Poetry Blogs (2012, loss)
Rose Casserley on no more the demanding sound of his snapping fingers (1 hour ago)
I’m not a mourner, not even a friend
Just a friend of a friend, been asked to attend
I never knew my friend’s late friend
So it seems kind of strange that I should be here at his end
I feel out of place, not being a friend
And the tears of his loved ones mean nothing to me
I should be moved by all this emotion
But I’m starting to think: should I hav...
Wednesday 31st October 2012 8:59 am
Your girlfriend threatened to kill me.
But she only did it once, and she apologised afterwards,
Considering the circumstances I think she was fairly reasonable actually.
But I didn't know she existed, did I?
I just keep running through all the things you said to me,
I fold them up like dirty notes passed in class,
Keep them for later,
But darling, there will be...
Friday 12th October 2012 5:32 pm
Our life is a real drama
In such a colorful gamma.
Our life is just a moment,
Sometimes with a torment.
Just have enough patience
To keep good relations,
To love truly and forgive.
You won’t believe
But today I cried away.
Someone thought it was a shame,
Someone comforted, didn’t blame,
Someone said: life goes on,
Someone dies and some are ...
Wednesday 26th September 2012 10:20 pm
This is how it starts.
The thinnest wisp of smoke in the stomach,
The tinniest jolt in time.
The heart, as yet, remains unmarked.
But a flame with strength beyond control has sparked
And lends weight to the smoke that rises to choke
the lungs and throat and whatever remains
Of beauty, or brains.
The heart, as yet, remains unmarked.
I stood there in that fire, burning with sin,
Friday 21st September 2012 9:09 am
Nimrod coasts across the bay
heavy as a swan.
I sit on the ruined harbour wall
Lifeboat Day - St Agnes.
I drew a picture - a cartoon -
me on a rock
a huge plane flying by
sent it to you.
Clearing your home
I come across them all -
cards, drawings, letters.
The doings of the hens, the cats.
Now, even Nimr...
Saturday 8th September 2012 8:51 pm
the blocks of childhood
solid, set square in red brick,
yet from the start porous, lined
by a cancerous quick
so soon perished
barely noticed we chalk one up
then tally them daily
our stars of awe and wonder
in diligent swathes
until the toehold twists
and the road falls away
when the choked black
fear stacked Sunday Psalms
Sunday 26th August 2012 11:00 am
THE JESTER The jester performs in a world full of tears, His chuckle, an attempt to allay all our fears. His joyful tones, sweet music to our ears, His mission, to help those who need it so dear. But what of the end of the long lonely road, His whimsical smile, no-one left now to goad. When the laughter runs out and the jester runs dry, As realisation sets in and he can do noug...
Monday 16th July 2012 1:21 pm
You left my body
before you were born.
My freezing body
floated toward the light,
only to be returned
to life by grace
and a prayer.
I was glad to
be alive but bewailed
my unborn child.
My child, did you
leave me because
of my sins?
To leave my sordid
Monday 2nd July 2012 10:01 pm
Tuesday 12th June 2012 12:17 pm
Today Bella died
And yes, both of us cried
‘Though we know so much is sadder than that.
Still she was a good friend,
Dignified ‘til the end
And now, we‘re gonna miss that cat.
She’d warmed both our feet
Would be waiting to greet
And before you could lay down your hat,
You’d hear that great purr
Feel the rub of her fur,
Oh how we’re gonna m...
Thursday 19th April 2012 12:22 pm
sheep’s wool snagged on wire,
Plantation trees plain stitched
across the hills’
Black holes punched in grey
the stippled lake
but no breeze.
Bird-calls; not song.
Make no mistake.
No-one sings here
among the evergreens along
the water’s edge.
Only warning c...
Sunday 1st April 2012 5:17 pm
Not quite sure why your death affected me so much Lynette.
Left me very upset when I found out.
I'd just been to Tesco’s at Greenfield for Naomi. ...
Thursday 29th March 2012 3:21 pm
Sunday 5th February 2012 8:31 pm
Find more posts here: http://haydenwritesthings.wordpress.com/
The Falling Down
The knives and forks
are crossed on the plates
in the kitchen,
two used cups sit
quietly on the coffee table
by the sofa,
the pots and pans
we used last night swim
in a pool of cold water.
the rain lashes
at the windows,
and outside the birch
tree swings w...
Wednesday 4th January 2012 4:18 am