Poetry Blogs (2017, memory)
This poem is a reverie and contemplation of my mother.
Time and Windows
If the past is a tattered old book,
then why am I a ghost
at my mother's window,
so clear I can sense her mystery,
and her brown eyes, so alive?
Look, I can fly to her
through the high windows
of my memory
until I'm so close that she disappears,
and the curtain flutters silently.
Friday 29th December 2017 10:44 am
Wind rocks my boat tonight,
Sitting on this bed I feel little more than whole,
The nausea creating holes in my fickle heart.
Father walks cold in the streets of Paris,
Back turned to me,
I wander further upon this ragged terrain.
Distant memories fading yet again,
For in the presence of men and wind,
My skin becomes fatal.
The very blood,
Wednesday 22nd November 2017 7:47 am
From the first page to the last,
I absorbed the world around you.
I was there to witness the tears,
Within each chapter I fell deeper.
As if under a spell, I lost control.
I was lost in another world,
Traveling to a place with no time.
I watched a story unfold before my eyes.
With each word,
I became ap...
Wednesday 22nd November 2017 1:37 am
Am I to speak for your past?
Should I intrude?
For I am the spectre of your years: I was there beside you
In your cot and at your play
I am all that is left
I am the breath of your childhood
I am the oxygen of your life
There is no limit to my presence in your life
Monday 13th November 2017 11:10 pm
When the morning's flight
lifts the darkened blind,
and slows the speed of time,
be ready in your heart and mind
with gratitude, as you drift
on a sweet and quiet river,
lined by silent watchers;
remember their gifts, and the jewels
of the givers,
For that light is sure to glow
fierce and steady in your memory -...
Sunday 22nd October 2017 4:07 pm
She shimmers gold as barley
hands firm on trembling thighs
in landscapes insignificant
where painted memories dry
the meadow fills all senses
where they’d laid the grass pressed down
her soft wrists under palms
flesh opened like a silken gown
stretching low he holds the earth
like god made mortal now comes pain
and as the memory faded then
it flows ...
Sunday 22nd October 2017 10:11 am
Did you feel that stretch?
when time went soft,
expanding over us
How odd we should be here,
yet the same
But you didn't feel that stretch,
when reality got bent in...
the bulging supple arc
connecting two spaces
So time hardened again
and the world washed over,
Wednesday 8th February 2017 7:23 pm
Gave Me Up To Tears
"And all my mother came into mine eyes
And gave me up to tears."
— William Shakespeare, Henry V
The air tastes of mashed potatoes
When she looks into your eyes
And you look back at the fear and hurt
And she says she’s sorry for dragging you here
And you tell her it’s nothing
Even though you were complaining
That very same thing on the drive h...
Sunday 29th January 2017 9:35 pm