Poetry Blog by Paul A M Palmer
If only he hadn't had freckles.
If only he had been taller.
If only he hadn't spoken with a lisp.
If only he had liked playing football.
If only he hadn't been so shy.
If only the teachers had noticed.
If only he hadn't worn shorts.
If only he had liked pop music.
If only he had said something.
Sunday 19th June 2016 10:36 am
The pallor of the parquet floor
Brings recollections of
School, its classrooms, its corridors
Somehow the pattern pulls
Me into a journey through
Time; conjuring images
Of art and assemblies,
Of laughter and lateness,
Of parents and pupils and plans:
For a future unknown;
For escaping the lessons
And the chill of those changing rooms.
A mishmash of memories,
Monday 30th May 2016 1:18 pm
Sunday 22nd May 2016 9:23 am
The Office Waits
The office waits after
A quiet night,
Lulled to sleep by
The hum of the air con
And the tinnitus of the transformers.
The stillness and silence
Of the morning is broken
By the ping of the lifts
And their electronic voices;
By the clattering of keyboards and
The muttering of memory failures:
Another forgotten password.
Then the photocopier yawns -
Its plastic bo...
Saturday 14th May 2016 11:11 am
(By Paul A M Palmer)
"There's only one way to kill it:
You have to dig it out."
It's what they recommend,
The locals: they have the knowledge.
Scrape and scrape the top, spade against
The turf and tufts of lichen and moss.
“You have to deepen the trench and then
Scrabble and search for the roots.”
Black and brown in the soily ground
Its fibrous tubes and tendril...
Saturday 7th May 2016 9:31 am