"jez" poems
We came upon slowing traffic.
Inside the bus
Standing passengers were thrown
and grips tightened
as we edged forward across
the unfinished road.
We passed the sun-glassed
occupants of cars and busses
and the rolled-up sleeves
of lorry drivers who's
tanned arms hung out
of every window, and
who's fingers tapped
an unheard tune.
I stooped to stare at the
dancing distance of
the baked tarmacked
highway.
Our eyes stung and wet
The metalled road blazed.
Our approaching gaze silent.
Gripped passports Identity papers
rosary- beads
-Letters of transit -
not needed;
The border did what most
borders do-
and shrugged us through.
Laughter becomes all languages.
Later that afternoon,
I sipped from the glass I held.
Jez turned to me and asked,
"Is this what it's like to be drunk?"
I smiled as I slid my wine towards her...
...
words and foto T Carroll..
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
and that shadow passes
like shadows do
and i drift awake to find your smile waiting for me
grab up whats left of our castle of sand
and explode onto the road
cause tomorrow never shines as bright
as that special yesterday
like a penny that gets tossed
like a shinny piece of rain
it just keeps fallin and flying
keeps the heart going
and your smile is all i really need
don't know where we going but we going in style
you wrapped in your Tye-dye blanket
and me in
my Walt Whitman hat
we gonna dance on distant beaches
we gonna tickle eachother on far off mountain tops
we gonna cheer the world on
from our armchairs
and smile for all the beautiful things we can find
cause shadows always come to an end
and that shadow has nearly passed us by
so lets grab up our bits and pieces
and see where that road takes us
see who we can find
baby lets dance on distant beaches
tickle each-other on far away mountaintops
and sleep in the forgiving arms of foreign lush forest
there is some nineteen twenty's blues
playin far too loud on the turntable
and there in the distance
a train horn lends itself to the moment
i run off a few lines
that are just as empty
looks like heaven
but its not
the world is no different
here than it is in your silent room
i would give anything to be there
in your room
perhaps we could talk till dawn
bout George Sanders
Charles Butterworth
and all the big ones
pills
he shot himself
pills
car accident
pills
jez left this morning
she said she needed some time
that relationships are too complex
and she needs to think
and didn't like the idea that
i don't want to marry her
i think
i just no longer have enough faith
that she or anyone could stay
not trade me in for a needle full of drugs
not trade me in for something faster newer
a better model
there is no magic left
i can still dance on the sand till the tide comes in
but there's no magic
shopping carts chase
but its just a lone set of strings
played slow
and deep
like tears
there is some nineteen twenty's blues
playing far too loud on the turntable
but even the five bottles of wine
haven't set the past out to sea
think i should go now
before i say something foolish
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 5:24 PM UTC
She’ll put a spell on you
She’ll make you lose your mind
And everything you do
Will be to please her kind
And when the demons crawl
Out of them earthly cracks
That’s when you’ll hit the wall
There’ll be no turning back
And yet the passion in the hatred makes the whole affair even hotter
But that’s what you get when you dance with the devil’s daughter
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
*In Algiers I held a glass
that held a face's
stare
In the glass the face
that stared
stared back at me
in fear.*
We came upon slowing traffic.
Inside the war-torn bus the
standing passengers were gently
rocked as we drove along
the unfinished road.
Unfinished roads:
you became convinced
that each rock and pothole
was placed carefully in order
to discomfit passengers,
to remind them of
their poverty
or the slumming middle-class
of the acre sized swimming
pool that awaits.
We passed the sun-glassed
occupants of cars and busses
and the rolled-up sleeves
of lorry drivers.
Tanned arms hung out
of windows;
fingers tapping
an unheard beat.
I stooped to stare at the
dancing distance of heat
waves rising from
the baked highway.
Asphalt arteries.
People gripped passports,
identity papers,
rosary- beads
- Letters of transit -
they were not needed;
the border did what most
borders do-
it shrugged us through.
Smiles become all languages.
Later
I sat staring out
the window of a bar.
Hardly blinking.
A bus stopped and
people got off.
A dog scratched.
The sky was blue and cloudless.
I lifted a cold drink.
Watching.
Then Jez turned to me
and asked,
"Is this what it's like
to be drunk?"
I smiled as I slid my wine
towards her...
words T Carroll
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 9:12 AM UTC
*In the mirror I held a face
that held a face's stare,
In that mirror
the face that stared
stared back at me in fear...*
They came upon slowing traffic.
Inside a war-torn bus
standing passengers were gently rocked.
They were driven along an unfinished road.
Unfinished roads are were you
become convinced
that each rock and pothole
were placed carefully in order
to discomfit the passengers,
to remind them of their poverty.
They passed the sun-glassed occupants
of cars and busses
and the rolled-up sleeves of lorry drivers.
Tanned arms hung out of windows;
fingers tapping an unheard beat.
The foot-worn passengers
clutching the free tickets to
a roll-call of loss and desperation,
"roll-up".
Walking- just.
They stooped to stare at the dancing distance
of heat waves rising from
the baked highway.
Asphalt arteries.
They gripped passports,
Identity papers, rosary- beads
'Letters of transit'
but they were not needed;
the border did what most borders do-
it shrugged them through.
Smiles become all languages.
Later, I sat staring out the window of a bar-
hardly blinking.
A bus stopped and people got off.
Laughter.
A dog scratched.
The sky was blue and cloudless.
The poor -the confused and naked poor-
had gone where the confused and naked go-
somewhere else.
I lifted a cold drink.
Watching.
Then Jez turned to me and asked:
"Is this what it's like to be drunk?"
I smiled as I slid a bottled lager towards her.
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC