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Sam Lawrence May 2022
In deep ground,
where other bones
lie very still. Or
under a twisted

soil wrapped root,
from a tree too tall
to fall, until the day
it does. Long

shadows are broken
sticks that snap;
over a floor, across
a crumbled wall.
Sam Lawrence Feb 2022
Here, beneath my ribs;
underneath the chewy strands,
my lanky ambitions, naked
without sense. As a finger
held to thumb, between
a petalled gift. Kiss each
inch of me. Make me sigh.
Roll me only when I'm dead.
Sam Lawrence Feb 2022
I feel it in my crooked toes
and in my wonky two front teeth.
I see it where my clothes are worn
and in the gaps around my shoes.
I notice it in others too; in the little
signs of wear and tear,
in the slog of getting old.
Poor is all wrapped up cold,
inside a shabby winter coat.
You can try to hide it
while you're living
or **** it like a sugared treat.
Sam Lawrence Jan 2022
Just before a falling,
the tilted horizon decides
it must be right.
Perhaps it's pride?
The lilting ship is oblivious
to each stumbled embrace.
The breathless drunk, stands
leaning on a brick wall.
I recognise it in solitudes.
I heard it many times;
between a dozen tolls
of midnight's bells.
Sam Lawrence Jan 2022
I'm unnerved by hearing flattery.
Did I invite it with my neediness
or coax it with a smile? Perhaps
the words that follow are less
appetising fare. Or is the flatterer
expecting reassurances in return?
Unless I'm sure it's quite sincere,
I'm left unsure what to say.
I add a simple "Thank you"
in the hope it goes away.
Sam Lawrence Dec 2021
I have drifted slightly
from my steady orbit.
Just far enough to see
myself still living out
my usual life, whilst I
watch; a casual ghost.
I catch few words from
all my conversations.
None of the meaning.
Nodding. Without. Really
listening to the steady
falling of the universe.
Sam Lawrence Dec 2021
The parks are all much duller now
the children have gone home.
No little shrieks to spike the peaks
of every skybound swing.
No swipe of vibrant colour from
the roundabout's slow spin.
Instead the frames of metal poles
lay dormant under coats of paint
so thick and black that even
crows can hardly dare to perch.
Outside the old dogs eye us both.
Their long stares soaked
with yearning
for the real wilderness.
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