There's a light on in my mind If you look closely you'll find The light's merely a glimmer-- A fragment lost in time. It flickers in and out-- a futile manifestation of doubt, my mind, the bygone and broken-- A vessel left unmoored, endlessly wandering through memories obliterated by time. The lighthouse of my mind Darkened now--no ships to find just lost souls and memories-- fractured pieces left behind, eternally echoing in the night.
Time that is the enemy of purpose, Breathing birthing nothing but burden of ageing, Wasting the time, in shortage, which one regrets when wrinkled and disabled, Waiting for Grim to release from illness. Alas, if sleep is the cousin of death, This is dying and seeing death coming.
Life is short and making every single an eventful, admirable movie. Never experiencing a dull moment. Merely is impossible. If you can’t prove me wrong.
A bold density of memory anchors, scattered across a past where colour saturates like someone sat on the remote control, holy hand grenades on loose afternoons with the slap and bicker of passing the joypad in blithe ignorance of washing piles deadlines and empty pockets
Drifting in the now, helium light, well-heeled but drab, absent fingers trace the slight links on the line around arthritic ankles as they gently, surely give
We were once well acquainted with the wee small hours adept at navigating neon jungles and the deeps of kitchen philosophies entwined with kebabs and illicit frissons, in vino veritas conspiracies that took weeks to unpick and apologise for but passed
Now, if seen, those hours hold different snags, surrounding plants are far less exotic but familiar brambles cut deep, immutable truths roar when the ***** doesn’t do the talking and morning burrs not so easily dislodged by a full English and a million teas
I want to be eighteen forever, I don't want my skin to turn to leather.
Will I forget the people who raised me? The one's who pushed me to become everything I could be.
When I'm sitting in my rocking chair, with my withering hair, will I remember the good times, the bad, the experiences and the memories? or will they just dissolve into my empty stare, while wishing I was still there.
You irritating ****! Somehow you got yourself under my teenage skin and you stayed there for thirty odd years with the stubborness of a tick we have grown up together and old together dynamite wouldn’t shift you now you are a part of me as I am a part of you
The sort of poem you can only write for someone who you have been in love with and has loved you since forever! We have been through loads both good and bad, last week I could cheerfully have brained him-but he's mine and I am his- that is all to be said!
.. Rust makes weak old parts until they crack in caustic riot. Then slow we slough through finite term searching for some quiet. Then settle in a nice safe box to wait this whole thing out A smile for every grateful year prostrate to our diet.