A small collection of poems

A friend told me recently I should write poetry. I found these poems tucked away in my files. Some are nearly twenty years old! I make no pretensions when it comes to being a poet, but I do like this little offering. I hope you do too.
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Dreams

 

In the silence of the night

I dream

Waking dreams

Of whirling

In time so still

A vortex of tense nothingness.  (1998)

 

Wounds

 

We all have our wounds, kind sir

The willows weep

branches billow in fractured sunlight

My mother’s curse

 

Mary in yonder days

Scant eyes upon the widow’s peak

In the icicle cold ways of youth.  (May 1998)

Night

 

Eyes wide as shadows dance

Tantalising is the darkness

Enticing is the unbroken silence

Desirable the sweet chill of fear.

 

Distance Learning

 

He promised her biscuits and a TV

What was wrong with that?

She can watch the fighting at a distance

And feel apart from it

 

Friday saw another explosion

A few more thousand dead

It doesn’t touch her

Lying in her bed

 

Can’t she build a bomb inside the TV and blast it all away?

When heaven meant to call on him tomorrow

And sent him there today

 

She meant to tell him another story

But it got told by him instead

Jason’s burning up

Inside his big head

 

She thought love lived inside a freezer

Mary said she knew

Not much got done about her poor heart

Destiny blue her hue.

 

On spirituality

 

Make the journey safe

Sacrifice, your soul

Invent one crucial space

To murder moulded hands

In heavenly shroud

 

Mellow moods of knowing

Sparks and subtle glows

Never late to fabricate

Bugs in beds horror

 

Sharpen perceiving eyes

Looking both ways

Lover love reflection

Light look undercover

See trembling lies

 

Fellow mover over mountains

Finger to figure form

True to be a fated truth

Open petals fragrant

In thankful promise

 

in these things we treasure most

Resting beneath my breath

Cascades deep, river fresh.   (2003)

 

Trauma

 

Ankle deep in shattered hopes

Their shards dig deep wounds

Leave big holes

Where love should be

A barrier, a shield

 

Blame the dreams

That served to shelter

A tattered heart

That led to waking

To find the nightmare real. (July 2000)

 

 

Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: dreams, poetry, Spirituality, trauma