Jun 2018
exaggeration the word
that skips on the front of my tongue
a bar of orange-fizz light
a rooftop where the sky
is a pond-ice blue
a blush of inky flowers
shadows that drip
down
accordion-stairs
the sun fits between two of my fingertips
conversations swallowed
behind windowpanes
or lost in the clouds
a city that groans in heat
chalk-white tiles
blood buses
trees with arms wide
green condensation
and a child with ice-cream
you bruise of colour
snippet of a smile
I cannot
hold
postman delivers
your wispy ribbons
of silence
vortex that ***** me closer to you
but always further away
wonky syllables
make for
a wonky
heart
that skips on the front of my tongue
a bar of orange-fizz light
a rooftop where the sky
is a pond-ice blue
a blush of inky flowers
shadows that drip
down
accordion-stairs
the sun fits between two of my fingertips
conversations swallowed
behind windowpanes
or lost in the clouds
a city that groans in heat
chalk-white tiles
blood buses
trees with arms wide
green condensation
and a child with ice-cream
you bruise of colour
snippet of a smile
I cannot
hold
postman delivers
your wispy ribbons
of silence
vortex that ***** me closer to you
but always further away
wonky syllables
make for
a wonky
heart
Written: June 2018.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time. Often I will write a piece using photos as inspiration, and create a loose, somewhat non-cohesive poem as a result - often the outcome is quite satisfying to me. I see it as a string of images that make a whole but with a slightly clearer meaning that isn't blatantly obvious (to you perhaps, but not me). Like with much of my work, it is not totally based on real events. Feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time. Often I will write a piece using photos as inspiration, and create a loose, somewhat non-cohesive poem as a result - often the outcome is quite satisfying to me. I see it as a string of images that make a whole but with a slightly clearer meaning that isn't blatantly obvious (to you perhaps, but not me). Like with much of my work, it is not totally based on real events. Feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
(30/M/Northamptonshire, England)
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