In a bed
Or a car.
On a plane
Or a train.
In the long grass
Or a barren beach.
Against a wall
Or a kitchen table.
As long as it isn’t
Against a will.
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poetry
All posts tagged poetry
patiently trees wait
to praise each glor’ous sunrise
poems on paper
It is said; if you wear an ugly face
When the wind changes –
Your face will stay that way.
If the wind changes
While my heart is broken –
Will it stay that way too?
From the west it came
Carrying dust and sandflies.
My skin dried and grit filled my eyes.
I felt I’d never be the same.
This ill wind had blown no good.
To my despair was added discomfort.
Hopes for peace had come up short –
I let myself fall.
On any still night
When the clouds are low
And the city lights,
Create an orange glow.
You may perceive it.
Maybe not in the first instant
But with time you might
Come to notice the remnant.
It’s the noise that’s left behind
As society goes about its business –
The machineries daily grind.
It’s an eerie, almost silence.
You’ll know it from the time
You’re sweetheart touched your hand
In that crowded five and dime
The murmur, the only sound that remained.
And as you stand at sea’s shore
On this calm, steamy evening
You can hear it once more,
The hum of lives out there – living.
At this precipice –
When everything falls aside
When relevance is intimate
Is colour unquestionably brighter
Is salt air now honestly sweet
Are priorities still valid
Are beliefs still as profound
Or has reality given wings to life
Or perhaps lit a previously dark path
Then step back and taste this life
Then begin to live on your terms
Now you have made the choice –
Now you are free.
This book’s well thumbed
Either the TV’s broken
Or this is one hell of a story
.
.
.
.
Gideon’s Bible – found in all good, hotel bedside tables 🙂
How many waves have lapped,
upon these golden shores?
Many more than all my heartbeats,
since my first upon a foreign shore.
How many times am I thankful for
this land that’s girt by sea?
Many more times than I have said,
to one as fortunate as thee.
How many times am I reminded,
that this is not my own country?
Not quite as many, as the times,
I remember, my now lost family.
My love and gratitude for this –
the safety and the freedom.
Can never be expressed in words
by one as simple as just me.
But let my actions speak to you
and then perhaps you’ll see.
That all I want is opportunity,
to share my life with thee.
