I spy with my little eye
Something beginning with a lie:
Thick bliss with a twist,
Jealously deceiving,
Judging and sneering;
Another sadistic statistic
bleeding fear on the journey
from womb to tomb,
dreaming of decay.
Tag: Poems
Under the Door
Darkly you draw me,
The skulls smile and welcome me,
leaving marks in the light
hiding under the door.
Beauty
Found by a gentle breeze,
deep smiles of shining beauty
bathed in slowly swirling
Shimmering infinity –
The tender beauty in your eyes,
The warm gaze of a gentle glow,
while face down in questions
talking to the wall;
chemicals fuming tentacles
across an empty sky.
Be
Words can trick and tease,
tantalise and please…
The meaning of life is:
to live
words silenced
with a kiss
Faces
Faces, faces everywhere
But not you
Not you, anywhere.
No touch of you
No beautiful you;
Only me and the dark,
Haunted by echoes
Of a once beating heart;
Condemned to yearn
But dead to you –
A figure in the corners,
Behind shadows,
Floating out of reach.
Silence Calls
Silence calls
the sound of nothing.
No any
No thing
No deathly
hum.
No ifs
But thank you.
You’re listening.
Broken Screen
Wounds of the mind
cling to the familiarity of sadness.
Drip-fed addictions
waste my skin away.
My words are dead.
Life is staring at a broken screen.
A Clock
The cold face of time
stalks the spinning room:
Clicks staring at the numbness,
Until they stop too.
The Oak
A once delicate acorn
now shades me;
the leaves breathing
and quivering
with the sun.
Greens and browns heave
the chilled tangles of roots and limbs
and spaces hidden in between.
A warm pulse thaws
the skeletal yearning,
until frozen sighs
return, again.
Fear
Unseen,
Fear appears on the pillow
and shakes the shadows;
Casting dreams
with desperate whispers
of days that cannot be.
I Am
I am:
I feel;
I touch;
I hear;
I see.
I say
I want.
I try;
I hurt;
I fear.
I hope.
I dream.
I love.
I wonder.
I am
Flies
Love desecrates the strangeness.
We pray under crosses, owned by Man
and grovel to bosses, slaves to a plan:
Trapped in the web, of their endless lies,
to be spun from a thread
and eaten like flies.
Podcast #9
the outer view
– By Robert Walker
Beneath a mountain of tedium,
In a dull ugly system,
In an empty ocean of shadows,
Is a silhouette of pure fire heat
Drifting in the dark.
All I wanted was the wind;
The wind murmured with anticipation,
The grass turned to icy grey,
A fine mist fell,
And with the mist came my sorrow
Cooling my body
With her thousand kisses,
Leaving me there.
I am surrounded by ice crystals
floating down through silence
into soft glowing snow.
The only sound is the pulse of my breathing.
As the sun sleeps,
how many hearts are dreaming,
when the world stands still.
Dawn
Dead shadows dance in the night
yearning for the dawn;
Cold and forgotten walking scars,
drained by decay,
wasted by time,
stretch out,
hungered and blurred,
to a spark ignited,
climbing,
rising from the ground;
From the last depths,
rays of hope entwine in the sky,
kissing the hills,
breathing new life
and wonders layered in light.
Naked with joy, a new day, a new world is born.
My Phone
My phone pleads:
“Look at me,
I can show you anything,
JUST LOOK AT ME!”
Summon with caution, a mischievous little genie
wants feeding by my stare;
To bestow wonders or destroy the world,
it doesn’t care.
Robert Walker 