Poetry Blogs (Question)
Some fairy tale figure
made in my heart
Or do you breathe
do you have lungs
that suck in the air
and a heart pumping blood
through your veins
If I catch you
in the end
will I feel
soft warm skin
in my hands
Or a cloud of smoke
through my fingers
Tuesday 21st April 2020 8:23 pm
If dolphins could talk
What would they say?
What would they say
About the "games" that men play?
Tuesday 24th October 2017 12:30 am
I am noise and thought,
I am not who I ought.
I am freedom,
I am fight,
I am the smallest glimpse of starlight,
In the deepest, darkest, stormy night.
Because of fear,
In spite of fear,
The death of hate and ignorance,
Is what keeps me alive.
I speak for the minority,
A voice for words feared spoken.
With ink and web,
My words are spread,
And your weak bullets are broken.
Monday 12th January 2015 3:58 pm
Robert you have
you have so secretly
become the ghostly brother of mine
that i did not know i had.
In the picture i have
that mother gave to me
you lie in the bottom left corner
on a wooden bench
barely being able to consider
that a be lovable soul was once even there
by its faded colors it express
And sometimes when I try to recapture
at least one memory I might have of you,
Wednesday 22nd October 2014 2:19 am
(I'm aware this is a controversial poem and I hope not to offend anyone but I make no conclusions, I only ask questions)
The nature was deteriorating.
The sky was falling down,
raining pieces of ashy soot,
crashing and burning
and you weren't there.
Why weren't you there?
The birds squawked and screeched
and in-between their cries were mine, calling
and I was reaching out to you.
Sunday 31st August 2014 8:34 pm
No home, no job, just 12 good friends.
Betrayed by one who swore they never would.
Died too soon for pointless reasons.
What if God the NHS was one of us?
Sunday 7th April 2013 4:13 pm
Ripples in the water. Forever bouncing. The transformation from Sea to Land. The water. a Constant Surge. Pulsating Tides. those Building Blocks. Keeping a foundation grounded. The motive behind the pen.
Are we all just words in a pictionary born again to have meaning? The reality I belong to ...
Monday 25th March 2013 5:06 am