Poetry Blogs (Jul 2011, Love)

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Delicate

 

On a bit of a writing spree at the moment...


Usually not a good sign...

 

 

 

Delicate


Maybe quiet times,

Holding tight, a lost 

Limb in paradox.


Floating, timid touching

And left over bone

On bone.


All quivers, left

To the elements

And empty.


We talk about

Ourselves in the 

Third person,


...

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heartsloveparadoxpoempoetryquietromanticsleep

Storm Theory

                                                 Storm Theory

 

 

     It’s about sensing what’s genuine ole Man!

You know I believe in you as the relationship is

So intense,

     But why play the game with me?

 

     Take the red pill or take the blue pill,

That’s the choice we’re told,

But as little as I was,

The red and blue were thrust upon me

...

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love

Bedtime

 

Bedtime


Those days we wished

We hadn’t woken up,

Propped up with pillows

Perhaps, with our legs

Curled around the covers.


Arms folded appropriately

Around ourselves, holding

Chests in, pulling the guts

Spilling across the bed

Back into ourselves.


We talk then don’t talk,

And a quiet shudder or two

In the gutter was the onl...

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bedtimehaydenloveregretromanceshamesorrow

Cutt and Pastels

Another draft, for your enjoyment...


Cutt and Pastels

 
Shifting through blues,
Sniffing at the cocaine
Resting on your shoulders
After another mile trawl
Through traffic.
 
More tassels than talent
A the knock-me-down
Cabaret, swilling glasses
Like tomorrow was
Just another Sunday,
 
Clearing up was a matter
Of four walls, ec...

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1950'sdeathhaydenlifelovemenpastewomen

Scarlet Ribbons

entry picture

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She said that I looked Irish, as we sat and warmed our hands

Beating djembe herding us to sway and stamp and clap

 

 

I looked across and through the flames

That sighed and licked up over logs

Into her eyes, in all their eyes

The light: not fading, changed

 

Scarlet ribbons curling around

Stripes of orange a...

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drumsfestivalfirelovepeace

I Am Woman

entry picture

                                                 For I Am Woman

 

 

          It’s not I be the narcissi

I sometimes see,

It’s not the sultry look

Of woman gazing on in disbelief,

It is not cold,

But worry of - Mother to be.

 

            I am with child!

My ‘first,’

And my state of being reflected

In this mirror surrounds my every

Thought...

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lovepregnancy

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