Archives

Seven poems written quite a while ago, taken from the archives, some of which have never been published before.

#93 (So Much For the Rain)

So much for the rain,
You said.

The shapeshifting
oak green blue sky
never came through...
And ever confusing
droplets of
inconsistency fell
in random sequence
upon the cliff edge
where I knelt.

So much for the rain,
You said.

How do you do it?
Pull me back, find
some broken
dischorded cotton
thread.
Find the time in
pit-dread mucked

up grime and out
with it all.
You revive me.

I want to go back!
Let me peer through
ready salted tears
into those green, grass
fields of sun brushed
joy, which were there
yesteryear.

I want to love you
like when we first
met.
It was so new
so full of hope and
chances that grew
into doubts and

Proudness.

Well - you're wearing
your funeral clothes.
I'm wearing mine.

Let your chances be
I, and my hope thine.

 

#56 (Silent Lights)

Silent Lights

They are your eyes,
They are my thoughts,
That do not link with yours.

Happy Day

It's every day,
It's every glance of
Picture perfect beauty

Under sky

Under dark night sky
I dream of you and I,
In Streetlamp City

I dream of Silent Lights

Glowing in your eyes

 

#25

"If only, if only,"
Howled the wolf to the moon,
"The sun had set quicker,
sooner than soon,
With tapestries faded, history degraded,
And my dreams related
with a fork and a spoon."

 

#46

Helena, watching in your cloudy castle white,
Waltzing every dreary thought, picking every fight.
Oh Helena, waiting for your hero in the sand,
Floating a flutter of clutter, too high to look down.

Alice, Alice and your funky wonderland shoes,
If I'm nice, are there some for me too?
Alice, Alice, waiting for your hero in the sand,
Flying a flutter of clutter, too high to look down.

Lucy Goosey, your goose is loose
Your innocent smile, so bland and bemused.
Lucy Goosey, waiting for your hero in the sand...
Floating a flutter of clutter, too high to look down.

Helena, watching in your cloudy castle white
Waltzing every anger thought, finding your delight
Helena, waiting for your hero in the sand.
Helena, don't look down, there is no ground.

 

#61

If only for this,
that you have stuborn power.
It is every beat
Crying Basta, Basta and again.

I will not tolerate this mockery bird
That flies on purple brown skies
I will fight it on the hardened heath
In the growing wilds or green trenches
I will fight it with every sudden breath
In placid and pointless, harsh and brunt.
In everything I do I will fight you.
With God at my side.

 

#105 (Sunshine & Melodies)

sunshine & melodies,
moonbeams are free -

Your light flickers flutter,
the moths measly shutters
blank out the hagged,
stale, complacement of

Your parched face and
plastered smile,
Your drowned gowns of
black and blue, tied
on beads like everyone
you knew who said

they weren't like you.

the anger and wrath.
the hiding and finding.
the burnt orange segment
from glass flared flames.

they're sunshine and melodies,
moonbeams are free.

 

#75

heartstrings
pull these things
everone knows your a winner
the way it was
for just one moment
saw you cos'
i had to

don't fall back now
don't regret
cos one thing and another
makes you bet
your life is real
it's not over yet

full up fed up
with life
holding this knife
let me go
black shoes
follow the muse
lipstick on and
bought a thong

maybe it'll work
it did before but
it's not over yet

reinforcements
are coming.

Author's Note

Any questions about these poems? Don't be suprised if these aren't the best poems in the world since i wrote them quite some time ago.

Reviews

[Kathryn]

Wow, you can really see how much you've grown as a writer and also as a person.
Number 46 reminds me of a children's nursery rhyme. You've gotten much better, no offense. I love looking back at old stuff and laughing or being impressed or remembering the motivation and feelings behind it. It's funny what emotions a dinky poem can stir up or what fond memories are recalled.
Thanks for sharing. :)

[LlamaLord]

The one thing I've noticed about your work, is that you never fail to show the reader beautiful imagery.
"Pull me back, find
some broken
dischorded cotton
thread."
I simply love those lines. The way you write now, compared to back then, has it's differences. However, almost all of your work (that I've read) shows the same passion through and through. Great work here :) be sure to send me some read requests, id love to read some of 'your' favorites!

-Austin