tears
In the kitchen
wearing nothing but an
apron
chopping and
changing
bags of onions
and
tears flowing
Poetry Drafts
shiver
As I send forth these thoughts
I shiver
Knowing full well I will fail
to deliver the truth of that
which in my mind is the only
truth worth remembering.
I hoped to convey to you
the difficulties I find
standing alone
of walking away from
the hand that fed me
of the love that shed me
the tears that never
rolled down my clean shaven
cheeks, and a friendship
gone awry.
But I fail in that
as in many other
endeavours undertaken
thoughts mistaken
for truth, ideas
fulfilling promises
from youth.
Shivering I fall to my knees
begging your forgiveness
please.
the tug
Watered-down milkshake in a leaking mug // the straw stands erect by sticky tape unobserved // in moonlight shady shapes limp // resembling men before the tug // whipped cream // whipped cream // dreams of whipping // bare chested – puffy nipples // licking tugging licking tugging // shades of men circling // a naked body unmoving
locker 239
Solitude – a tree wispering
paydays no longer shining clearly
the office vibration
the fading memories
of purpose
Daemons ran my days
never nine to five
Demons haunt my nights
in shades of gray – always
Subtleties as lips on lips
images in dreams only
locker 239 is emptied
the road ahead
lonely
the now will never change
My children
as your read these lines
remember that in thirty years time
you will be doing exactly the same
thing as you are doing today
the music you listen to
will sound the same
the makeup you wear
will look the same
your friends will be
the same
regardless how hard you try
the now will never ever
change
a decent guy
Someone once told me that I was
a decent guy
years down the line I’m still wondering what
she meant by that
I remember hearing on
the news one night that
Gordon Brown* was
a decent guy
I am no Gordon Brown though
not based on looks or stature
power or plain common speak
I wonder if I ever will
understand
what she meant
that time.
* former UK prime minister and politician
no empty page
What happens when you find yourself writing the book of life and is preparing to start the next chapter and suddenly realising that there are no empty pages left, only an unwritten back cover?
the beginning of the end
Today’s prompt: the beginning of the end
is a temptation worth the risk
to pursue all the way.
I passed the beginning
a long time ago
Halfway through
the middle I realised
the slippery slope
without a visible end.
Attempted an escape
but the aeroplane engine stalled
I jumped without parachute
and now await
the ultimate thump
life’s clock achime
A day much like any other
I guess, yet to become
reality – no stress,
approaching steadily
through the haze of
insanity.
Travelling cross-country to
valleys of green
Le pub serving up music by
giraffe and friends
A journey beginning by
the tomorrow of now
The weekend approaches
life’s clock achime