"rjvhorton" poems
The Performance
The curtain rises,
Swishing its many disguises,
Every face ever worn
Ever since you were born.
When audience's show
They sit down, stand up and go,
In and out of your life
Like your mother and wife.
The music is strange
Like your costume change,
One minute a rhapsody,
The next a parody.
I wish I could pretend
The dream could never end
But the boards you tread
Are only in my head.
A little more make-up perhaps
To hide the missed lines and gaps,
Such swagger and finesse
In your childhood sequined dress.
To whom are you playing?
The crowds that are beying?
Ignore them, my dear,
Dying is only a fear.
Critics can be cruel
To such a pretentious fool,
I can't always be my best
When sincere and undressed.
They'll never know
That you've fallen or how low,
Just be what you want to be
Because I know you are me.
The curtains shut,
The audience tut tut...
"Overacting!" they shout
As we try to get out,
But hey! I'll dream some more,
Life or death for the encore?
Artists don't have to conform,
But please heart......just perform.
© RJVHorton 2015
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
Albatross
Nervous sun
in random glows,
Dappled yellows
flickering,
Night or day,
no-one knows
Why the land and sea
are bickering.
Sail, the ships
of olden days
On the naïve eyes
of a child,
Sunsets setting
skies ablaze
Behind nimbus
running wild.
Balmy southern
ocean breeze
On islands
wet and warm,
Blowing
unsuspecting trees
Into the eye
of a passing storm.
Raising, surging
waters spill
Like tides tethered
to living rain,
Extinguishing
the sun at will,
The unhindered
hurricane,
Sweeping people
off the shores,
Condemning them
To the sea,
While an albatross
above them soars,
Wandering, waving
Nonchalantly.
© RJVHorton 2015
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
Clever Fool
Sit, you lad, upon a gate
Imagine it's a mule,
Faster faster, ride it straight
Oh, you clever fool.
If only you had a watch
You could ignore the setting sun,
As your sister plays hop-scotch
In a time when childhood was fun.
Time, when the world was more
Than the dreams you mistook,
When everything was to explore,
Not just pictures in a book.
I am sorry sweet child,
The mule is limping lame,
Nothing short of being wild
Can play a part in your game.
Sit, you lad, upon my gate,
I wish I could swing by your side,
But, my son, it is now too late
To love you now I've died.
Poor old man, tired in your bed
Dreaming of a life so cruel,
But you play as a child instead,
Oh, you clever fool.
© RJVHorton 2015
Jun 27, 2015
Jun 27, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
Broken Wing
Creature
black,
feathered kind,
stealthy,
deft,
on ledge did find,
hid in fear
behind broken wing
he did not fly
nor song did sing,
window,
sashed,
did open wide,
blackbird trembling,
brought inside,
wing did strap
with stick and lint,
that brought to eye
a grateful glint.
on wrist did sit,
tipped back head,
on bread and milk
with finger fed,
for many days
did tend him well
until he told me
how he fell,
did trap himself
in poachers snare,
meant for rabbit,
meant for hare,
his life to end
was soon to be
so broke own wing
to set self free,
in panic flew,
so high,
so fast,
did crash into
invisible glass,
could not sing
nor fly again,
did think to die
on window pane.
To blackbird said
" we built a city,
for those who fly
and crawl, no pity,
with traps and glass,
bombs and guns
to break the wings
of our little ones"
his head did drop
to cry in sadness,
to live and die
at the whim of madness,
then sat on sill
to grieve the view,
did close the window
and away he flew.
© RJVHorton
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 12:00 AM UTC
The End Is Nigh
Of life, I am
a foolish child
With scythes
and pretty things,
Out there, somewhere,
running wild
Adorned in
angels wings,
Naïvely cutting
down my peers
Before they have a
chance to grow,
Dressing them
in my favourite fears
And an unstable
status quo.
Superficial hugs
and kisses
Ensure that
I survive,
Despite you all
and near misses
Perchance
I am still alive.
Of death, l am
a wise old fool
With poems
and sound advice,
In there, somewhere,
losing my cool,
Stripped down
to things not nice,
Mocking dreams
and lifelong friends
Before they get
too real,
But it's too late
to make amends
Or change
the way I feel,
I need the love
I once denied
And still,
I don't know why,
I only know
the voices inside
Are telling me
the end is nigh.
© RJVHorton 2015
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 8:15 AM UTC
All I Own
All I own, these words, but few,
Often not, yet meant to be true,
To speak, to write, but not in vain,
I utter in silence upon my pain.
My love, my friend, my nemesis,
With all I own, this is all there is,
A poem, written, but not in ink,
Words of love, to dream, to think.
I am but shy, yet in spirit, bold
All I own, is this heart, untold,
Whisper, shall I, in your ear?
And you can know of what I hear.
These, the words, yet unspoken,
My love, my heart is surely broken,
A love poem, I have yet to write,
Is all I own of one passionate night.
© RJVHorton 2015
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 3:41 AM UTC
And You, My Dear, Will Fade
Ah, there you are,
How radiant you appear,
Lovers seem to be distant
As sycophants stand too near,
And you glide, as if on air,
I breathe your every move,
Omnipresent yet undefined
With simply nothing to prove.
Surely time will spoil you,
Painted smiles will decieve
The joker and the mourner
Who'll find the time to grieve.
And you, my dear, will fade
Just as your lacklustre pearls,
Tarnished by pretentious tears
Cried by all pretentious girls.
Ah, there you are,
I knew you wouldn't be far,
Delving into the dark corners
Looking for who you are,
Consuming your murky past
Like a wild ravenous flame,
Frantically erasing the faces
Of all the people you blame.
Surely they are long gone,
You're on your own from here,
Best if you don't meddle
In things that cause you fear,
And you, my dear, will fade
Like so many dreams before,
Of actually being able to love
The son you were meant to adore.
Ah, there you go
Reflecting on your sanity,
Mirrors telling their stories
Of beauty versus vanity,
Distorting sad expressions
So you always look your best
As you clutch a stillborn baby
Tight to your heaving breast.
I was suckled and then crushed
By the mother I'll never know,
Even though the wounds have healed
The scars will always show,
And you, my dear, will fade
Just as as you start to feel
And I, my dear, would love you
If only you were real.
© RJVHorton 2015
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 3:39 AM UTC