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...

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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...

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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

much earlier.

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I stretch

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.

Time ...

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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...

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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.

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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,

Blaze Lord,

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

and g...

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