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Leigh May 11
Crowded streets, alive with a rhythm
That moves too fast for me.
I carefully weave through a town for the artists
Who need someone to be,
And recede into a quiet place;

A crowded mind, sustaining an echo chamber
Fit for our times.
Surrounded by a thousand decisions
I look back at a life
Up on a pedestal.

Where I missed the signs in smiles and glances,
And hold out for those second chances
At the moments that I've missed;
Never lived.

(I) Detach from the dream disrupting the rhythm
That makes you you, and me?
Lost in time;
Compulsively collecting the moments
That made me want to be
In this quiet place to read

(Read) All the signs in smiles and glances;
I won't change the world discarding chances
To move on from when we lived,
But we'll live, we'll live, we'll live...

(I'll live)...through all the second-hand supposed answers
Composing poems in hopes of small advances
Towards the peace of mind I need
To find me again.

Crowded streets, alive with a rhythm
That moves too fast for me.
.
Leigh Mar 5
.

Meet me for a pint after work.

Take me through the days, weeks, or months
We've neglected ourselves -
Overworked and inebriated respectively.
You've never been without a job -
But don't neglect a word.

Take utmost care through the moments
That define your time: The trials, troubles,
And metamorphic events which reframe
Your view of the world, or your relationship with it.
Tell me about the ones who make it easy.

We'll allow time for the detail.
Your moments constitute a vicarious roadmap;
A means to improve my world.

In return I can offer up a Dublin dinner:
The best advice I've never followed,
My sincere admiration,
And a proper pint of Guinness.

.
Sure there's eatin' and drinkin' in that!

.
Leigh Dec 2018
If she knows, she's keeping the secret of generations. When she leaves a room, it resonates for her until she returns.

A generosity of spirit unsurpassed and a one of a kind soul.

I'll miss her something serious.
It was better knowing she was there. A little light to treat the bleak.
Leigh Nov 2018
.

My everything swelled

Until my fear grew legs

So to carry me from you

And your everything too

.
At all costs.
Leigh Oct 2018
I've always known her on her own;
Bereaved by the man whose name I carry with me
Before I first carried it home, ******* on my thumb.
With no time for waiting on the day to catch up,
She's up and gone on tomorrow's adventure.

We've often run to her along the trail; To lose her again
As she paced up the Burren, or along a country lane in
Liscannor until met with a natural place to pause -
To fill her lungs with a wistful world,
Then to double back for the ones she loves.

I've always known her on her own, but never alone.
Leigh Oct 2018
Ease yourself in up to your waist
And grit your teeth against the cold.
Take a slow step deeper with searching toes;
Learn to wade again against the tide.

I have always preferred the land;
To stand where I can see a horizon's
Distance and not risk being
Enveloped by it.

My risk was his wish underlined
By a body of work. He's away now from a life
Made up of **** ups, and break ups,
And love, and changing lives.
For Scott Hutchinson 1981 - 2018

"... a version of man built to collapse in crumbs."
Leigh Oct 2018
.
For
Once
Stand down
And guide me
Through this pantomime
Of old improvised distasters
Amalgamating in real time to create a start,
Or start to create another
End to cycle through
Next time 'round
With more
To
Lose
.
Fibonacci.
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