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Oct 2017 · 281
Excision
Andrew Lees Oct 2017
Flesh and face and circumstance and
Cracked unlovely countenance--it's nothing to
Disappear when the stars dim down, still less to
Return when the moonlight slows. Ah, here it is.
The moonlight slows. Honour and promises and
Envelopes to birds, and now I'm awake.

I'm awake

I'm awake and my fingers
Seize in woven knots recurved,
Recurved and then recurved again and
Finally, recurved once more, my
Whickering prehensile claws unsheathe
From fingertip to elbow's lap.
Rotten cogs and motor oil and
Mince and copper wire, black
And tangled clockwork arcs in blue
Bouquets of ozone tracery--speaking presently,
Sleep never came and you never came and
This is so crazy but I'm virtually convinced I'm
Possessing of the incorrect number of limbs.
Sep 2017 · 353
Weary
Andrew Lees Sep 2017
Slow, as if beset by dreams and
Presently, afraid to fall asleep.
Encircle, bullpen predators.
I'm not afraid to die upon this hill.
I much prefer shorter poems, both to write and to read. I think poetry is most powerful where it takes us to a single place, with vigour. Thanks for reading :)
Sep 2017 · 228
Huntsman
Andrew Lees Sep 2017
Arrow! Ah, a string, a bow:
Arranged along my hand just so.
Quiver, quiver--bowstring crack!
Shimmer, bowstring, forth and back.

Liquid speed, rude wings alight:
Which demon drives my arrow's flight?
Which dream could guide my arrow home?
Which dream, when arrows fly alone?

He's tumbling... quarry! Mumbling gore,
Stumble, snort... ah, quarry. Fall.
My arrow dreams of flying, I
Dream only of with whom it dies.
First new one in nearly a year, sorry for absence and I hope your adventures have been poetic
Dec 2016 · 350
Tempering
Andrew Lees Dec 2016
My limbs are sound, my trunk a tree!
Oh my goodness gracious me,

My wings abound my back… just see!
See what sorrow's found for me?
Dec 2016 · 366
Counterpoint
Andrew Lees Dec 2016
To a man, my
Guides agree - I
Drip with electricity

In certain lights. This
Scrap of flight, of
Gilt and gold on moonless nights

Exceeds all dreams
Or simile:
We've trebled what was meant to be!
Nov 2016 · 479
Quiver
Andrew Lees Nov 2016
Wary sermons
Bound up tight
Yet back to back - first day, then night.

First white, then black
Then left - now right...
Yet here I perch in weak twilight.

One constant, though,
One faithful rock:
The one shaped to my shoulder's notch

I find my feet,
Outrun defeat,
Collapse where dawn and twilight meet.
Nov 2016 · 777
Sunray architect
Andrew Lees Nov 2016
I'm building a cathedral out of
Needles, hope and wire;
Cast-off iron, nickel, tin
And coins of low denomination.

My rosettes dress the sunlight up in
Dripping gems, like royalty;
With scarlet slows the sounding bells while
Amber makes the dust motes lazy.

Seven halls, eleven arches
And eighteen darkened booths
Hold a single breath - an unfinished
Thought with a heart of dripping water

And legs made of undressed marble.
The steeples dip their faces in the rainclouds
As I crouch among the shingles with
A wooden mallet and a mouthful of nails.
Nov 2016 · 247
Outset
Andrew Lees Nov 2016
I'm dressed for travel!
Tattered rags and
Drawstring leather saddlebags,

Home-made shoes and
Unkempt hair...
A woven sack? What's hiding there?

A folding knife, a
Length of string, a
Photograph, a mandolin,

A lumpen package bound in twine,
An apple and a draught of wine,

An empty space I've yet to fill--
Lord willing, though, I think I will.
Wrote this at the end of a personal life stage, where I was moving on, literally and metaphorically, from a great deal I'd previously held dear. I was taken with the idea of leaving with nothing, but owning within me a cavernous new space to pack with what I pleased.
Nov 2016 · 234
Breathe
Andrew Lees Nov 2016
Profusion burst, but
At the end of days,
Like a sunflower.
I wrote these three lines as an opening to a longer piece, then after a long time sitting and staring and looking daft I realised I couldn't really add to it without diminishing the whole.
Oct 2016 · 662
Hither
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
The night sky stumbled, lost in thought
And caught up under slippered foot
By the scattered playthings of the dusk--
Pillows, tinsel, drifts of cotton wool, and
Brightly coloured sheets of fingerpainted
Foolscap paper. Gathering her haughty skirts,
Embroidered at the hem with silver coins
And lined with lightly patterned silk of
Deeply pleated royal blue, she turned an
Elegant and stately pirouette and flung her
Arms toward the bashful moon.
I added this as one of my first poems on HP, but I've made a few crucial edits and it reads vastly better now. I know free verse is the dominant form (and has been so for the past century, in one way or another) and I write in this mode myself quite a bit but I like the rhythmic drive meter lends - this poem is written entirely in iambs and trochees and it's satisfying to feel the specific rhythm this meter creates.
Oct 2016 · 972
Freedom song
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
I don't like birds in cages,
I can't abide fish in tanks:
But the prison I'm in is the size of my skin
And it fits me just perfectly, thanks!
Inspired by the late, great Spike Milligan.
Oct 2016 · 397
Reflections
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
Starlight stops and steps and skips like
Stones across the water while
The dragonflies
Land.
Pause, and gather thought.
Oct 2016 · 280
Sonnet for her
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
My God, you’re dancing – hands like startled doves
And gently curving ankles keep my time
Just so. Syncopated hearts intermesh
With lips, rhythmic eyes and then the coda…

Twin systems colliding. It’s terminal.
Let’s mix. Leave me stumbling like a drunkard
And praising seven velvet witnesses
With words made of breath and eyes cast from starlight.

Gasp once. Trap air before it can betray
How close you are to melting like butter
And I to puddling at your collarbone.
It’s faster now, mixed like milk in coffee

Or intermingled breath flowing slowly
Down the valley forged between our bodies.
I know form poetry is passe these days -- it's strange to think free verse has actually been ascendant for nearly 100 years! It seems form poetry has been thoroughly licked, although free verse never quite seems to get over needing to prove itself.

However, sonnets are lovely especially when written in 'strict' form (three quatrains and a couplet, ten iambic syllables each - no cheating!) - the restriction is like a painter's frame, it is easy enough to paint freeform but the frame provides a lovely bracket, and what's not shown is as important as what is.
Oct 2016 · 304
Four short poems on writing
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
An open book,
A feathered pen.
An inkwell? No, a vein instead.



A spider crawled across my page:
Just look at all the mess it made!




Words in rows of
Fullstop beat,
Iambic hearts and
Couplet feet
Pursued my pen with stately rage:
They chased it straight across the page!

But now their quarry's quit and done, they
Slouch off sulking, one by one.
The brave remain, by choice or chance:
Words in rows to turn and dance!



*Crumpled words and jumbled wire
Catch askance and ****** afire--
Burst in terse and tumbled flame,
Cursed, my verses burn today.

Burst in terse and tumbled flame,
Verses never heard again
Return their words, inert and tame.
Cursed, my verses burn today.
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
I wrote this long ago for a friend with cancer - a small malignancy the size of a pearl in her lung. The hateful thing metastasised to her pancreas after two years in the shadows - she lost her battle last week. She was 73. She was firm friends with my mother my entire life, and her own children Isobel and Craig are like my own flesh and blood. I was unable to attend the funeral due to ill health, but she requested this poem be read out at her funeral - I'm sharing it here as a tribute to her, and I've changed names to preserve her privacy and dignity. **


This kingdom's hewn of time and words
And glances flashing over
Shadows, shapes and silhouettes
And pearls of smoke and ochre.

Rude invaders! Generals!
Who dares encroach our borders?
"Naught but pearls my princess, so
We strike! At dawn! No quarter!".

Set shoulders low and feet aplant
And curl your fingers slowly.
Your enemy is swift and lean,
Ten thousand times below you.

No mercy from a princess who
Instilled in fresh disciples
Wisdom, courage, whimsy, love and
When it's called for... rifles.

Gather muskets! Catapults!
Oh marshalls! Summon nurses!
The game's afoot and outcomes?
Well, who dwells on whom we versus?

For masses swell behind you and your
Gleaming armour guides us.
Swords aflame! We saw! We came!
Wakes of pearls behind us!

Ten years hence, one hundred, more
Louises, Davids, Andrews,
Will sing with you your victory,
Sandy Alexandrou.
Oct 2016 · 422
Coda
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
Idle talk and sullen hands and eyes askance at roses--
Nothing more plus something less makes zero, one supposes.

Dust to dust and flowers, well, the flowers dried to parchment
Scribed with future's promises -- in blood, then thrice discarded.

Once was for my labours tilling soil and shaping branches,
Another for the petals growing shells and shields and lances.

Third is wonders yet to come, beyond that yawns a darkness.
But death's concern is transient. We all must live, regardless.
This is a study in 14-syllable lines - dubbed 'fourteeners' (can't imagine why), they aren't very common now but were very popular in the Elizabethan era and I personally think they're all class. Provide a strong meter to draw the eye along (this one uses trochees) and they are lyrical, reflective and quite lively as they skip their way across the page.
Oct 2016 · 235
Gift
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
Clasp your hands behind your back,
Count to fifteen slowly.
Close your eyes and form a wish,
Kiss the air and show me.

Pass my tools, a block of stone,
A glass of wine, and time alone.
Some silk to lay a newborn dove:
Your masterpiece is ready, love.
Oct 2016 · 705
Adrift
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
Eyes left wide, for
Now I've seen
The vanguard of my fevered dreams and

Jungle cats pace in my brain.
Paws alight, their
Claws aflame

And sinews
Incandescent white--
Seamless, green, their glowing eyes

Constellate where shadows heap.
Enough! My skull,
The marrow creaks...

What hells we weave
Through. Bitter dreams,
Awake, asleep or caught between.
One of my favourite forms is triplets, with a syllable count of 4/4/8 (or thereabouts). In this piece, I tried inverting every second stanza: 4/4/8, 8/4/4 et al. I think the inversion worked, it provides a nice visual and metric link between each stanza and lends the piece improved flow. It's a worthwhile device I'll definitely be exploring further in upcoming pieces.
Oct 2016 · 959
Ravelling
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
I've caught this instant - firmly, by the
Tailfeathers. Plucked in darting flight and
Iridescent in the hollow of my hand, sheer
Primacy is utterly intoxicating me.
A study in iambic rhythm, I most enjoy the work and techniques of the old masters and usually try and pay close attention to meter and scansion. Postmodernism has freed up the poetic form but I do love the humbling talent required to work within meter.
Oct 2016 · 1.2k
Riverbed
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
My fingers close on nothing more
Or less than what was there before,

But what is now was meant to be.
This heart will starve in reverie.

So to the next, whichever path
This river takes, what's past is past,

What's next is next... but now is mine--
My gift to me, all bound in twine

And velvet drape. The water's still.
Shall I leap? I think I will.
Oct 2016 · 268
Next
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
I ***** a finger - scribe in red
But lord, oh how I miss my pen.

Yet on I write - I glance, assess
If beauty lurks among the mess...

Not near enough. I slice a vein,
Wipe my face and dive again.
Oct 2016 · 248
August and Everything After
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
I remember those August days,
Trembling on the brink of summer
Like a swimmer dipping a toe.
I remember blameless hours spent
Drifting through the heat like a blowfly,
Indolent and
Slow.
I remember casual cricket games and
Cut price soft drinks causing a local sensation.
I remember the group gatherings behind the scout hall
To share cigarettes and have a stab at being adults,
Secure in the knowledge that such things were impossible.
Adults were a separate species and we would never grow up.
We were complete as we were.
I remember November, hopping from
Pool of shade to pool of shade like a bullfrog,
All to get to the river and fry anyway
A tangerine mosaic of sticky sweets and dry grass,
Of swimming horizons and excited, sleepless nights where
We would play childish word games and
Talk for hours about precisely nothing.
Yet, to us, it was everything.
A loosely jointed circle between the pool, the shop and
The park, in those days when icecreams were 50c and
School a rapidly sinking memory.
I remember the sun hovering above us like a polished golden coin,
Cycloptic witness to our petty thefts and juvenile scheming,
Striking down on our heads like a marshmallow hammer,
Making me want to stretch out and purr.
I remember the slow receding of the heat
When the summer scale is lifted for another year
And life must be faced once more.
I remember the web of friendship we had woven with our
Words and with our deeds dissolved under the rain of Autumn and
Left me with cupped hands, hands
Filled with the sugared water of my happiness.
Sweet nectar that dried soon enough and
Left my hands sticky, *****, stark against the
Bitter wind of the winter.
I remember falling off the tightrope of my life and finding
Not the net that I had never needed but
A drop that I could only guess at,
Where the sun fell away with quicksilver speed and
I was stripped naked by the wind left
Cold and shivering, hugging my knees as I fell.
I remember growing up and leaving my childhood
Behind like a skin I had outgrown, like a
Friend that I had broken contact with.
I remember coloured dreams breaking like crystal.
I remember being at the top of my mountain and
Tumbling away, away
I remember crying for my
Joy gone by.
I remember, one day I will forget and
Then I will have moved on and my hands will be
Clean again.
Wrote this many years ago, at age 16. My first realisation I had left childhood behind, I still recall writing it and all the images, ah the energy of youth.
Oct 2016 · 315
Kiss
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
A sidelong glance,
A lazy stare:
Silently, our souls compare

Whatever was and yet to be...
It plays out most delightfully.
Oct 2016 · 259
Persistence
Andrew Lees Oct 2016
You faded into rumour
(Something my head heard my heart once say)
And now your ballet-flat footprints in the
Valleys of my mind fill with time and
Volcanic ash and the heat and the flash of
Our glorious supernova collapses into a
Dull grey chunk of **** and pig iron.

I look closely, and I see your thumbprint.

You're still with me.
Sep 2016 · 246
Midnight
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
The path is long
And overgrown, so
Heaven knows I'll walk alone.

No matter, though:
The moon's my guide,
Her fingers silver, laced with mine.

"So where to next?"
I stop to ask.
"All that you wish shall come to pass,"

She whispers mute
With lips of comets'
Tracery. I'm struck, astonished.

Feet aflame
And eyes the same,
I trap the wind and speak her name...

"My precious, gorgeous
"Tireless Guide,
"I'll run until you're by my side!"

I take a step,
Then run, then fly
The overgrowth left far behind.
Sep 2016 · 468
Down here
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
It's better this way--
Infinitely gracious through some colossal mistake of philosophy,
Fists bleeding crumbs and spent cartridges but no, not here
Not even heaped in trembling awful coarse and remnant parts
So I gulp my spent errors - hid in the corner cloaked and dripping,
All chin-slicked rivers and dead raw mouthfuls my
Open-jaw distention retching light and dread obscenity.
And already I'm done - the earth is too rich and your face is too much
And my skull is not a crown
And my eyes are not a crown and
My fingers, stretched in nets of elegant blue recurve all casual magnetism
Slow repose and measured coronas of flesh and revelled refraction
But no, still not a crown
Not even down here where the rainclouds cough
And as I lift my face and tongue all wrapped all very strange in
Feathers and claws and elegant uniforms still no still no ah! here there's nothing.
But the maps are not a science and never you promised me never no
Never, not even as we stretched and turned in revelled liquid bursts of languid sanity.
My skull's a cracked chariot, never not a crown
And it never could it hold, not even for a moment,
Even a broken-down notion of you.
First-ever free-verse piece, inspired by Walt Whitman and Ginsberg. I still prefer form poetry as here are many more unlovely sequences of words in a free-verse piece than a sonnet or similar; but if a poet is especially talented the free verse is tumbling and exuberant.
Sep 2016 · 283
Self-portrait
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
The teeth are stones - the mouth a line while
Fingers bend in knuckled spines.
The face? A slash of lips and eyes
While pages prance with sprawl and lies.
Sep 2016 · 176
... and everything after
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
I carve the dusk with
Silver wings:
This day’s long dead – now grander things

Can softly speak,
Then spread, then sing!
This starlit cauldron’s simmering...
Sep 2016 · 156
Tomorrow
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
The scene is cast,
The stage is set,
Embracing though we've never met:

This facelit ocean's endless, yet
So is this handless clock we've set.
Sep 2016 · 206
Harvest
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
I've seven supernova all
Gathered in a heap,
They're rotting under hessian
And their own dull heat.

The planting came in autumn:
Winter's for the sleep and
Springtime's slumber wakening.
Summer scythes, summer reaps,

Summer's plenty, summer feasts.
Summer plunders. Spring is sweet,
Autumn's old and winter sleeps--
Good lord, what did my summer reap?
Sep 2016 · 406
Resonance
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
Sorrows pinned upon the breeze
Delight in flight, as might the leaves
Stern autumn plucked from summer's sleeve
Gladly dancing death's reprieve.
Inspired by the work of Emily Dickinson
Sep 2016 · 209
Descent
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
The air is thick with sundipped birds
Of red and blue and tangerine
While watchers smoke on oaken stools
And black machines roar on and on
Sep 2016 · 297
Forgiveness
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
Dressed in effervescence,
All drunk through of colour,
Woven loose with counterpoint,
Singing in swelling crescendo!

Oh, how did you ever taste of constellations?
Set adrift on your oceans of moonkiss liquid velvet and
Dancing to the beat of lapping water and frigate birds.
You return to me sometimes,
All odd hours and confusion with your compass,
Somnolence and promises and
Twists of intermingled breath.
A cup half-drained my heart beats the same in
Dash and rhythmic countenance.

The perch of my lips, the curve of my jaw...
You're woven in the knit of my brow
But your map's all mayhap, crumple and
Softly spoken whimsy, folded twice and
Sealed with sighs and dreams of distant islands.

Farewell, farewell... ah, fare thee well with your gifted currents
And boat you've wrought of nothing more than your own
Cupped hands, enrobed in light and riven through
With loosely jointed daydream.
My second attempt at free verse
Sep 2016 · 162
After
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
This dream is done, and
Now I see
Our gentle synchronicity.
Sep 2016 · 707
Choreography
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
Words in rows with
Fullstop beat,
Iambic heart and
Couplet feet
Pursued my pen with
Stately rage--
They chased it straight across the page!

Now their quarry's quit and done
They slouch off sulking, one by one.
The brave remain, by choice or chance:
Words in rows to turn and dance.
Sep 2016 · 263
Motion
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
Strangeling ship on nervous seas,
Boiler stuffed with dust and leaves I thought I'd
fade

but worse, I'm me.
Wretched, an obscenity.

So fingers slicked in tangerine,
Done and wistful, dreaming, free...
I kiss the sea and drown in steam.
Ah, hopelessness! Extremity!
Sep 2016 · 267
Ashes
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
Crumpled words and jumbled wire
Catch askance and ****** afire.
Burst in terse and tumbled flame,
Cursed, the verses burn today.


Burst in terse and tumbled flame,
Verses never heard again
Return their words, inert and tame.
Cursed, the verses burn today.
Sep 2016 · 181
Today
Andrew Lees Sep 2016
This desert needs
One drop of rain to
Burst in red and green again.

But bless my soul, my skin is parched.
What's yet to be will come to pass.
Aug 2016 · 342
Murmur
Andrew Lees Aug 2016
We intertwine like softwing birds:
Another sign my heart's reversed

In sweet recurve. Each beat is yours,
Pumping wine through leaflet doors

For evermore. This sacred space,
Lover's sighs and rosehip lace

And feathers - oh! Let's fly, let's fly...
Let's leave it blessed and seize the sky.
Aug 2016 · 159
Visitor
Andrew Lees Aug 2016
I've many regrets.
Bent heavy with them.
In every direction, left buried in them.

I'm trembling with tension.
Ah, pity my heart.
Pity its labour in the pitiless dark,

Broken and artless.
Bitter, the sky.
Pity my wings, too withered to fly.

If pity remains, please pity the breeze.
Pity her soul, she keeps visiting me.
Aug 2016 · 222
TWILIGHT
Andrew Lees Aug 2016
The night's unfurled, horizon bleeding
Fire across the iris of the sky.
I shake my coat, as if to rest--
The moon's a weary pageant and I
Sit cross-legged, so as to reminisce,
All sulk and sideways glances and
My fingers breathe of their own accord.
But what is without limit? An unfinished thought
Or the space between graves--
The sky's a loping echo
And the evening sighs with me
But everything is fragile when we
Teeter on the edge of the promise of
Another heartbeat.
I'm spent breath and resonance and
Suddenly it seems to me
There is but one possible moment--
This frozen tumble into the infinite--  
And we're spectacular at last in
The final twilight of the near departed,
An endless reflection of the divine
With our wings cut of
Wind and our eyes cast of
Starlight.

— The End —