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Within every pen
                       Stroke
Lies a formation
                Of emotion.

That differs with every
Moment
                 it silhouettes
On the page.
Eyes unraveling
Layers torn away
Each one tells a tale
Every false one thinner
Until I see you
See you
So, another day of it.
The clock an instrument that ****** you
with its skeletal finger,
and now the night crawls up, covers
the town before dinner, the cold
licking your skin the way it can
every October.

You haven’t been yourself.
You’ve been stumbling,
legs like lead pipes, head
pulsating, unmissable signal.
Stand -
a conker crack scurries
     across the skull.
Sit -
pulse in ear, gut gurgling
     just as a long-blocked sink.

Sleep is a taste of petrol,
appetite so far gone
you expect postcards.
But at least the night crawls up,
delicately, coldly.
Written: October 2018.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time for university - a rough attempt of a pastiche of TS Eliot's work. Comments welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
 Sep 2018 Skye Marshmallow
Tao
Pale
 Sep 2018 Skye Marshmallow
Tao
She would always smile
With an alabaster grin
What else is hidden
Writers block, the erectile dysfunction of authors.
The night
is a torn tapestry
where celestial bodies
burn beautifully
incinerating
the cosmic stitching
that bind us,

quantum energy
unraveling
all of reality,
as I stare
stupidly enthralled
by the awesome
complexity.

Silvers spheres
of gaseous spirals
spew atomic fury.

Other poets
and painters
have presented it better,
such a sweet
starry starry night
made to delight
all of us,

but this time
I return
my reflections
with the love
and devotion
born of
a dreamer’s
dark predilection
to romanticize
every aspect
of our lives.
Yellow flower

I dreamt that I was floating on a cloud of velvet mist
and was a yellow flower that a moon beam hadn’t kissed
I strolled along the treetops like a spider on a thread
while listening to the echoes of a choir dressed in red

Then stood along the border of the place where we once met
and whispered to a butterfly so it would not forget
To gather up some star dust in a braid so finely spun
that we could use to swing away beneath a summer sun

I walked between the lavender in purple blooms so high
that seemed to tickle as I jumped now reaching for the sky
Just wandering about this place where rainbows glow in twos
enchanted by the magic of their brightly colored hues

When there beside a lily pad where crystal waters flow
I saw a perfect smile and my eyes could not let go
And as you stood to greet me I was bathed in wondrous bliss
a lonely yellow flower longing for your moon beam kiss

Your lips like melted butter with some sugar on the side
their taste made me delirious, oh this I could not hide
When then you said, “this is a dream and soon you will awake”
I answered you, “it matters not, your love with me I’ll take”

Its then I woke to find my pillow gently ‘round my head
I thought about the dream I had and all the things we said
Then turning now I see you as your smile comes to me
You whisper,”kiss me yellow flower, my dream you’ll always be”
.

You can see I am a stranger
but you are in no danger.

If you only took
the time to look

into my pale blue eyes
you would then realise

I Am a stranger

to myself.



© Pagan Paul (10/09/18)
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