. To read it, click here. And here’s another one from him for you to enjoy:
A Take On Poetry
By
Eric Clarke
Beaconsfield to Marylebone
Maidenhead to Paddington
Windsor to Waterloo
lines in, and out again
Exeter from all begun
Devon left, half century on
River Thames meandering
fields beside, counties bridged
Buckinghamshire, Berkshire views
English ways, getting there
London, underground…
View original post 82 more words
I find you where you always are
within the only messages I read
your photo next to your words
on top and under me.
In my mind we’re staring ever
smiling eyes sparkling as if stars
a moonbeam passed between
so close yet never seen.
My thanks to my good friend, writer, tutor, editor, Esther Chilton for featuring me as a guest on her blog today. My poem ‘England – Isolated Views’ is a compilation of individual short poems posted March through to July – it’s a strange feeling looking back at words written of the moment in times we’re living through.
It’s Friday and time for my guest post. If you’d like to feature as a guest on my blog, please get in touch. I’m looking for stories and non-fiction pieces of up to 1500 words and poems of up to 40 lines. If you can also send me a photo and a little bit about yourself too, that would be great. Please send them to estherchilton@gmail.com
This week’s guest writer is Eric Clarke. I first met Eric at the London Book Fair a few years ago. We’ve become good friends since then and I’ve watched with interest as his work has deservedly become recognised. Recently, Eric had his first collection of poems, Shorts, published by Potter’s Grove Press. Here’s a little bit more about him:
Eric Daniel Clarke (aka EDC Writing) is an Englishman, raised and schooled in Devon close to its Somerset and Dorset borders…
View original post 281 more words
Heavy head, left side
loaded, fingers up, thumb
cheek-bone posing, what’s
with the grin, new look
index only, hand free, why
not, can’t face the picture
head shot, cut, a single ear
cropped, no hair revealing
not putting out, nor pulling
either, you’re how old, surely
younger, okay give in, a smile
no glasses, yes, a hat a given.
Did he know her
once in a while maybe
we all believe we know someone
we do, we don’t, unlikely.
All about you, I’d like to know
the things that make you smile
the ‘car crash’ that still hurts you
the love you lost, still feel.
All lives have wounds and splinters
not all have you as I do, or me
as you, to heal, to mend, to restore
faith in, in being, giving, feeling.
Open a door to your inner self
without fear of slamming in your
face so perfect, even with a tear
shed knowing not knowing you.