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Garry Nov 2017
Early spring morning
blue skies and flowers in bloom
Birdsong breaks the day
Garry Nov 2017
I know you are out there
howling in the darkness,
Moonlight glinting in your
eyes of blackest opal,
With the sweet scent of
blood in your nostrils,
you wait like Anubis,
Guardian of the Scales,
to determine whether
my soul is heavier
than an ostrich feather
Garry Oct 2018
Sometimes I can't tell
if the things I write
are poems or just sentences
with somewhat
arbitrary line
breaks
Garry Nov 2017
As I stand barefoot on the grass I begin to feel it; coming in the air tonight. Have I been waiting for this moment all my life? Probably. Rooted to the spot now, I feel the white light of ancient wisdom. It seeps into my feet and they begin to grow into the ground.  Deeper and deeper they grow, splitting and separating into earthy tendrils that each in turn do the same. Slowly, the light rises inside of me like early-spring sap, up past my thighs and into my abdomen, filling every last blood vessel and suddenly I’m blooming from the inside. The light reaches my shoulders and pours into my arms causing them to outstretch and extend. My fingers grow and twist and contort and split and keep on growing.  Green buds of chlorophyll appear before blossoming into veiny leaves of intricate beauty.  I tilt my head back and wait; I feel my skin harden and thicken and crack as my body completes its earthly transformation. My clothes fall off in tatters, like Dr David Banner, as every part of me grows and fills with the wisdom of ages: the lies and outrages. Time passes and I watch from my now forever-fixed position. Full of wisdom and knowledge and power but unable to express it beyond whispering sweet-everythings to the sky and anyone who isn't listening.
Not sure if this is poetry or some other form of narrative - it's basically a description of a dream I had some time ago.
Garry Nov 2017
I'm not afraid of “the dark”,
After all, it isn't anything but
the space between photons,
I'm much more scared of the light
With its heat and momentum
and relentless, expectant gaze
Garry Apr 2018
Sometimes I imagine you
cold in the ground
Dead
Not because I hate you
and want you to be
Dead
But because I love you
and don't want you to be
Dead
And it makes me appreciate  
that you are alive and not
Dead
And this mono-no-aware
will be with me until I am
Dead
Garry Nov 2017
From the cold, dank room; musty smells emanate,
The cold eye freezes and turns over in the frost,
Catch a star, falling far, falling free,
Shining for everyone; not just me
Trying to make sense of this entropy disorder,
Wet cat nose leather finds protection
from drying up in the hot weather,
A life? Maybe. Omniscient? No.
Turn away and find the inspiration
amongst the perspiration –
insurance against the inevitable alienation
Celebrate with the nation. All of them?  
Two colours, eye-gas, brain-grass, not in that shirt, Scott!
The crepuscular gloaming gives way,
Orange light now dominates the night,
keeping away the hurt and fright.
Drifting now, lost but not lonely. If only.
Size up the coffin and make marks
on the wall to measure how tall
Tear it down, sweep up the pieces and throw them away.
All will be revealed, my friend.
Perhaps.
One day.
Garry Feb 2018
Sparkle in your eye
As you walk by
I smell your scent
And feel your intent
Honey on my tongue
Genetics in my gun
Loaded and locked
Never half-cocked
Flesh full of blood
Mind full of mud
Harder and stronger
Slower and longer
Lie back, open wide
Guide me inside
Just one night
Hold on tight
Coming undone
Together as one
Garry Jul 2021
I feel it
I always feel you
Broken hearts are making it rain
but our souls will touch again
Sooner or later
In the void
I love you
My partner and love of my life, Helen, died suddenly and unexpectedly last year at the age of 43. This is the first thing I've attempted to write since.
Garry Nov 2017
The heart is not a bucket.
That is to say it does not have
a maximum capacity.
You cannot over fill it.
By that definition then
we each have it within us
to have compassion
for anyone or anything
that may need some.
So open up,
Love is waiting
Garry Nov 2017
Pale blue dot in an endless void,
This rock has turned again and
     the skies are swapping places
     once more,
Regrets of things done or not done
      drag behind on the ground
      like a chain,
whilst hope for the new day
      flies ahead and above like a kite,
A day closer to death or
      a day well spent?
Either way, tomorrow it begins anew;
So turn, turn and turn again,
Pale blue dot in an endless void
Garry Nov 2017
Rainbows crashing into my house,
Busting through the windows
and smashing up the place,
Like great big
colourful things,
You used to be all white you did -
What happened?
Garry Apr 2020
The spring sun returned
and warmed almost empty streets
Viruses are *****
Garry Nov 2018
Don't go losing your mind
to a devious mouth
and a full moon,
It's usually a lie
to bring up the sap
and clear the tubes,
Another life won?
Another life lost?
Maybe
Take care
Garry Nov 2017
Dance, you little worm and
keep that smile on your face,
Because I know how to keep
the likes of you in your place

Spend your best years jumping through
my flaming hoops of fire,
Until you're old and of no use
And begging to expire

Now just do as your told and
there'll be nothing to fear,
Or I'll steal your children
and all you hold dear

Mindless entertainment,
Money, *** and war,
Will keep you dumb and scared
and in a state of shock and awe

So take this crap and worship it
because it's all you're going to get,
You're nothing to me remember
you worthless marionette.

I've poisoned the air, the water,
and the seeds you grow and eat,
My flames are everywhere now
and there's no escaping the heat

I'm in your mouth, your hair,
your eyes and, of course, your heart,
Come in now, your time is up
And mine's about to start...
Bit bleak this one. More poems about flowers, puppies and everlasting love coming soon...maybe.
Garry Nov 2017
Ghosts on my shoulder whisper in my ear
Telling me things that I don’t want to hear,
Kneeling at the feet of the choices I’ve made
Whilst possible pasts form a long, sad parade,
It’s summer again and the sun promises love
Sent on warm photons from the heavens above
But the sun keeps hiding behind Tupperware skies
Whilst clouds cry salty tears from irritated eyes
The night brings fear of the day soon to come
Sleep brings dreams; a refuge for some
But dreams of paralysis to me are nothing new
I’m frozen to the spot now, a nightmare statue
Get up, get dressed, there’s a stone to shove
To earn my reward from those up above
So I can pay all the bills that I can't afford
Until rich enough to indulge in offshore tax fraud
Forked tongue liars selling snake oil on TV
Doesn't really mean all that much to me
When smashed bits of porcelain cover the floor
And howling creatures are scratching at the door
Eyes once blue begin to turn steely grey
Cynicism bites and eats the child in me away
Soon to be a figment of an ephemeral past
I suppose some things just aren’t meant to last
Garry Nov 2017
Wandering the well-worn grooves,
Listening to the echoes
of my possible futures and pasts,
En el jardin de senderos que se bifurcan
Garry Nov 2017
We look into each other’s eyes
Green mixes into blue,
You kiss me, I bite you
Breaking the skin,
Your blood on my lips
The butterfly between your thighs
Gently flutters its wings
Sending shockwaves throughout your body
I feel the beast in me rise
Tonight, you are the orchard
And I am the snake
And all of your apples
Are mine to take
Garry Nov 2017
So here I am, in the future; everything is shiny
and the traffic is in the sky,
The revolution didn't come and now
the people with all the toys
dance on our memories and laugh.
The rest of us, shorn of our locks and
once mighty powers,
spend the rest of our days,
eyeless in Gaza,
grinding grain at the mill.
Garry Nov 2017
I would hate to trigger
your triskaidekaphobia,
So please don't count
these words
Garry Aug 2018
The warm summer air
hangs heavy in the night sky
Keeping me awake
Inspired by a bout of clammy insomnia
Garry Jan 2018
What's the point?
a nice house,
a conservatory,
a 4K television,
a loft conversion,
a beautiful bathroom,
a pretty garden,
a garden-grill ten feet from
a fully-fitted kitchen,
organic box deliveries every week,
holidays abroad every year,
a shiny car with heated seats

It's all just ******* ****
that you'll spend the best hours
of the best days
of your ONLY life,
Bent double over
a desk or
a machine or
a counter
to earn the money
to pay for it all
before you die
What's the point?
Yeah I was in a bit of bad mood, I guess, but **** it - this is what came out for better or worse...
Garry Aug 2018
What did you do?
What did you see?
How did you end up
inside a tree?

Were you a spy?
A harlot? A witch?
Or the victim of a mad-man
scratching an itch?

Tell me lady,
what was your story?
Who was after
your Hand of Glory?

Why were you taken,
from this mortal realm?
Who put Bella
in the Wych-Elm?
Inspired by a local legend.
Garry Feb 2018
Her auburn hair and pale skin
Fire on winter snow
My heart and my hopes burn there

— The End —