Poetry Blogs (Jan 2013, love)
There’s always a way back home.
Maybe no one told you
But cement and brick last a long time,
Even when neglected.
You can disappear for a year or ten
Then come back again, to the street,
And watch history repeat
As memories breathe through old concrete.
And maybe it’ll seem strange to meet,
After all it was there I learnt life can be like
Tuesday 29th January 2013 7:28 pm
For two days and two nights we architect a megalomania
in defiance. Disguised in stray abandon amongst oblivious streets.
Scavenging on Oxford Street you buy skinny black jeans and converse.
Just like mine. We shamelessly crawl sex shops for new toys
and sully Soho square’s benches with marijuana smoke.
You recite poetry loudly, off the cuff of your duffle coat,
Sunday 27th January 2013 8:17 am
And thought to find in the dawn’s smoky gloom
But when she touched his damp cheek
He asked, ‘Are we still in our roles?’
His shuddering breath betrayed
The cold question.
‘Yes,’ she answered kindly, ‘we are.’
But ... Oh … Oh!
The light was cruel.
Friday 25th January 2013 3:21 pm
Its cold outside
And Winter in my soul
The virgin snowfall numbs my thoughts
And my eyes and ears are frozen whole
Still cold and colder still
Passion frozen as passion will
And still the snowflakes fall
As silently as a snowflake tends to fall
As cold as cold can be
And the heat within means nothing
It’s the heat from a thousand words in moti...
Thursday 24th January 2013 7:45 pm
It’s a funny place here, in your skin. Why do you keep it
So very pale? Like a sail left out in the sun
For too long and then flown at the turning of tides,
Though it glides across all of the seas
Its beauty is gone.
Such a strange place here, in your skin.
Like an ivory sheet thrown
Over sharp bones, pale tones and fingers
Pointing blame at passers by of unknown crimes
Wednesday 23rd January 2013 10:46 am
I don’t know if you remember me, we met thirty years ago
And made love in my council house flat
I remember the day quite well
And although I’ve never mentioned it, I was totally under your spell
We met for lunch in Manchester
And later I took you home
It was raining outside if I remember
But inside it was a beautiful day
We slipped into bed so easy
Sunday 20th January 2013 12:39 pm
She has no beauty in face or form
Weighting the lightest heart
She deafens our spirits with silence
Filling the emptiness when we’re apart
She breaks the distant grey waves
Swelling pregnant with our loss
She destroys well intended footsteps
Muddying our paths that cross
She banishes happiness out of sight
Turning the natural to feel so wrong
Sunday 20th January 2013 9:43 am
When she wakes in the night she sticks out her elbows and lifts up her knees
That tends to let in a cool sort of breeze
So I pull back the sheets and cuddle up tight
When she stirs in the middle of the night
She’ll turn to her left and lie on her side
So I’ll do the same and cuddle up beside
But restless thoughts always turn me again
When I stir in the middle o...
Tuesday 15th January 2013 1:10 am
I swear to you
a question in a text
a reply that fired a gun
fate’s bullet aimed straight
shattered my heart
another’s life saved.
If I had said yes
instead of no
would I still be alone now -
Martyrdom – with a reward to come?
Or stupidity – my life coming undone?
Sunday 13th January 2013 8:28 am
Sunday 6th January 2013 7:58 pm
You protest, “I’ll be dead in ten years.”
It may be truth, then I refuse to lose
you now to martyrdom, duty and obligation.
In our part-time love, lived in haste
Let me show you how we can recreate
A cherished, domestic simplicity.
A life to lead, not to be led and wasted
Blood ties will refresh and renew
an understanding that’s based in truth.
Sunday 6th January 2013 9:25 am
I often wonder if I’ve lived before
And left this life but never closed the door?
I wonder if I’ve lived a different life before
Reborn to live and love again once more
I wonder if I’ve lived in ancient Rome
Or in war time London spent some time
Dodging V1s and Doodle Bugs
I can just imagine my lovers call when bombs begin to fall
That lover’s call in...
Saturday 5th January 2013 6:20 pm
'Cos it’s the ones that you love,
that will hurt you the most.
Sometimes you wish they’d die
Because you can’t get cut by a ghost.
But that’s the voice of a coward
Like Ben Burnanke infront of congress,
Leads to bong hits.
I’ve walked several times,
To Hell and back,
Old flame and fiery tendrils appeal
When there’s a storm on your back.
I’ll take the ...
Saturday 5th January 2013 9:22 am