Poetry Blogs (Beginning)

Time...

Who are you?

and where are you going?

What is your purpose? 

Are you all knowing?

Always here, always near,

every breath I shared with you.

I spent my life right by your side, 

and still I do not know you.

Time, are you just a 

fragment of my mind?

Something we made up 

because our senses make us blind?

Can we not comprehend 

the whole eternity?

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kiss me on the mouth

let me be; set me free

to be trapped against you

pain I wish nothing on

to wrap arms you know

i can not deny

when to hold her brings joy

let me know

let me be; set me free

wish against me not away

to understand nothing is a void

unhappiness be where you know not

do not fight, my love

endings to soon to show

but listen to direction and ...

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We enter this world on days when life is slightly kinder

Pushed by our family in our pushchair, 

we are content.

As we've grown, we are given happiness as a gift

but

also

We are given happiness with gifts, 

the sweetness of our mother's kiss, 

the softness of a kitten

We were unaware of the concept of age

We gave love willingly, 

our first kiss being messy and conf...

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Janus

When we were young

we raged against the storm

biting at our hormones,

engulfing our senses

and our sensibilities.

The deep penetrating

oxblood on our

Doctor Martin boots

polished

to an indignant sheen.

Pre-conditioner hair,

split ends and acne,

Shredded Wheat moustache.

A groove worn on the chin

by pondering fingers.

Myopic ...

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In the beginning he would wake at every peculiar sound that came from the babies crib 

In the beginning he would bring me a beverage as I fed his son whilst the moon was dimly lit 

In the beginning he would rush home from work eager to see the family he created 

In the beginning we were the people whom he could be himself and escape with 

In the beginning we were enough 

He wou...

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~~In The Beginning

leaving marks
that’s all we’re doing
leaving marks

daubed on cave walls
scratched on parchment
prodded into submission
on a plastic keyboard

blood ink
drying
becoming permanent

or
crossed through
with a graphite swipe
erased by rubber
white paint
lost

ideas and musings
bold statements
of intent
waxing lyrical
outpourings
of joy
of hate
of love
...

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