Term began, and autumn rifled with luster,
The trees shirk their leaves with growing bluster.
And she asked why she had to hurt her?
All she'd wanted was her galaxy cluster.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 5:09 PM UTC
For me dawn always comes too late,
Darkness weighs me down like cement.
No light can break through all this black,
By dawn my night is permanent.
Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 7:35 AM UTC
I'm drinking the moments that I've since drunk dry;
In these days when we were and the sun shone.
I'm sipping at the taste of your departed smile: lie?
And I raise this empty glass to our life gone.
I don't want this to be yet another whiny poem.
But two years on, it all seems so thoughtless.
And I am indulging you with my tedious problem,
Because at what point did you become so heartless?
I still exist in that endless summer day, your lover.
Reservoir through the trees, my love resigned.
And all you have left of me is that favourite blue jumper.
And all I have left of you are laughter lines.
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
Unborn promises adorn your adored form.
Unbent backs bend ceaselessly at your toes.
Draped with wishes and kisses and warm.
A crowded duvet of people for your woes.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 6:08 AM UTC
She changes the weather.
A day when parasols turn into umbrellas,
And when umbrellas turn into parasols.
Undulating thoughts on an undulating day,
When the weather syncs with the mood lulls.
Howling wind hurls at the cracks in the house,
Shrieking at the effort to keep standing strong.
Walls bowed, timbers shattered, beaten, out.
The shell remains, a home that doesn't belong.
Lashing rain on the pane of the pain.
Flooding the banks of the river eyes.
Only relenting to an apathetic dawn.
Left marooned on an island of lies.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 7:21 AM UTC
A little book,
Embossed in gilded paisley swirls,
Bound with string,
Casting its shadow on that shelf.
A dark book,
Filled with muttered words,
Jet thoughts,
An inky spectre on that shelf.
The little dark book,
Paisley words and muttered swirls,
Jet bound string,
The inky spectre that shadows myself.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Lying on my bed suffering a case of Sunday afternoon musings.
An apathetic approach to the inevitable week.
A marching fanfare of deadlines and due dates and doodlings.
If beige was a day, tomorrow would be just as bleak.
Falling through the inevitability of time and life and death.
Life is just a diary of appointments to be met.
Dabbling in thoughts and feelings before my following breath,
Moments follow the next whilst the last I forget.
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
Voices filling the time between the hours.
Songs and interludes and news.
A world within a box in the corner.
The world within a box in the corner.
Companion: radio.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
"I'll write to you from the road."
I can't be here right now, stifled,
with the mundanity of our daily load.
I want to live with my hands,
I want to send postcards.
Words of far away lands.
Perhaps if I run out of stamps, or
Places to see I'll return,
And maybe I'll buy some more.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 11:03 AM UTC
Monkey's on my back again,
Sat on its throne.
Lording over it's dominion,
Making itself at home.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 4:25 AM UTC