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These are poetry drafts. I consider all my poetry in a constant state of drafting, some with revision ongoing, others merely gathering dust. Some have been published but will still be considered drafts.

N.B. When these posts were imported I noticed some of my reblogs also got pulled in. It should be ovious from the contents that they are reblogs from other writers. I am in the process of removing those posts.

ANYWAY

I cherish my six-pack so
I’ve hidden it below a
suitable layer of fat. I
hope you love me
anyway.
I keep feeding it pizza and
beer just to make sure it
doesn’t reveal itself unnecessarily. I
hope you love me
anyway.
I said I’d lock you up – briefly
and retain the key. I
hope you love me
anyway.
Maybe we’ll never meet
again, who knows, perhaps. I
hope you love me
anyway.
The days are still getting
longer but soon the tide
will turn with the leafs
falling golden and
I don’t feel guilt but I
hope you love me
anyway.

CINDERELLA LAW

Would it have been easier
growing up in a country
where parents depriving
their children of
love and kindness could
face ten years behind bars?

Would you have tried harder
to learn and understand
the needs of those
not yet protected by
armours and walls?

Would you have
not recorded a child in
distress and later
not replayed said recording
to the child causing even
more distress?

Would you perhaps have
considered positive feedback
and praise of the attempts
made to perform and to
please?

Would you have recognised
that they spending days and
nights in their rooms
might not aid their
developments of social
skills?

Would you have been bit more relaxed and let them get on growing up
doing whatever they
wanted to do?

Would you have coped
bringing up your children in
a country where you faced
ten years behind bars as
you deprive them of
love and kindness?

Probably not.

NEW DAWN

not me: she looks well

me: yes

not me: she seems happier now

me: yes

not me: do you know why?

me: he’s dead so she’s got space to live

LIFE

It matters to me
not
as tears to broken hearts
bleeding silently
leaving traces of
void and unfulfilled
promises

It matters to me
not
as silk on silk
spooning hard
wet skin on skin and
nights in
ecstasy

It matters to me
not
as full moons on
cloud free nights
scattered stars
high above

It matters to me
as dreams
pass by
new days arise
and this is all
that remain

PRETENDERS

I applaud thee
pretenders in
shadows lurking
creating your
persona seconda
at will, effortless
without
commandeering
believable by
most but
still not true
to heart, the
beating heart
in you is not
but
I applaud thee
for keeping it
up

GOOD AS GOLD

Bring me pills to
cherish laughter
dance on ice
shouting – roller coaster!
spin and flick through
glossy adverts
pretending life is
good as gold.

LOVE’S ABIDING TRUTH

As days grow longer and
the darkness recede,
life returning to
gardens asleep,
cover me with kisses
from roses and tulip
cover me with blankets of
love’s abiding truth

PATIENCE IS NOT ME

Another stair
 Climbing up
Another stare
 Falling flat
Another star
 Shooting back
Another stir
 Giving up – for good.

THE X AND THE Y

The passing of time
through counting
Doctor’s sweets
The empty boxes
stacked reaching
heavenly heights
The X and the
Y, never will the
two meet

THE SEAL IS BROKEN

They were the stories
never meant to be
told. Words spoken by
men in cloth, sealed
by whispering winds
forever buried among
secret handshakes.
They were the straw
on the camel’s back
the bullet for the last
man standing.
An empty bag drifting
feline gone amiss
the seal is broken
the book wide open
truth at last
set free

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