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By Pessall Brook

The remnants of a myth
torn like sodden paper
A worker in the world of words
now where are your opus lines
where does your gilded poetry reside
A hooded figure
cloaked by Pessall Brook
looking for lighthouses
searching for the sea

O, how did you go
this far wrong?

Show me your pages
blackened with rhymes
your songs of tides
and ships to far away islands
Thunder clapping above
r...

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lostmistakeslandlocked blues

I Hear Nothing

A midnight bar, chatting with friends
Between the architecture
and white-noise thump
of the background music
Between my lack of sleep
and the alcohol in my bloodstream
there’s a conspiracy at play
Suddenly, the camera
crash-zooms into me
as all of their voices
are sucked out through a trapdoor
and I hear nothing…

I smile, a strange sparrow smile
furtive and darting
patently pained ...

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temporarydeafness

Autumn

Autumn nips at my door
another year begins to come undone
Somehow, the change of light 
sends my compass spinning
I question where I am
One anchor torn
while others persist
but where to next...

Autumn brings a tenderness
to the boundary of all I feel
Somehow, this drop in temperature 
sends me reeling
I trace the path of how I got here
Quietly lost and searching
in a moment of shif...

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melancholyautumnseasons

Hotel Candles

I see us both, in time
Two candles burning 
behind the thin pane window
of a seaside hotel

Outside, wind and rain
rage hard against the faded awnings
and the flaking paint
of this inclement town

Our flames shiver
then bloom again
Such is life
and slow slipping wax

I’m consumed with all our years
and all the storms
and all the fuel
we burned in our love

I see us both, in tim...

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candleslifeaginglove

The Last Great Beauty

The smoothness of this train
as it slips the platform’s leash
The window scene begins to blur
viewed through tear-stained eyes
A myriad of questions swirl
they smudge my addled heart
Creeping high above all else
it’s that merciless, that jagged ‘what if’

What if this 
is the last great beauty
I will ever know

Eyes hungrily study details in the cover image
letting the pages fold the...

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endingspartingsdeparturesworry

Lovers

We are the lovers
of this kaleidoscope
this ride we’re on
As we twist, we write
of the myriad colours
the fireworks dazzling our eyes
of tears, tantrums, seering sunsets
the veins in leaves
the storms between people
beautiful and terrifying
all at once

We are the lovers
of words on lips
their taste on tongues
and turns of phrase, delicious
The flick of nib on paper
the trail of i...

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writerspoetsartistslanguage

Ice Cream Van

That jangling tune 
told of sweet times ahead
Children playing with hosepipes 
on hot summer streets
and gleaming bikes ridden
across freshly swept pavements
How the ice cream van 
sparked joy and hope
O, the heady idyl 
of childhood…

Now the ice cream van 
toils a different purpose
macabre and tuneless
its contents chilling
The limbs of children
parts of mothers
Lifeless figures...

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wargazakilling

You Are Here

While great troubles rumble on the horizon
here is calm and peaceful
There’s love on tap
which I love to give back

And when I checked the map
that was the most beautiful part of all
and the big red arrow said

You are here
you are here and allowed 
to enjoy this moment

As fragile as a bubble
floating on the summer breeze
The preciousness of this kindness
is not lost on me

And ...

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being presenthappinesscontentmentjoy

Tide Pools

A cigarette glows
reflected in the truck windshield
careening through the city night
These headlight beams
fruitlessly searching
for something gone
The Grand Rapids highways
never take me where I want to be
not even close

I drink awhile at Anchor bar
a quarter spinning on the table
thoughts go round, keep coming back
'til my skull's swimming too
Two more beers
heads they’re mine
t...

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lossfamilydrinkinglonelinessmemories

On The Train This Morning

On the train this morning
I sat alone, by the window
Where normally there’d be coffee, warm
and all the world’s news in my ear

Instead, I chose dry silence
I chose the undulating wildness
strobing past my view way
I chose high green hills
and glinting mirrored rivers 
I chose lone trees, centuries old
strong against the elements
I chose lambs and sheep
moving in pairs or herds
I cho...

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peacetrainmindfulmindfulnesscountrysidebeauty

A Quiet Sunday

The streets breathe 
slow and deep
tree branches sway
in the humming heat
A quiet Sunday
a balm for all our souls

Some toil in the garden
some wander up the hill
on the edge of town
the view from here
is a kiss from God
A quiet Sunday
a balm for all our souls...

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First Light

Dawn in my existence
swaddled by unconditional love
I point towards the ceiling
a laughing baby
and my first word comes
‘light, light’
And the smile on my mother’s face
first light…

Sun broke across the rooftops
seagulls chattering overhead
As a waking town began to stir
me in my best suit, you dressed in white
Finally, we’re here
dappled in dawn light, sweet light
and the smile on...

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first wordlight

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