"willesden" poems
Threatened curiosity rhymes better than I
A panic attack infused with sinusitis
Willesden digs clang its tentacles
into blobbed concrete.
Cringing as I walked by
Anita scrawled her unsavoury - mercy.
She could not endure a Son of a Publican
on a weekend jolt,
a hand washed duvet potested,
pitch and putt compressed
too many red lines crossed.
Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 6:00 PM UTC
I kneel to genuflect
which I suspect
is a waste of time
I take the time anyway
to kneel and pray
thinking,
It's no use closing a door
I genuflect some more
and then I'm done.
If a God exists other than on Olympus
willing to protect us
able to contact us
I'd like to meet him or her or it and sit and chat a bit about things.
Thoughts random;
If a bird sings in the Amazon
does a glass menagerie shatter in Willesden?
Someone held me close through the endless day, the weeping night
it might have been God.
In time I'll know, but there's a nagging in my heart, a suggestion that the knowing's just the start of it
I think I'd like to sit a bit and chat with God a bit
about things.
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
Willesden - from a cab -
is vein-blue at four-o-two
transfusion complete
Oct 3, 2015
Oct 3, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC