Tag: Poems

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.

Darkly you draw me,

The skulls smile and welcome me,

leaving marks in the light

hiding under the door.

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.

Words can trick and tease,

tantalise and please…

The meaning of life is:

to live

words silenced

with a kiss

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

the sound of nothing.

No any

No thing

No deathly

hum.

No ifs

But thank you.

You’re listening.

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.

The cold face of time

stalks the spinning room:

Clicks staring at the numbness,

Until they stop too.

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.

Unseen,

Fear appears on the pillow

and shakes the shadows;

Casting dreams

with desperate whispers

of days that cannot be.

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

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.