my spirit
will not be caged
by conformity
and ignorance

Eleven days since first night.
Seeing us together, you'd guess
As many years.

We compare scars from previous
Love; burns, cuts, disappointments.
Always sneaking a

Peek at the other, looking for
Signs we've promised our broken
Hearted yesterselves

To look out for. Both rather getting
Scratched right now than
Amputated tomorrow.

These are the blind days; the milk-
And-honey contrast to meat and
Potatoes.  

Grown up and grounded,
All we know is that we glitter, and
Test nuggets with sceptical teeth;

Hoping to God and whomever that
We're both plain good to
The other, and not just

Too to
Be
True.

Incense sticks burning
Aroma spreads across the room
Thoughts swirling away
Silence prevails within

Pretty Woman

rest your head on my shoulder

you are richer wine

as you grow older!

On my shoulder is a space

that craves much

the spark of happiness

from your loving touch.

Now my shoulders

been imprinted these years

with your joys your tears

there you have not grown older!

Pretty Woman

my shoulders lust your rest

and for as long they can

reap the divine harvest.

All moments last forever,
trapped in time, yes,
like pages on a book,
but there, all the same,
reaching out from the past,
indelible memories, forever.

There are dreams,
then there are dreams,
some dreams, like kisses,
have portent, subtle magic,
while some dreams, and kisses,
are just dreams and kisses.

Moments, like kisses,
are trapped in memories,
magical dreams, reaching,
making the day smile,
reminding those who love,
all moments last forever.

©Paul M Chafer 2014

Shreds us the life
With bruises and cuts
Our days run rife
In the ifs and buts!

If the day was bright
If hadn’t fallen rain
If quickly passed the night
If living was no pain!

But the day was a mess
But the winds blew harsh
But time was hard pressed
But cloud hid the stars!

If happened how we need
If they all smoothly clicked
If luck came with speed
If clock slowly ticked!

But things ran amok
But nothing went right
But faced a roadblock
But fortune took flight!

Tear us apart the ifs and buts
Do steal away all happiness
Wound our life with bruises and cuts
Alas for them we have no redress!

Old Heart. Spiteful thing;
Always jumping in

Head first, never consulting
Brain.

What have you done? I have
Asked more than

Once,
On Brain's behalf.

Seems this time at least,
You're both

Working
Together.

More than once I've tried to push open a door that said pull,
I suppose it's not a coincidence that I have never pulled thoughts
from my head without at first trying to push them away.

Safety precautions say that most doors should open outwards
from an enclosed room, says that it's easier to escape if there were a fire
-there's a fire inside of me, but my door opens inwards
and I'm locked in the corner of the burning room I call my head.

There's a sign over a door in the building I work at,
it says 'exit' in a red light -which I found quite ironic,
if red means stop, and exit means leave, where do I go?

Most of life is spent in anticipation and haste,
anxiety and fear of mistake;
what changes have occurred that have made life a competition?
We were taught as children that 'slow and steady wins the race,'

so why am I speeding up at yellow streetlights,
and running towards red exit signs?

(NJ2014) © All Rights Reserved.

Let me be your shadow;
Never in your way.

It’s that time of night
Where it’s still today
But maybe it’s tomorrow.
Teetering between the present
And the future.
I’m often like that
Resistant to change,
Complacent in my old ways
But all too aware of the
Inevitability of what’s to come.
It’s the dull comfort of these chains
That keep me moored to the
Perpetual winter.
I am cursed with always knowing
But not wired for doing.
Perched upon this fence
The vista is thrilling and the scenery
enticing.
But sit I must and watch the parade
And clap to the oompah
Of a passing tuba.
Somewhere the sun is rising
I watch the clock
Tethered to yesterday
And not believing in tomorrow.