I shove another pill down my throat
And drink it down with wine

It makes my head fuzzy
And my face warm

But it will make me sleep more
and think of you less

Because you, my dear,
made several nights cry with me

For that night was young
and i thought it was ours

These few hours that are mine to keep
remind me that nobody will regret
my passing - no fond family will weep.
Some friends will think of me and then forget.

I am no loss, unless, perhaps, to England,
her fields and farms and winding country lanes,
her rivers and her heather-covered moorland
where wild ponies gallop in the rains.

Missing the last bus after show
Deciding to walk on home-
Taxi's all booked up so they say
So it's off towards home alone-
Raining , foggy , shiny streets
Not too many lights that glow-
Streets cobble stones and narrow
Wet from rain and melting snow-
Souls on corners alone they stand
One here one over there-
Alone and backs to walls of brick
In the fog and dampest air-
Looking so like shadows on a wall
Or all trying to do same-
Waiting there for God knows what
There being as if nothing to explain-
Hats all pulled down lower still
Collars way up high-
Coats almost to the ground
All dark and black color of night sky-
One carries onward and forward going
With ears still open wide-
Wondering what they could be doing
As if holding walls up without pride-
Standing there alone in night air
Darkest part of night-
As if trying to be invisible
Or frightened of daylight-
Midnight statues here and there
One soon passes this place-
Of motionless souls of as if stone
All with hidden signs of face-

( a true story )

Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright 2018

our quiet rooms
compartmentalized
like louis vuitton
to basic calvin kliens
secretly living the best
of our lives
under the stars
and each other’s tired eyes

Who would think a rose so sweet
Would dry and crumble at the feet
And blooms that scent the night and day
Would steal a heart, then fade away

With petals soft and fondly red
Sweet essence fills an addled head
Then turns to dust before the eyes
Leaving naught, but sad surprise

Who would think such thorny vine
Could lift a blossom as divine
And by the stem on which it stands
Could so wrong an offered hand

Such strength and beauty is rarely true
A blessing owned by very few
As 'neath the soil, in winters keep
There sleeps a rose to tear a cheek

Who would think that perfect bloom
Could be a bane, a curse of doom
So fine a sight, yet in disguise
A rose to ***** and blind the eyes

I wonder if our money's worth
What we are doing to the Earth
But all that paper painted green
Is a pale spectre of a tree
The ones who gave us
Food and clothing
Shade and shelter
Hands and feet
We cut them, burn them wantonly
And fill the atmosphere with heat
And gas and dust and ash and smoke
Enough to make the creatures choke
There used to be a lot of them
The trees that gave us oxygen
Our tangled shuttles break the loom
Carbon born and carbon doomed
We'll find that trees are what we need
When we find money cannot breathe