We’ll meet maybe
have a good weekend
we just can’t agree
it’s not about you
your life your fears
it’s mine too you see
Category: Poetry
Archived
He knew her
marked time
shared space
now archived
key words
once loved
not forgot
Landline
A second cup of coffee, manuscript unread
pages turned over, ink and pencil damn his
printed lies, not fiction, no editing can hide.
Landline within a hand’s reach, adjacent to
a still full cup, arms tight beside his frame
too weak to lift, conscience has its weight.
A ring, expected, yet he jolts as if in shock
he says ‘yes’ to silence, her breathing takes
the place of words, still living, how absurd.
Unseen One
I can’t see your smile
I can’t hear you laugh
yet give you all I am
if that’s what you’d like
I could hold my breath
I could bite my tongue
be your unseen one
is that what you want
I’m only human a man
hurt when feel let down
I’m only human crushed
if you’re not human too
Online Observation
He scrolled
top to bottom
she didn’t
mind a bit
She scrolled
bottom up
he’s taken
in her view
In Mind To Be Outside
Every day I wonder what I can write
that you’ve not read in some way before
too many days I end up writing nothing
not of lack of feeling, more through
feelings being a fluid thing with need
of touch, of sight to flow, words unheard
seen unsaid, whispered ears, expressive
eyes, receptive lips, in mind to be outside.
This one smiles…
She’d had sex
mischievous fun
closeness and release
not always that good
things done before
not always wanted
expected to give in
This one smiles
looks into her eyes
knows where to touch
for how long and let go
catches her with silence
asks nothing of her yet
she tells him everything
Things she didn’t see
he doesn’t tell yet shows
her body curved to his
no lead no follow bliss
how did she how did he
as if he knew she knew
they’d get to feel like this
Fingers
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
Cold Storage
Tear drops filtered
heart laden one’s retrieved
pure distillates of love
cryogenically preserved.
Guest Blog Post – Featuring Eric Clarke
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…
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