Poetry Blog by Celia (self)
Poems are not for happy days,
For resolutions and self-promises,
For being tough and unresponsive,
Poems are not for new beginnings.
Poems are searching, searing, morbid,
They turn you in and leave the sun,
Poems seek out your obsessions,
They tickle them, they wrap them in a bow.
Poems are not for going out and doing,
For being your great mechanical self.
Tuesday 14th April 2020 3:04 pm
And now I must recover myself
Left, after centuries of fearful neglect
Washed up to dry on a sunless beach.
And now I must plait my hair
Dull, after nights of washing in grease
The guilty searches for lost affection.
And now I must return home,
Home, where I’ve never been
And sit a while and say sorry, I’m sorry, to me.
Wednesday 16th March 2016 3:27 pm