Poetry Blogs (colour)
My head is full of numbers,
my heart is full of dread
if I go from black to blue
all the rhymes
will come out new.
Red bleeds to yellow
and all the numbers are blue
the three comes in threes and
makes the nine incomplete and
the moon tells the secrets
I'm not meant to keep
it's a message of the future
and the past complete.
A half yellow star sharp
pierces my art.
Thursday 21st September 2017 5:39 pm
Lost in the summer haze
still filtering out those greys,
still absent in waste,
vacant in change
rearranging my stain
an inherent pain
My bones leak into my soul,
the mud absorbs everything
but the flow
and the black fog
still follows me home.
The desert can be bleak
especially when the colour
and the sand...
Monday 19th June 2017 3:00 pm
Your skin like the yellow brick road,
and what is it that creates that rush of blush?
I’d love to shovel out your flesh or drill through your cheeks
to reach those autumn leaves,
that grow behind the golden weeds,
the red leaves that were never green.
No, never new, they never grew,
they stayed and they remained:
Dying, but never dead,
thriving, behind your face of ...
Friday 31st March 2017 3:47 pm
This poem, from many years ago, is a fantasy about the liminal stage of a rite of passage. Looking back, I can see Celtic sensibility here that I was previously unaware of.
A Man I Know
A man I know stood beside me.
Looking up at paradise birds
he reflected their colours
with steel eyes in blinding
he began to speak:
Friday 10th February 2017 12:25 pm
Damp and beautiful,
bubbles, rings rippling in the deep, waters deep.
Damp light, patches of pink, yellow and blue,
moving along the rain soaked path.
Umbrellas bobbing, dogs snuffling amongst the leaves, sniffing.
The smell of damp, dirt and soft wood drifting through the air.
Colour, damp and beautiful in the light.
Berries glow, jewels amongst the leaves.
Flowers strewn ...
Tuesday 22nd December 2015 8:19 pm
One for performing mainly, but I think it stands up alone. Part of a series.
It’s Pokémon, pimples and boils.
Being a teenager—including the sores.
It’s Spiderman, Daredevil, Rudolph and GORE
the colour of darkness when your head hits the floor.
ell-ee-dees and infra-red receptors on TVs.
It’s blame and physics watching stars burn
it’s the colour of c...
Tuesday 1st June 2010 2:15 pm