Poetry Blogs (years)

Where did the years go? Spent

Swimming through life like a dolphin? No

Spearing like a guillemot into the sea? No

Perhaps basking in shallows like a shark? No

Or flashing in the sun a la flying fish? No

So where did they go?

They got sucked like flotsam into a whirlpool

While I tried to keep my head above water

Read and leave comments (0)

Those shadows the epitome of time

let me bruise them so they cannot move,

make those pale moments clearer

in the light of the hurt-

a life no longer drenched

in shapes eclipsing the stopwatch,

now I can pause time when I want to

escaping the minutes for hours,

see the clouds in still shift,

alluding to an illusion

of some fading minute,

the hands of the clock skim ...

Read and leave comments (1)

Those dulcet shadows

chased my figure,

dancing. a motif,

that refrained

to end of those pages,

a requiem of endless sobriety

to those euphoric seconds

lost to me.  

Read and leave comments (2)

Moulded leather feet

marital as those laces unending

began to weave, dictating the vows

in material, aesthetically strung

beside my fingers,

the draping knot tripped

below my tough coat,

falling towards pavement,

unconscious and disregarding,

tiptoeing back to the perceived years

that are mine.

Read and leave comments (2)

You're Welcome

Lovely smiles at early morning, 
Poetic voice says: “Hello” 
Shiny eyes yearning look.
 Asking happily “How are you?” 

When did we met and where! 
Few years ago, may be more 
It was crowded party there 
When she shines out of the door 

We had a table, but no talk 
Merrily smile, she looks shy 
Asked timidly can we walk? 
I shook hands, then walk...

Read and leave comments (0)

It is so many years

since I felt some part of me wane:

all those thousands of days

since we spoke of nothing -

could find no words;

and even many more

since there were whispers

as we lay naked in the night

or in the cottage garden

beneath the harvest sun

It is so many years

that I have known that dark void:

deep within my very soul

and in all those long ...

Read and leave comments (0)

Adopt

Saint Stephen's tale

It's Friday, sweets from Mrs Smith

Degeneration X and anarchy

Frankie's words: two tables, four chairs, suspension.

Discovered passing the buck, and thus passed it.

Stole the show with Twenty-one Questions, four dancers, and a singer.

First girlfriend changed everything, "You're young, she has baggage - get rid..." … did...

A place...

Read and leave comments (0)