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Dreams of Sepia Nov 2015
Her nervous laugh
is the ***** of a champagne glass
he does not care she has no brains
he worries about his tie
asks her to confess
she never loved Tom
showing off his wealth
built on the sand grains
of dodgy business & deceit
& brick of bravado
a siren, she has called his heart
to sail to her across the years
all to end in a gunshot
by a pool
Have been watching the various movie versions of The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald & hope to re-read the book soon. I think the 1974 movie version with Robert Redford is the best movie version there is. Btw, if you've not read the book/seen the film & don't know what happens, she doesn't shoot him & he does not shoot her, he gets shot by someone because of something she does by accident.
Dreams of Sepia Oct 2015
If you are in pain,
if you feel sadness,
if you are racked with fear
that they judge you for
if you rage with an angry fire
if you have ever been betrayed
if you shout at the top of your voice
if you're not afraid to love
if you're not afraid to cry in public
if you sometimes want to die
if you are not afraid to question
the oppressor & reach out to the oppressed
& look for some Blessed heavenly light or
the  mysteries of the Universe in all things
if you know you are a candle
that might get snuffed out
but the memory of which will never fade
you are alive
& it's all worth it
Written because often the world & psychiatry tell us these things are not ok. They are. Shine that light & let it blind someone with it's beauty.
Dreams of Sepia Oct 2015
6.30 a.m in the summer was beautiful
the fresh morning splashed over the street
in rainbow puddles
in my head, an imaginary milk man
delivering his milk
from doorstep to doorstep
birds thrilled & in song
a bright yellow car
competing with the peeping sun
someone going for a run
now it's just dark
the sound of cars alone
reminds one it is morning
& I'm only just now going to bed
Dreams of Sepia Oct 2015
Dear Night,
please *******
out of my life
back to your bars,
theatres,
prostitutes
& big neon city lights
don't visit the suburbs
of this small town
where there is
nothing to do
but wait for the dawn
& write
because yeah
I'm even tired of that
old hat trick
& again
there are no stars
in the sky
to comfort my
rickety heart
& no-one on the telephone
& no nightingales
in the garden
I think I am going to have to catch a bus & go into town now or I shall scream because the Suburbs at night drive me insane except say, in the summer...
Dreams of Sepia Oct 2015
The clocks have gone back
& you're losing evening light
the squirrel eats whatever seeds
it can still find
the bold blackbird rustles in the bush
the crimson sunset followed
by the dazed moon,
the feral chill in the air
hits you
straight in your restless heart
as you collect wet leaves
as big as your hand
Yes, the clocks have gone back
to dark old winter time
Dreams of Sepia Oct 2015
Occasionally as when viewed through a veil
life splits, refracting like light
your pupils taut in appraisal of
all the things you can't change
& all the things you can
you pour yourself another whiskey
& somewhere someone switches off the night
a lonesome rook lands on a Church roof
a poem is read out loud to no-one
a child presses a kiss on someone's cheek
you find yourself in these moments
or you think you do
& for the moment,
that's enough
Dreams of Sepia Oct 2015
5 a.m motorcycle
where you headed to
through the endless darkness
of the empty suburbs
yours is the night to have & to hold
sleepless & free
stirring up the wind
yet lonely
so lonely
I can feel it
whatcha lookin' for,
lil' Brother
not yours the comfort
of  dreams & forgetfulness
(nor mine)
riding through the night
just killing time
in the empty suburbs
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