Clay Micallef: Poems - Hello Poetry

Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member

Apr 8 · 77

I Wait For The Storm (full version)

Clay Micallef Apr 8

I Wait For The Storm (full version)

I think of
church’s and trains,
I think of your
interpretation of the
truth, I think of going
to someplace mysterious,
I think of quiet rooms with
sixty watt bulbs softly
swaying above empty
bottles and scattered poetry,
I think of the city birds
scaring the crows, I think
of Wagner and the death of
young soldiers, I think of
naked ghosts in the garden.
I sleep into the late afternoon,
I open the window to smell
the rain, I watch the winter
trees undress -
I wait for the storm …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Apr 7 · 96

View From A Room

Clay Micallef Apr 7

View From A Room

Give me a dark room
with a seductive view
of this smoky city,
let me hear the soft
blue jazz spill from your
open window, let me
watch as you move so
slowly through the
naked light, let me
question your intimacy.
Is there a sadness in your
voice, a loneliness like mine,
can I see your complete
intangible beauty before
I close these tired eyes.
I will hold out my hand
for the crumbs of your
love, your confession
will be sweet and painfully
pure, your sexuality
a portrait of god,
your language will be
scattered pieces of truth,
your war a fierce illusion of
strength, your poetry so
pure so perfectly unique,
your beauty so effortlessly
complete …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Apr 6 · 398

The Forgotten Writers

Clay Micallef Apr 6

The Forgotten Writers

I have spent days
beside you and a
thousand nights
alone, dreaming
on the edge of
spineless books
too afraid to jump!
now I find myself,
drinking, dancing,
laughing with the
forgotten writers,
wrapped up tightly
with all their solitary
words, words scribbled
in relatable misery, I have
fallen in unrecognisable
love with their loss,
their lust, their insane
style of adventure, their
relentless drunkenness,
their sorrow, their suffering,
their almost unbelievable
grief …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Apr 5 · 72

Wilderness

Clay Micallef Apr 5

Wilderness

Now that you are here
with your bracelets and
your chains, now that you
are here with your gypsy
cards and your secret charts,
now that you are here with
your waves of midnight hair
and collection of fallen stars.
I have seen a carnival of
******, I have seen corridors
of wasted lives. Now I hide
in the mountains with my
hatred and my hunting knife,
now I hide in the mountains
with my wild eyes and my
books about the wilderness …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Apr 3 · 46

Wide Eyed And Beautiful

Clay Micallef Apr 3

Wide Eyed And Beautiful

I want to grow old
and die in the sun,
I want to walk through
a lush vineyard with
plump ripe fruit,
I want to lie beside a
river listening to small
birds doing small bird
things, I want to watch
marshmallow clouds
pass beneath a happy
blue sky. Don’t lay me
down on some
unsympathetic bed,
where my mind will
become stagnant, where
fond memories will fade
into the obscenities of
old age. Wrap me up in
the arms of my love,
send us way out into the
splendid sea, let the salty
air caress our skin, let the
waves wash over our
crippled bodies, let us
remember when we were
wide eyed and beautiful
so - innocent
so - young …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Apr 3 · 59

The Awful Truth

Clay Micallef Apr 3

The Awful Truth

No one wants to read
your pretty little poems
she said,
drink the **** yellow ink
from the cowards pen,
write about the early
morning ****** puking
in the gutters, drunks in
alleyways wrapped in
coffee stained news papers
snoring with the crack heads
and sewer rats, dreaming of
long legs and two dollar wine.
Give me music that makes me
cry, give me bombs on city streets
a young soldiers missing legs,
give me the sound of an insane
saxophone from forty stories high.
Give me death - lust - fire!
give me back the hum drum
rhythm of the beat poets -
for gods sake tell it how it is
give me the awful truth
after all that’s all there is …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Apr 2 · 79

Chinaski Lives Next Door

Clay Micallef Apr 2

Chinaski Lives Next Door

It’s 3am again,
the old guy next door
turns his radio on,
Barber cuts through
the silence with every
tortured string, he types
his poetry until the paper
walls weep, I listen to the
rhythm of the keys as the
gentle breeze makes the
curtains dance with the
sad symphony, as the
early morning sun throws
its lonely shadows onto
the pure white sheets
I think of war and peace …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 31 · 76

The Fig Tree

Clay Micallef Mar 31

The Fig Tree

I walk upon this
tragic earth, and
as my bones grow
weary, I rest beneath
a fig tree, I watch the sky
sacrifice another sun.
I listen to the wind sing
its songs of the mountains
and the sea and how the
soldiers and the sailors
are lost without their love.
I dream of mandolins and
the movement of clouds.
I dream of white villages
and genuine smiles. I feel
the distance between your
breath and mine. I continue
this search for authenticity,
I hear the fig tree whisper,
sleep now there is no need
to feel afraid …
Clay.M

I set out from Australia, just me and my backpack to walk the 28 day E4 across the spine of Crete, ( The Cretan Way) it was such a life changing experience, I ended up purchasing a small home on the breathtakingly beautiful and rugged island of Crete.

Continue reading...

Mar 30 · 118

Hope Sandoval

Clay Micallef Mar 30

Now that you have
disappeared into the
mist, now the distance
between us has become
severe, now the rain falls
on the old tin roof and the
light from the moon is honest.
Deep blue shadows swallow
the room as the warm breath
of Hope Sandoval whispers
so softly in my ears, I drift
away into a delicate world,
a world where my mind can
melt into a million lonely stars …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 27 · 107

The Praying Mantis

Clay Micallef Mar 27

The Praying Mantis

I walk upon the earth
I pretend that I own it,
I see an army of ants
attacking a Mantis,
I watch it accept defeat,
it is silent in its prayer,
it is crippled in its faith,
my empathy is tested,
I whisper to its god,
give it a quick death!
but its god does not listen
it is slow and torturous,
I hold my breath as the
Mantis weeps. I see the
last leaf fall from a
winter Wisteria it is
naked and boney, it has
become ugly
in its nature …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 27 · 91

I Guess I Miss You

Clay Micallef Mar 27

I Guess I Miss You

I happened to find myself
longing for some kind of
change, you were telling
me this in that little
cafe on the corner and
in that moment you left
you took away my breath
we were breathing
in the same air, now
it’s 2am and I’m drunk
again alone in this
two dollar room,
I open the widow and
look down at the street
and I try not to
think of you.
The neon signs flash
girls girls girls
as the radio plays
kind of blue,
the cigaret smoke
burns the back of
my throat as I
look down at the
holes in my shoes,
now I close all the blinds
and I turn off the lights
cause I don’t want to
face the day and
I, I won’t ignore
it’s true that I’m lost
and I know because
I’ve been here before,
and these days are
getting cold and if
the truth be told
I guess I miss you
I miss you …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 26 · 283

Slow Movement Of Clouds

Clay Micallef Mar 26

Slow Movement Of Clouds

I will sit here beneath
the warmth of the sun
I will listen to the slow
movement of clouds
I am comfortable in the
way that time always
leaves me behind
and when I grow old
I hope I grow into
some kind of stranger
in a sleepy village at the
foot of a white mountain
where I’ll write poetry
about wild birds and the way
love never promised to stay ...
Clay.M

Repost

Continue reading...

Mar 26 · 102

Now I Know Why Hemingway Wrote Standing Up

Clay Micallef Mar 26

Now I Know Why Hemingway Wrote Standing Up

If you want -
you can find them here
all those out of shape
poets and writers,
stooping to ungodly
behaviour, drinking
with demons, wrestling
with angels, scrounging
for words on broken tables
trying to make them fit,
words like - honesty - beauty,
- *** - hunger - words that hold
you for a while then let you
slip - unsatisfied. There is a
sickness in this line of work
an inexcusable existence,
a drowning madness,
a longing that leaves you
feeling unqualified. If you
want - you can find them
here, within these hours that
never sleep. Now I know
why Hemingway wrote
standing up …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 25 · 83

Magic Mountain

Clay Micallef Mar 25

Someday I will find
a magic mountain,
and I will stay with
one million moths
rebelling against the
light, my wanderlust
will be completely
satisfied, the nova will
sustain its sublime
intensity, I will walk
with my mind swirling
in majestic mystery,
every thought, every
action will be spontaneous!
and it will be absolutely
splendid in every category.
Someday I will find a
magic mountain, I will
drink wine with the gods
and we will smile for eternity …
Clay.M

I eventually found my magic mountain
in the village of Spili in Crete, I purchased a nice little house at the foot of Mount Vorizi.. Sometimes dreams do come true. 🌀

Continue reading...

Mar 25 · 75

Palermo

Clay Micallef Mar 25

Palermo

I was in a bar outside
the gates of Pompeii,
it was already morning
and as the curtains began
to close on the moon and
the stars were turning off
their lights, she lit a cigarette
and as the smoke swirled
in the sound of mysterious
jazz I thought of Vesuvius
looking over us like some
viscous god. And between
the reflection of midnight
drunkards and broken hearts,
I didn’t know if it was the way
she held her glass or the way
she put it to her lips that made
me think she knew something
about love that I did not. She
looked at me and said something
in Italian then she looked away
crossed her legs and lit another
cigarette, I guess she said
where are you going?
I whispered Palermo …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 24 · 112

Masturbation

Clay Micallef Mar 24

*******

She was a twenty something
art student with just enough
cleavage to allure my attention,
she spoke with an elegant whisper,
her hair resembled a roosters ****
although her red framed glasses
complimented the style brilliantly.
I have read all your poetry she said,
you are so openly honest about
prostitution, drunkards in ******
strip clubs, washed up poets in
drug infused jazz joints, the cruelty
of bull fighting and oh my god
*******!. You must be confusing
me with someone else I said. I went
back to my lonely room and wrote
this down …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 24 · 103

The Battle In Your Voice

Clay Micallef Mar 24

The Battle In Your Voice

Give me something
solid to lean upon,
a dream to unlock
a thousand variables,
let me hear the battle
in your voice, the
theatrical expression
of your vengefulness,
let me wash the war
paint from your
pure - white - skin,
let me read your
obscene letters of lust,
let me witness the
sacrifice of your touch,
let me feel the absence
of your love,
let me miss you,
let me leave it as it is
- unfinished …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 24 · 138

Where Madness Is Too Afraid To Follow

Clay Micallef Mar 24

Where Madness Is Too Afraid To Follow

In the glow of distant
lights, in the tangled
mess of all that is
unreachable, I listen
to the shooting stars
I am deafened by the
hum of sad melodies,
I see the half moon
swing in the shadow
of a broken heart, I will
go to places where drunk
poets are wrapped in smoke
and absurd isolation,
where women dance with
painted smiles and blue fire
and call it love, I will go to
places where silence fills
the air with beautiful stories,
I will go where madness
is too afraid to follow …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 23 · 88

Stories Of The Forrest

Clay Micallef Mar 23

Stories Of The Forrest

Somehow
the first sign of
daylight dissolved
my good intentions,
nothing at all seemed
to shine, every thought
was filtered through
dark water, the sun was
painted grey, my dreams
were cold as distant
mountains, I washed my
face in the silent river,
I ignored its imperfections
I ignored my own.
I listen to the stories
of the forest,
I walked away my sadness
in the rain …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 23 · 145

Slow Movement Of Time

Clay Micallef Mar 23

Slow Movement Of Time

Sometimes I keep
the curtains closed
I don’t want to see
the day or listen
to its violence,
I plant flowers in
dark corners,
I plant flowers where
the old ones have
passed sway,
I know there is a
reason for soft music,
I welcome the gentle
waves of consolation,
I hear poetry in the
slow movement of time …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 22 · 133

Dead Air Of Paris

Clay Micallef Mar 22

Dead Air Of Paris

I was on a train from
Paris to Amsterdam
and with an empty page
a sad smile and a pen
she was looking out
the window across
the apple green fields and
into the valleys of cobbled
villages and ****** churches
and as the dead air of Paris
was leaving my mind
I began to read the reflection
of questions in her eyes
I wanted to tell her what
she already knew
that the answers are in
the rhythm of the rails
and to only underline
the words that matter ...
Clay.M

Repost

Continue reading...

Mar 21 · 89

Can I Hold Your Attention?

Clay Micallef Mar 21

Can I Hold Your Attention?

Can I hold your
attention for no
longer than a minute,
can I feel the sharpness
of its edge the dizziness
of its centre, can I tell it
a little poem maybe try
and make it think, you
can have it back now,
it has become restless,
there is boredom in
its breath, I guess there
was a moment when I
thought it was my own …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 21 · 349

Cold Blue Mornings

Clay Micallef Mar 21

Cold Blue Mornings

I guess it’s the way
you look out of windows
on cold blue mornings
that leave me speechless,
the way you speak quietly
almost like a prayer,
your questions do not
require a single answer.
I am happy to remain
silent in my observations,
I am happy that nature is
the companion of intelligence,
I do not call society my friend,
I am the master of my own
bewilderment …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 21 · 100

The Traveler

Clay Micallef Mar 21

The Traveler

I have been around
long enough to know
that the world is unwell,
and in the shade of an
ugly grey I have seen
high buildings holding
the warmth of the sun,
I have seen birds
trying to be birds in the
middle of dead cities,
I have seen places
that have grown tired
of the sound of gunfire,
and as the playgrounds
remain silent within the
fields of sleeping rust,
I will listen to these
walls as they call me a
stranger, I will leave
with a hundred heavy
dreams in my cart,
I will search amongst
the ruined cities for
something good, I will
continue to wander …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 20 · 122

Simple Poetry

Clay Micallef Mar 20

Sometimes I sit
on this mountain
avoiding my reflection,
until my mind becomes
a mirror of memories,
I am close enough to
the sun to call her a friend.
Mixed emotions swirl
in the night sky as they
always have done,
at times the stars look sad
like distant cities and the
moon with its many faces
so desperately wanting
to be loved. I will stay here
until the angry wind blows
away these heavy clouds,
and my beard has grown
long and grey, I will walk
down this mountain wild eyed!
enlightened, insane!
like a bible story
like a wounded animal
washed clean - free of all sin,
ready to congregate again
in the warm embrace of
simple poetry …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 19 · 145

Wait For Morning

Clay Micallef Mar 19

Wait For Morning

Sometimes I sit and wait
for morning, maybe it will
be different this time,
maybe the sun will refuse to rise,
maybe if I fall asleep I will
miss the continual darkness,
maybe if I close my eyes
for just a moment
the world won’t seem so sad …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 19 · 83

A Quiet Room

Clay Micallef Mar 19

A Quiet Room

As I listen to the
symphony of sounds,
all the insects clicking
with the comfortable
passing of time,
all the birds singing
blissfully between their
heartbeat and mine,
the clouds don’t care
about the sun or moon,
they move across my
eyes like tired soldiers,
I see them all dressed in
white, I hear their widows
weeping through the
gentle breeze making
the leaves peacefully
quiver, I continue to
believe in the good
of mankind, I tell myself
all the answers hide
in the delicate corners
of a quiet room …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 18 · 125

The Things I Left Behind

Clay Micallef Mar 18

The Things I Left Behind

Give me back
all the things I
left behind
the friendships
I never formed
the hatred
the hunger
the love I threw
away blindly
the sleepless
lonely nights
tormented by
the fear of god
give me back all
the days I spent
dreaming in
restless desire
give me back
my strength
my birth
my mothers
warm smile …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 17 · 90

The Endless Road

Clay Micallef Mar 17

The Endless Road

When my mind starts
to wander and my eyes
refuse to blink, I travel
down the endless road
of a thousand dead poets,
I hold onto every blue note,
spilling ink across an indigo
sky, give me soft jazz that
complements the rain,
give me a conversation with
beauty that makes me blush.
Maybe we should just leave
she said, drive for miles into
the heart of the bleeding sun,
throw our dead love into the
defeated sea, get tattooed by
insane gypsies with missing teeth!
sleep beneath the shooting stars
to the sound of vicious violins!
we can change our names to
something unpronounceable,
become spontaneous,
become obsolete …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 16 · 148

The Weeping Of Swans

Clay Micallef Mar 16

The Weeping Of Swans

I understand
the language
of sad mornings
I understand the
turning wheels
of cruel madness
I understand
because I have
learnt from the
poets the teachers
of sorrowful things
and through this
thin grey light
I can see the
ghost of her
flying like a
painted bird
I rest amongst the
scattered leaves
I listen to the
weeping of swans …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 16 · 90

My Closest Friend

Clay Micallef Mar 16

My Closest Friend

Some days
I stare at the sun
I study its minor
imperfections
I see the beauty
of its scars
I feel the depth
of its existence
some days
I like being sad
I paint my heart
in the darkest blue
I welcome sorrow
I hold it in my chest
like a deep breath
like imperfect poetry
I find a quiet place
far away from the
heavy machinery
and the screech
of grinding wheels
I embrace isolation
I choose to call her
my closest friend …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 15 · 299

A Day In The Woods

Clay Micallef Mar 15

A Day In The Woods

I don't need
friendship
endless drama
love or laughter
I listen to the
spontaneity
of the wind
I study the
poetry of
dead trees
I begin to
understand
the adventure
of wild birds ...
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 15 · 360

Grief

Clay Micallef Mar 15

Grief

There is something
in the early morning air
that fills my lungs with
a familiar loneliness
as the dull pain
behind my eyes
makes the stars
look like tiny tears
as the moon shakes
the nightmares from
its restless mind
I close the book
on yesterday
I wrestle with
this pen and paper
as the background
radio preachers
love and forgiveness
there is a moment
when the eyes close
and the mind opens up
there is a moment when
I see her smile I almost
feel her embrace
within a second
she is gone …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 14 · 757

In This Dream

Clay Micallef Mar 14

The sky is a stormy
kind of strange indigo
daffodils are reaching
out for attention
the mountains
crumble with a
matter of urgency
my dreams are a
puddle of mud and
sullen reflection
tears spill into an open
field of wild orchids
the gods are drunk
with the thunder
of excitement
I drift in and out of
dark dreaming I am
just a passenger in this
strange and awful place
sometimes when the
lights are low I often
wonder why do colours
fade away when you
need them the most …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 12 · 586

Language Of The Sea

Clay Micallef Mar 12

Language Of The Sea

I listen to the
language of the sea
I break down with the
orchestra of waves
there is a storm within
this heart
a kingdom of sand
within these hands
I do not belong here
with the seabirds
and the sailors
I do not belong here
with this congregation
of stones
let it rain I have my
raincoat and my gloves
let it rain I have come
prepared for the storm …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 12 · 86

The Lemon Field

Clay Micallef Mar 12

The Lemon Field

I step outside
to greet the day
my arms stretched out
across a lemon field
I breathe the spring
air into my lungs
filling up and letting go
I listen to the
symphony of birds
I watch the butterfly’s
dance with the dandelions
as my eyes blink in the
yellow light
I keep my precious things
caged within my chest
as my mind becomes clear
and the wind has grown tired
I am without prejudice
my arms are free to move
my legs are able to run
I catch my breath
I chase these words
I call it poetry
it is here that I write
it is here that I am
immune to the
sickness of the world …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 9 · 113

Johnny Hartman

Clay Micallef Mar 9

I’m in a late night bar
in the big city
only the sound of
Johnny Hartman on
a background radio
and thoughts of her
keep me here
through a subtle hint
of pure blue I can
almost feel the
distant neon glow
the shadows dance
across the room like
black angels the wind
whispers through an
open widow like a
ghostly stranger
the features of her face
are captured within
the silhouette of
a perfect grey
the twisting smoke
curls from her fingers
from her lips drift
a thousand sorrows
she walks past me
with tremendous style
she walks past me
close enough to touch …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 7 · 156

Lifeless Star

Clay Micallef Mar 7

Now the day is gone
and all I did was dream
I listened to the sound
of the day that awful ring
that calling that dreadful
pushing and pulling
inside my dreamy mind
and this body doesn’t
want to move
I think it’s depressed
or something far worse
I saw my reflection
in shallow water
that cruel shave
of pointlessness
I heard a knock at
the door and I know it
wasn’t you
because you are gone
like this day is gone
I wrote a poem today
but it had no spark
it was dull like a
lifeless star
and you know
it was this one …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 7 · 121

A Winters Night To Remember

Clay Micallef Mar 7

A Winters Night To Remember

Snow is falling
window cold
to the touch

She is half my age
wearing nothing
but a crimson ribbon

Her foreign tongue
cartwheels between
broken English
and an old gypsy song

Her skin shines
like silk
by the fire light

She stands
hands pressed
against the glass

Eating chocolate
from an unpronounceable
Swedish village

I bath within
her beauty
especially
from behind …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 6 · 117

White Mountains Crete (Lefka Ori)

Clay Micallef Mar 6

White Mountains Crete (Lefka Ori)

I will meet you
where the sunlight
sleeps upon the
white mountains
where the birds
circle the sky like
angels of innocence
and as you pass
through stubborn
villages that keep
ancient secrets
locked in their hearts
listen carefully to the
echo of their poetry
all will become clear
and our destination
will be necessary
we will find the moon
hiding behind clouds
like a shy child
and as the cold wind
bites at our lips
our words will
fall into purity ...
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 6 · 179

Poetry Of Waves (part 2)

Clay Micallef Mar 6

Poetry Of Waves (part 2)

When my thoughts
fall like heavy rain upon
the blue birds tired wings
and the ice cracks into
countless splinters upon
the quiet pool of simplicity
I hear the angels weep
like distressed children
I see tall buildings sway
with the weight of whispering
I gather my temporary things
my breath my life
my pen and paper
I make my way to the
pure white sands of forgiveness
looking out across the
endless mad ocean
I pretend to be a writer
I cannot compete with
the poetry of waves …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 6 · 96

Within This Dream

Clay Micallef Mar 6

Within This Dream

I feel safe here
above the clouds
with my small collection
of shimmering stars
all the ghosts
look like angels
they tell me the
****** details of their
forbidden lust and
how they float just
above the violent sea to
feel the torture of its touch
I am happy in this space
with my poetry and my
confused desire
by your silence
I know that you are near …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 5 · 182

Anogia Crete

Clay Micallef Mar 5

Anogia Crete

There is a gentle breeze
that whispers through
an open window
it carries poetry from
the high mountains
poetry from the
shepherds lonely nights
it is here where the
isolation is at its sweetest
but when you hear
music and laughter
in the company of
fierce clapping hands
down to the village
you must go …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 5 · 110

Company Of Nature

Clay Micallef Mar 5

Company Of Nature

Before the sun rises
I will step outside to
drink my tea with the
jasmine and the rose
I will listen to the moon
tell its stories of
far away cities
and how it looks more
beautiful in the desert
I will reconstruct this
collision of thoughts
into something that
resembles poetry
I will conclude with
a sigh and a whisper
I am nothing but dust
in the company of nature …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 4 · 297

Midlife In A Small Town

Clay Micallef Mar 4

Midlife In A Small Town

I have seen grown
men throwing stones
into still rivers
rivers that are
tired of running
they watch small birds
feast on smaller
living things
they breath out a
steady stream of
blue sadness
they sit in cars
reading Kerouac
looking up at
long naked legs
they have outlived
their fathers
idea of youth
they have played
the puzzle of
insolvable love
they are lost in
quiet rooms
they ask her
politely to leave
they wait for the
dust to settle …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 3 · 177

The Jazz Club

Clay Micallef Mar 3

I saw her again today
in that old jazz club
on the corner
the sun was spilling
in like honey
her legs crossed within
the golden light
her scarf was like a
lonely flower blooming
red in a graveyard
she was writing a letter
or a poem or just
playing around
with words
she was sipping
white wine
her smile was
hidden like a secret
she tied back her hair
her eyes caught me staring
they were beautifully sad
overflowing with a
thousand questions
I stood there
too dumb to answer …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 3 · 160

The Poem

Clay Micallef Mar 3

The Poem

The poem
yes the poem
it is a
fragile thing
it can lose your
attention
it can lose
its rhythm
Its beat
it can lose
its way
in the art of
simplicity …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 2 · 106

Midnight Trees

Clay Micallef Mar 2

I step outside
I stand beneath
the cold blue stars
I listen to my
own heart beating
I feel it pound the
breath of my love
the night air brings
a familiar sting
there are no corners
in this sacred space
I study the movement
of anxious leaves
as they desperately
hold on to the
midnight trees
they allow me to
believe in this solitude
like it’s some kind of truth
something spiritual
something intangible
as the sleeping flowers
lean towards tomorrow
as the waves of emotion
recede into the shadows
sorrow is no longer
a stranger …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Mar 1 · 146

The Invitation (part 2)

Clay Micallef Mar 1

The Invitation (part 2)

I have my books my records
my half written poems
I have this blue window
to look through when
I’m lonely
from this place I can see
the sun smiling
I know it will rise and fall
religiously so I ignore
its invitation
maybe I’ll feel better
in a new morning
less wounded less detached
less strange
maybe this battle in my voice
will fade into a soft belief
I search for words that will
hold you for a while
then let you slip
words like truth
like love
like the breath of a
thousand stories
like any other
untouchable thing …
Clay.M

Continue reading...

Feb 28 · 323

I Know A Place

Clay Micallef Feb 28

Watching the sun
cut into a new day
everything drenched
in pale colours
clouds move with
the dead of grey
I know a place
where a velvet moon
is thrown across the
soothing sea
where the spring
mornings are endless
where there are more
flowers than tall buildings
where the ocean breeze
blows salt on our skin
where the lavender
dances with the wind
we can dream forever
escape this ordinary life
I know a place …
Clay.M

Continue reading...