Zaftig

((Last one. Anything after this will just be posted as and when it is written.))

Another
Breeze
Calls.

Days
Everlasting,
Forever
Green
Hills
In
June.

Kindly,
Lovers
Make
New
Odes.
Praising
Quicksand.

Rushing
Streams
Turn
Under
Veils.

Within
Xenophobia,
Yes,
Zaftig.

Worthless Artistry

I am no poet.

My crafted words
die before they leave my lips.
My artful phrases
lie in a gutter of self-debasement.

I am no poet.

Ruled by a form
I cannot master.
Rebellion unnecessary,
Revolution pointless.

I am no poet.

No grace flows
From this ball-point pen.
Twenty-nine pence
To write;
to cry.


I am no poet.

Whirling Vortex

((Enjoying myself again.))

Words thrown
about
as if in the mid
st of an enraged
giant’s
vehement tantrum
China flies
contrary to
popular belief which
puts too much st
ock in
gravity
like a soup created
by blind
scientists.
Like the whirling vortex

in
my
mind.

Wheelie Bin

Me mum bought me a wheelie bin
I fed it every day.
I took it out for walkies and
I never let it stray.

Through winter night and summer days
That bin was my companion.
We once fought off a pirate ship
With lettuce, cod and onion.

Then one day a fateful thing
Befell my plastic friend.
An evil thing, a terror and
Our friendship it would rend.

Those nasty kids, that scally gang
They set my bin on fire.
A flaming mess that would become
Poor Wheelie's funeral pyre.

Volcanoes

Pele’s calling me.
Asking me to answer
The questions I’ve been scared to ask myself, of late.

I’m still too scared to ask myself today.

Wrapped up in the covers.
When the phone beside my bed
Stops ringing.

I know this time she’s given up for good.

Someone else’s tears are running down my face.
Since I don’t cry for things
I never had.

I never could.

There hasn’t been a sunset,
Though it wouldn’t save me now
To see the ancient light of stars
Whose lives have burned.

Her fire burns brighter;


I collapse into flames.

Visit Me

A year has passed
Since you stole my heart;
Trapped it there
In Bexleyheath.

Twelve months or so
Of counting days,
Until I'd see
Your face again.

Yet the body's strong,
Needs not this love;
So days can pass
Without my tears.

At least, with this
I fool myself;
With ink on
Paper trickery.

Resolve does grow
To strengthen mind;
I learn to live
Without your call.

But all of this is shattered
With a single message.

"Visit me."

True Love

((Utter, utter rubbish.))

Your eyes are like diamonds
that sparkle in light.
Every breath that you take
gives me one more delight.
Your hair is like honey
poured from a jug.
I feel my body melting
from one of your hugs.
Your voice is to me
like the soft summer rain.
Whenever you leave me
my heart fills with pain.
Your beauty through me
cuts just like a knife.
Please love me completely
for all of your life.