Poetry Blogs (bed)
Things had stalled then tapered off
For Bill and Gwen had reached the stage
Where sex is what other people do
When love has turned its final page
Salad days gone and keen to downsize
They found a bungalow, cheap they said,
It had leaky flashing and woodworm
Above all, a full-length gilt mirror over the bed
That first night under a wrinkled reflection
As the pai...
Sunday 19th July 2020 11:45 am
Love's remembrances can be painful
Lurking like snakes in your head
I find memories of our finest hour
Amid itchy reminders in our bed
The crumbs in my bed remind me of you
The way you brushed your hair for hours
How you sat on the duvet nibbling cinammon toast
Or sniffing posies of hothouse flowers
I still can't work out why you left me
The truth is I'm more t...
Thursday 23rd April 2020 12:18 pm
You have fallen asleep with the radio on.
Electromagnetic waves push inanities
into air that should at this time be only for breathing.
I lie and wait for the dull click
that will bring silence billowing down
onto your slumber and my wakefulness
knowing that the same sound, too soon
will tear me from the sleep
I should have accepted I needed
Tuesday 11th September 2018 8:28 pm
I stretch some more
sprawling over my bed
caressing the cold sheets beside me
A weight sits on my chest.
The pang of my solitude,
visiting me in the silent hours of the morning
I bring your blanket closer to my chest,
Sucking in your smell,
Breathing the pores of you.
It’s started to fade now.
The staleness and the dust has set in.
Sunday 12th November 2017 10:42 pm
Softness envelopes you like a warm cloud
Sensuous touch brings us closer than skin
Time stops for almost endless moments as
We fly higher than the moon in the morning.
We are always good together methinks and
"Nothing can do us any harm"- like that song
We made out to from the White Album many
Years ago when you were just as beautiful
As you are tod...
Tuesday 12th November 2013 1:53 pm
I dismantled my bed,
Couldn’t sleep on the lies,
The springs cut my honest back,
You can sleep on the floor, you utter whore.
You made me out to be a twat,
You, you, you, fucking you,
What about me ay?
I have to sleep here.
Tuesday 3rd January 2012 11:57 am
Once-upon-a-time, a barman worshipped the Sun.
Worked nights so didn’t see much of it
but in his head he’d got stories of
the Fire God supreme,
vanquishing monsters who'd eat out your dreams.
He called the Sun ‘Hero’,
believed it had six pairs of arms,
giant wings of flame
and the handsomest nose in the galaxy.
Made moons blush
Friday 17th December 2010 1:38 pm