Poetry Blogs (2011, romance)
Knots
Knots
We have to think
about where to put
our hands.
They fumble under tables,
or rest very casually on
the table, courageously spread
across the middle as if to show
just how normal you
want it to feel.
The tea is greasy,
and you concentrate
on stroking the condensation
from your glass
of orange juice.
The cur...
Sunday 6th November 2011 12:52 pm
White Band
I wear it on my arm as a symbol of our love,
I admired it and you gave away a part of you to me.
Your style, your flair, your elegance
bounces against veins pumping blood to my metaphorical heart, always.
A symbol of healing, of patching things up...
a bandaid of the heart, the soul...
...of us.
I will be your white band,
I will soak away all that pain, that hurt, that angu...
Saturday 15th October 2011 11:47 pm
True Love Starts...
Sunday 9th October 2011 10:44 pm
DARK TOWER poem
THE DARK TOWER
On the barren northern moors
lies a dark lonely tower.
No one ever goes there,
not a bird sings or a rabbit jumps.
This is the place of loneliness
and of despair and foreboding.
The sky is a leaden grey and
the wind howls around the tower.
Long lost souls cry for release.
Some may be your friends of long ago
or some lo...
Saturday 10th September 2011 1:44 pm
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...
Wednesday 20th July 2011 1:21 am
Just for now
Exchanging blissful affection,
eyes searching ambers tawny depths.
This is whim V perhaps,
as kisses lightly sweep over
teasing a delicate surface.
Laughter sits comfortably
between sunny days
that just for now
seeks no permanence.
Tuesday 3rd May 2011 1:30 pm
It's Been a Long Time - Gatecrash
It's been a long time since I posted. I'll start how I mean to go on...
Gatecrash
We were the dance
Of mannequin square,
Trapped in the hush
Of a closed hand.
And the soft tap-tap
Was all it took; four
Fingertips on a soft palm,
Clapping like castanets.
And the glass drips hang,
Gasping at the candles
Flick...
Sunday 24th April 2011 1:21 am
Our Blanket beneath The Stars
Friday 1st April 2011 10:55 am
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