2013 (Remove filter)
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In the Temples of the Elders
mites of dust – millions –
spiral down, forever falling.
A head bent forward, bright eyes
peruse a wall of text.
wood, bronze, iron;
examined, gazed upon, a story
of evolution grasped and clung to.
Mirrored walls and stone faces
stare blind at this visitor,
just another intruder.
The encoded scriptu...
Thursday 22nd May 2014 11:36 pm
etched in gloom.
vacant, the guardian of
a chained black gate.
eyes, as heads,
waiting for heroes
to seal their fate.
In legends torn
from clay cast bright
we may witness
fire and blades and bows;
such blood-fuelled spite.
Now all too real;
the skin of time;
Wednesday 14th May 2014 9:03 pm
I scaled the heights, and let me
confess now of their beauty;
razor-sharp rock, heather coarse,
blown fibres from a rainy north.
Sitting on the edge of these
steps, in a vigorous breeze,
the land falls away, time’s plaything,
whilst eons fade on the wind’s wing.
Valleys, cities, factories, spires
of churches, through a foggy mire;
questions floating through my head,...
Wednesday 7th May 2014 7:27 pm
In the Sea
I didn’t know what it was like
in the sea, I only imagined
cold, depth, darkness;
a sliver of the unknown;
‘The Inchcape Rock’ – Peter Graham,
1908, that which stayed
pinned to my father’s wall;
a navy blanket slung careless, crumpled.
And strange to think
at sunrise, the mist would seem
to cover, then to clear, and wave
for the gulls to pass on through,
Sunday 20th April 2014 5:11 pm
Frozen, they placed heavy footprints
on hard-packed foliage, etched ice;
the withered bark stretched around
in slanting lines, near-collapsing.
Moving these weights, one step, two;
these notions in a February mist;
regrets like the broken skies above,
where clouds drift dark with mingled smoke
from fires marking from whence they came.
But no scars give away their cr...
Sunday 13th April 2014 5:02 pm
Once, upon, a time…
Is that how it went?
And did it follow that
those allotted words, those
mined from the red hot
pits of thought,
shaped and resized;
tamed, wearily eyed?
And there, in a large,
our hero, spending days
pacing halls too big for
the right adjectives to name.
They sit, press their
flickering hands together
Friday 4th April 2014 11:06 pm
Beside the Motorway
I stepped slow, drunkenly down
a half-shadowed rough road at noon;
no more than a sliver of dust,
a dirt track, borders pale in ruin.
No labour it was, but pleasant,
above a sky of summer blue;
yet autumn’s grasp it lay upon
the boughs, branches; a breezy tune.
And in a glade of silver hue,
of spider webs and thrushes’ nests;
beyond, there boomed in stereo,...
Friday 28th March 2014 10:54 pm
Straight and narrow
or wide and winding;
warm in a waning sun.
Steadily flowing, asphalt, tarmac
streaming under hedgerows.
And this, the thicket,
a riverbank clogged
with twisted, taut metal
that glitters, half-hearted;
with one million and one
sniggering cars passing.
Friday 21st March 2014 1:50 am
I find, always, when looking out
of your window, I can see
what has come, has gone and what
is yet to be.
Rain, sun, and rain, perhaps merely
a seasonal thing;
a tempest of sorts before the tide
unclasps its cling
on a battered shoreline.
Beyond the sea,
behind the smeared glass
a new dawn tempts me
to rouse you from your sleep;
whispering sounds like fr...
Sunday 16th March 2014 3:09 pm
Beyond A Clichéd Title
How do the birds fly?
Soar, swoop, dive
on the cool grey morn
staccato, sea breezes?
How do you sit there
and watch the clocks
tick glum on cracked mantels
all must surely change?
I glimpsed these sights, two,
through a curtained wall.
Decided to take
the truer path,
opening the window
to learn what could be learnt.
Saturday 4th January 2014 8:19 pm
Ochre, ochre, ochre...
Ochre blotches, betray the dry breath
As we bring home
the August supplement.
Last week's answers, merely
bring more questions.
And I ask,
why is he so cryptic?
That which thunder keeps at bay...
A stuffed solar shirt.
On TV, the fuzzy grey cross-hatching
swathes our green
and pleasant land
Wednesday 7th August 2013 10:17 pm
The Diving Board
In midnight's grasp you stand before
me naked on the dew swept lawn;
limbs frozen, stiff, misshapen,
pale joints stretched, your challenge sworn.
In lunar light, your shivering
ascent on the rusted rungs builds
anticipation, from the ground;
not stopping at the prospect's thrill.
Repeat ritual, your holy hour;
eyes in rapturous ecstasy;
pointing stiff your hands outward,
Monday 15th July 2013 4:16 pm
Fade away my dear.
Fade away as you have squandered
the years that fell on deaf ears.
Old hands point to the skies
and at dusk trace circles
eternal reflections in the sea's mirror.
Separation, right from wrong
the line is blurred as sand and foam.
these tears recede, at night
leaving driftwood, still
From networks in ...
Wednesday 15th May 2013 3:49 pm
Monday 15th April 2013 11:20 pm
You can't Streep poverty under the carpet... - NaPoWriMo Day 9
A silence fell upon the city,
contorted shadows twisting moonlight.
Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced
bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers
in an unforgiving wind.
The wretched odour of deprivation
a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.
Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap
and by night the vampires feast on th...
Tuesday 9th April 2013 4:44 pm
The key of currency
is the changing of hands,
a baton passed on
in constant motion
that binds together
all its participants.
A fresh, crisp bill
is a virgin still,
between your fingers
and epic journey
are yet to unfold.
Thursday 31st January 2013 2:24 pm
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