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Primrose

Her ageing hair was swept back to be tied too tightly together
Controlled and combed but not tamed by anyone 
Other hairs on the frizzy jacket from her canine family friends
Nothing flaunted is all so much more, so sensually more

Her prim proper dress hides what I already know
Soft blonde skin scented with a familiar smell
That now roams around the air I breathe back in
Seduction of the s...

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The candles burn

In that room the candles burn,
What else shall now burn in turn?
For what is in that room,
Is life and lust,
Stripped back bare,
As the bodies on the bed,
Minds opened for human love,
Eyes transfixed of colours mixed.
 
The candles still new,
Flicker to one another,
As shadows move too,
Also new to their entanglement,
And I am staring straight at you,
Your heart is beating fast,
For...

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Sex. Love. Candles

"Poetic Rules! Are you really serious?

Rules a plenty and all so we can maintain order of our art of thought
Express yourself through a template that someone else just published
Middle class lives, aspired and achieved and desired and lived
I will give you 50 lines today and 50 lines tomorrow and 50 more on your fucking birthday

No more romance without some cash and an agreement now 
Negotiate in the car or bar or online, but no...

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competitionpoetry competitionsPoetry rulesWOL

Feedback Mode (Why are the nails pointing outwards from that coffin?)

She said I had a one track mind, and she did not mean the shit singles vinyl collection I still had from the 1980s...... This is a joke mate, so listen to the f..... Audio version for the enlightened thoughts of the Truth Poet. 

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Winter Sundays

We know each year it comes to us
Darkness, to bright cold winter days
The greens become a golden yellow
Before bareness reveals ageing old oaks
Yet cousins stay that darker luscious green 
And brave red berries are to be born again
In time for their festive December displays

Birds, squirrels, foxes and rats still search
To find enough to live in our way 
Close enough, but not as our pre...

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beeskisseslovepraySundayWinter

Bells of Time

Those bells rang and rang and rang
In absence of all now gone from us
All in this earth their life lives long
As those bells clatter the silent songs

Youth slaughtered cattle in this earth 
For red bright poppies that sprout to life
Breaking through braved blooded soil
Enriched by a youth of lost loved souls 

Time fated a 100 years ago by chance 
Angelic eyes and soft youthful faces
...

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#Youthpoppieswilfred owenworld war1

Sunday morning time

My mind is calmed now 
Just rested today as music plays
The radio emitting nothing thoughts
chilled sounds of  instruments 
Tuned to songs and voices in melancholy talk

Creative mind can awaken now
As a rare creature from its cave
The dangers of crazed crowds
Far away from the this morning 
Sunday's best for breakfast time

6 Music BBC just beats away
A Welsh soft voice DJs to start ...

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#bowieBBCbbc 6 musicCashJazz

Summertimes should never die (audio)

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Summertimes should never die

So I had waited far too long,
Then you came in that summertime,
It was a wizards wanting dream,
The alchemist's were riding high,
You fell for my measured spell,
We talked, walked, felt good,
As though we knew each other well.

A dress, a suit, a summer skin,
Be owed to the warmth of sin,
Forbidden fruit, future wife? 
For you had entered my living life,
Hearts beating no longer needin...

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To dream

To dream is to sleep
Something so precious 
To ride the highest winds in the sky
To run faster than those winds
Running through time itself
Time of a resting soul
Chasing all of life's loves
And life is a bigger dream
Touching whatever is there
In this England of mine
Made in greens and grey
From blood and toil
To the beauty in my mind
And the beating hearts
That are now together aga...

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Then I loved you

Tender are the lights that burn,
To the turning of your love,
Come by my way for the thinking,
Indeed to your thinking about,
Softness of a special touch.

Darkness was too busy then,
So you found me instead,
We knew this wasn't to be,
Just a quick kiss of lips red,
But a first last dance of such.

Time ticks to the beat of our hearts,
We intertwine souls once apart,
Now together str...

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Run for your life

Run, run now, run, run for your life.
For you cannot hide what you are,
Then I sat by myself, and then again,
We were three, alone, together,
I looked at myself and again,
We three, what are we?
In time we are one,
One dance on the lines of a page,
One page in one book, on one shelf
Against one wall and in one room.

I stand and stand again, and again,
For I remain three today,
All in...

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TS Elliot's Window

Clatter this day to it's morning of breaking fast
The city's brethren emerge to tender to early chores in dawn shadows,
Mist swirls to mask a murky  way to office or factory floor,
Awakening yawns of many duties drawn to routine ways and means,
Walking fast, cycling past, or riding on high, whilst the mud flies by,
Looking forward to nothing but the tram line path,
I see your ageing face the...

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The clocks tick for war

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The Spring is coming

Why did I doubt you?
Your faithful truth,
The mother of life,
Winter was too dangerously wild,
Your light is my fight against that night.

Cherish me as I awaken,
Nourish my starving soul,
Let me feel your softening touch,
Hold me up into your arms,
Love me again as she did once too much.

Now salvation has a price,
And your love is somebody's vice,
Yet I need you now again,
I need ...

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Running through the wild winds

Blow wild out into my path of time,

Of rhymed resistance to mild senses,

Rush and swirl to abstract abandonment,

Around and encased from a sterile world,

As I stand awaiting my ambuscade.

 

Reject what can only be failed inculcation,

Admonished to a pointless exhausted existence,

Now I rally and cry to battle,

Body littered with ageing contusions,

So run, run,...

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Rain in June

Cleanse this time for me,
Pour away into the summer day,
Dance around this floor,
From the darkness above.

Race down my road,
Far ahead of me, 
Flood what I haven't seen,
Whilst I wait inside.

Now soak me too,
Be relentless in your rhythm,
Intensify your beating,
Invade my very air.

Wash away the tear,
On my ageing burnt face,
Drain away any waste,
Coolant of heated fear.
...

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No!

Triumphant you laugh, 
The winner and all, 
Of chaos here now, 
Tears all around, 
 
And what of our flag, 
Let the youth claim it now, 
No pole for it to fly from, 
Because you tore it down. 
 
A wake up call for the meek, 
Their inheritance spent, 
We must now rise again, 
We cannot lie down today. 
 
They took the power today, 
They just forgot about their own fathers, 
Who die...

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We are European

Hello I said,
And we embraced.
Acknowledgement of comradeship,
Against the charisma of Uxbridge and South Ruislip.
Knowledgeable he is no warrior,
Unlike the man he took to author.
For we are all Europeans my friend,
Forged together to our bloodiest end.
Britain and Brittany, Britannia from Athens,
Romans, Celtic, Aryan, insurgent Moors, Saxon and more.
What is it we must rule ? 
The fo...

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Saintly softly

Soft sand, the gentle rush of salted tidal wash,
A summer's day for children to happily play.
The sky so innocently true blue,
As a lifeless loved son floats up gently,
To rest on that soft sandy bed in saintly manner,
In sweet blue shorts, brown shoes and his red T-shirt.
Face down, as though sleeping, not even looking hurt.
Hopefully being held close to an angel's heart,
But still a sacr...

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Into the woods we must go

 

I must enter into the enchanted forest.
Venture in at my own risk.
For there are thorns throughout to make a man bleed.
And we must now bleed. 
They will cut straight through any foolish skin.
So is now the time for me to go charging in?
Wary of the spellbound contest, into which I would progress,
For I am in search of a witch, that has already confessed.
 
Into the woods we must go,
...

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In the woods

There is a women in the woods, some guess living alone.
She can talk my language, as well as her own,
 an ancient venetian dialect.
She says she is a real life living domestic witch.
Others try to claim her as their very own pornographic bitch.
I believe she lives with her young daughter out there,
In the woods,
 alone,
 but together. 
A mother, in a wooden lair.
She sows her own clothes...

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The Dressmaker

Her dress was entwined around her.
Dark, luxurious, delicately handmade.
Embroidered with faithful fanatical care.
Arms only revealed, through material crocheted.

A young man on the television hails the dawn of a new age,
In a grey hoodie, he now owns our images,
Entrapping our lives through our faces.
 
There are too many nothings
and not enough some-things.
Warmth of the physical,
l...

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