Love takes many forms,
Often takes us by surprise,
Are we defenceless against this emotion?
For that is all it is, in its entirety,
Chemical impulses sloshing through grey matter,
Forget the heart, the blood pump,
This is only for the ache, the feeling of yearning,
The brain is where it counts, headology.
We are wholly consumed, body, mind, soul,
Lack of appetite, yet, we are devoured inside out,
Gasping on awakening, if lucky enough to sleep,
Denying the truth of it, accepting what cannot be,
We dither, speculate, play scenarios,
Lament, rejoice, laugh, cry, lament again,
Every waking moment inhabited by our affection,
And yet, these feelings that hold us prisoner,
Trap us inside our own souls,
Can vanish faster than a tropical storm,
With no consideration for the wreckage remaining,
No thought for those hurt,
Love has moved on,
Fickle creature, and yet,
We adore its presence,
Hate its leaving,
And like a retreating tide,
Await its return with avid pleasure,
For nothing, nothing,
Can ever compare.

©Paul Chafer 2014

At least some will say: jolly good fun,
When civilisation crumbles, comes undone,
Enraged fish, a horrible toxic dish,
Who would have imagined, laughable,
That we could poison an ocean; truly!
But we will do just that; so very soon,
This ***** bites, consumers shall say,
Leaving the tills, oh, have a nice day,
This ***** bites back, nature cackles,
Unwary fools, shredding on her hackles,
And all will pay, every single one of us,
Protest all you like, march: kick up a fuss.
But you who ruined the sea, polluted the air,
Oh not me, you cry, voice filled with despair,
Yes you, ****** the land for all she’s worth,
Stinking parasites despoiling green Earth.
And when at last, we are all but done,
Through hazy smog, viewing a setting sun,
At least some will say: jolly good fun.

© Paul Chafer 2014

I glimpse her, as wearily,
I tread upon the stair;
Brief flickering movement
Which really isn’t there.
She taunts, and teases,
Never showing her face,
Drifting along the landing,
With ballerina grace.
Quite often, whenever lonely,
Her sibilant voice calls;
A lingering shallow whisper,
Echoing softly from the walls.
She sounds, so haunting,
Like tinkling silver bells;
Ringing enticing incantations;
While casting ghostly spells.
Hairs bristle, on my neck;
Spine becoming trembling ice,
Freezing breath inside my throat:
Heart trapped within a vice.
We touch, I am afraid; but
My fear is that I’ll find,
This unearthly spectral visitor
Is an unkindness of my mind.


© Paul Chafer 2014

Watching every move
Before pouncing! Our cat kills:
Harmless floating fluff!

© Paul Chafer 2014

I had not planned on dying today,
It was not on my list of, ‘things to do’,
How strange, I think, eyelids crushing tears
How very strange, body crushed beyond repair.

Splattered beneath a split-giant-oak,
Its yellowish heart, splayed open,
Pretty though, gleaming in a lightning flash,
The remaining upright, sentinel-like-spike,
Illuminated, so bright, so very bright.

Rain, lashing rain, mingling with my tears,
Thunder rumbles, tumbles, fades away,
Pain, clashing pain, surging with my fears,
Heart thudding, the beat, slowly fading away.

Breathing laboured, chest collapsing, beyond aid,
My groin slaked in blood, **** and stinking ****,
Hips; that will never again gyrate with pleasure,
Speared by a branch through my lower gut.

An ‘unmentionable wound’ so unbecoming,
The real smell of death, the smell of war,
Upon a medieval battlefield, minus the ale,
Typical, eh, could use a drink right now.

I mange to draw one small breath, a gasp,
But I know it’s my last, my very last,
Darkness pressing in all around, so cold.

I even manage a smile, thinking,
This was not on my list of, ‘things to do’,
I had not planned on dying today.

© Paul Chafer 2014

Midnight roses, with bruised petals,
Soft and sensual, touching, touching,
Arousing aromatic scents,
Lingering in my mind, teasing,
And I imagine you’re here with me,
Touching, touching, so touching,
We see the stars, whirling,
Lost souls, waking, stirring,
Knowing, we are more than a dream,
Beyond anything palpable, and still,
We touch, and I wonder, will you stay,
As I gather you to me, embracing,
Knowing, we can live within a dream,
I push away the empty pillow,
Thoughts of you, drifting, fading,
Aromatic scents, lingering, fading,
Alone again, without you, dreaming of,
Midnight roses, with bruised petals.

© Paul Chafer 2014

When life becomes a dream,
From which one can’t escape,
Reality a distant memory,
To which one can’t relate,
It takes a special talent,
To keep oneself in shape.

When all around have faltered,
Living up to one’s expectations,
Friends suddenly becoming strangers,
Along with forgotten relations,
It is time to set one’s sights,
On undiscovered destinations.

To search out the missing link,
That makes one’s life complete,
To exercise the flagging spirit,
Until one’s mind overcomes defeat,
To truly know oneself once more,
Turning the ebbing tide of retreat.

When one finally accepts the Karma,
That belongs to man by right,
Thoughts finding the given destiny,
Illuminated by inner sight,
One’s dream eventually touches peace,
Where life blossoms in the light.

© Paul Chafer 2014