One of these on a Monday.
If lost, the things I hold most dear,
these minutes, hours, months and years
that helter skelter through my mind
swim intertwined with all I am,
and without which I could not be.
Still I would cling to hope and faith
that were we ripped from life and love
that in that place of darkest loss
not knowing where or when or why
I would reach out and find you there
and once again sweet love would taste
and life renewed, new memories make
this destiny once more to live.
Just messing around with words and patterns and themes…
This dance, this tender back and forth
blown on the wind, true north, stars bright
seem gone at dawn, but night burn white and linger still.
When passions red paint rooms and beds and will, aflame
here in this embrace call your name and then
complete submit and without blame or guilt lose track
of time and lack no thing for all I have and need is you.
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and cake. I like cake too. And biltong and great tv and my van and my family and the rain and comics and Judge Dredd and tattoos and boobs. Oh and my drill. It’s a cordless bosch and I enjoy it a lot. Great battery life.
One of these…
Oh how we fell from where we soared, burned by the heights for which we reached
And helter skelter in this place , this now, this dark, this night we crashed
and broken, bloodied, bruised and fighting still the urges to be right always
and onwards we will drop beyond green pastures where we played.
Until, at last, in cold and dark
we recollect but now too late
this compromise, sweet give and take, was always that which gave us flight…
Another of these thingies
Oh how we fed so hungrily
our bellies fat with lofy lies
love whispered in the soft warm dark
and tongues drip empty promises
.
And time and tide do steal these things
that tender once now feel so spent.
I see you, cold and breathless still
Uncaring gladly watched you pale,
yet yearn, fools heart, for one last touch
while like bright stars dissolved at dawn
you fade yet hold tight to lost truths.
.
And there alone reside in tattered robes of rage
And home made crown of sharpest thorns,
so safe behind tall castle walls
untouched by all but darkest self.
Even more wordy words
At days end, somewhere in the darkness,
Memories fade of endless firsts
and how I took your hand in mine
and promise poured so sickly sweet.
Cold breath, warm skin, sweet recollection
footsteps in the snow that slowly
brought you to my door
with liars dreams of ever more.
Those roads, we knew where they would lead
and need, such greed breed treachery
and love it twists, obsession births
and
More words…
In the darkness her tears flow through him,
Carving winding canyon’s in the barren hills of his existence
Bubbling and swirling, filling the arid wells of a hundred lonely lifetimes
Where he searched for her across all of time.
.
And then at last paths crossed at sunset
Stars align and fondly smile
Lie wrapped in arms still scarred and shaking,
pain of their making , yet oh so sweet.
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And in her tempest feels her rage
and calms and comforts, calls her name
into the wind and soft returning
promises to never fail.
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Deep and far and beyond memory
her rock through ages, dusk and dawn,
But river beds run slowly dry
when storms give way to golden days.
.
No blame. No fingers pointed harshly
Lived and loved but slowly lost
Bliss for a moment, Stratos soaring
Knowing, eyes wide, at such cost
Some words…a few rhyme..
Words wise, oft thick with sickly praise
malaise spills at her dark demise
and in those final hours she beckons,
nightfall, crooked finger calls.
.
This halo tarnished, pious pride
held back, regret digs talons deep
and wide and far she searches longing
for one more chance at ever more.
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Again she watches as he turns
Each moment replayed thousand times
She burns and rages at the loss
This cross she bore, redeemers bride.
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The tears, cold fears, though seldom solace
Bring yet anger sweep away
A heart entwined, yet always empty
At last peace finds in sunset’s rays.
.
She softens this last time as all
She was and is slow slips away
And summer days and grass that sways
Bid walk one last time until rest.
Cold I sit, consoling words still tossed upon the wind,
Your fires burn bright where embers once were piled….
Cold I sit, consoling words still tossed upon the wind,
Your fires burn bright where embers slowly died
reminders of our sighs, sweet lies and smiles forced wide
oh how I watch you shine.
There in the grass where once we lay
you watch clouds chased through skies as blue
as eyes that wept when days grew grey
and we forgot that love can’t always last.
And so, wings spread, wind carried far and wide
lost to these arms and calm caress
the things you hide, unsatisfied
I watch you fly away.
This verdant land where through the grass
names long forgot by men on wind
are whispered still and walk abroad
when mist shrouds veil and hill and dale.
This verdant land where through the grass
names long forgot by men on wind
are whispered still and walk abroad
when mist shrouds veil and hill and dale.
Their sacrifice, such love and loss
Still carries over valleys deep
and mountains, white capped, tell their tales,
forgotten take eternal sleep.
These millions, each beating heart,
Such hope and longing for the day
When old they look upon a life
Well lived and sons and daughters roar
And shine and blaze or silent sit
And contemplate what came before.
So take this banner, pen and book
And let not time this life forget
And in the hearts a story write
Tomorrow’s child to still remind .
These things from which were crudely hewn
And in this expanse shaped and formed
Give way to heart and hate and fires
that burn and fiercely do refine
These things from which were crudely hewn
And in this expanse shaped and formed
Give way to heart and hate and fires
that burn and fiercely do refine
This love that cuts and scars run deep
warm laughter hollow peaks then fades
And darkness melts at growing light
Which swells and soars, illuminating.
So come what will, we bend unbroken
Buffeted by winds of change
and edges soften, time moves onwards
rearranged and stained and aged.
Now take this thing I have become
With artists eye see shape and form
And lines, deep colours, shades and tones
this creation ever changing.
it’s somethign I guess…well actually not really…meh…
It seems that there are those that will, and I think it’s a farce,
but people (per the internet) do hide things in their arse.
I’m told (though not seen it myself for I share my PC
with kids) so cant research it but if I did I would see
Ripe marrows place in darkest holes, and veges by the barrow
inserted, lubed and with great force, pushed into bottoms narrow.
Digits, midgets, varied widgets placed where sun shines not
a friend of mine vanished a vase when on it she did squat.
This bloke from Scotland, cavernous, spread wide, bent to receive
the contents of Old Nick’s full sack when drunk on Christmas eve.
And I did read a tale of woe of one lad who took pleasure
dressed as a pirate placed gold coins inside like hidden treasure.
A story told of one young chap one night when feeling fruity
filed down a tooth bruch, electric type, to place inside his booty.
But not outdone a lass invited several chaps to sample
her gaping hole but it turned out that just the two were ample…
Things stuck inside, spread open wide, or isides falling out
each to their own, and when at home, I really have no doubt
that there are those who cant recall, have lost things, or forgotten
I might suggest they might just be lodged inside your bottom.
These battles played out on the streets….
These battles played out on the streets
For heart and soul, beneath the sheets
And words they spill, lips full of rage
And like blood spill onto the page.
My now
Your then
Our what might be
And blinded, clambering to see
The path not taken, setting free
And time will tell, and roads will wind
As shrouded pasts are left behind
This evermore
That what could be
Those sweetest of tomorrow’s
Like stars beyond my reach …
Like stars beyond my reach those thoughts of you
slip through my fingers to my feet
head bowed faintest recollections blown like sand
I’m left here on this precipice.
Here in the darkness looking out
and fire burns on horizon distant
blood red, golden on my face
One last time wind whispers your name
One of these?
At night he whispers sweet reminders
of how it felt, quite swept along.
Returning tides compelled, jump in,
strong currents have their way.
And beaches red at sunset burn
as she returns to land once more
and on her lips his promise lingers
salt stained on her skin.
Until tides turn and whispers fade,
sepia tinged her longing rests
and deep she sighs, sea at her back
and smiling turns away.
Okay so perhaps a work in progress title but it got your attention I am sure. Just in one of those moods 🙂 Sorry. Kinda.
Were I at last to recognise the thing that we became
The thorny, bristling, spite filled rage
That spews from me onto the page
And like so many through the age,
At last I give it name.
My not again, my what the fuck, my who the hell was I
Quite compromised, unrecognised
And like those fools, philosophised
That I was there, just drowned by lies
And watched as life passed by.
And then, unshackled, this my thought
Regret no more, not turning back
And craving not the things I lack
now place your lips upon my sack
And kiss them like you ought.
Come on, were all a bit too serious sometimes
In sleep I kiss your lips now cold
and miss the hand I used to hold
but god you made me feel so old
I’m kind of glad you’re dead
Heart’s drift apart when rent asunder
but can you blame you blame me there’s no wonder
from day one it was quite a blunder
should have listened to what friends said.
Mouth full of lies and legs oft parted
and that time you shit when farted
Inside I smiled when you were carted
to final slumber’s bed.
On and on such endless droning
pretty mouth but so much moaning
okay so I quite liked you groaning
when you were giving head.
But time moves on and people change
yeah yeah I know I may be strange
but jesus you were most deranged
and filled us all with dread.
So fare thee well, you did expire
now consumed with roaring fire
toast marshmellow on funeral pyre
I’m glad you’re gone, ’nuff said.
Just one of these things.
This cliff top wreckage of the place that once our hope protected
I stand and feel the chill of night as shadows slowly lengthen
And as my thoughts are drawn to betrayed memory of promise
Those icy fingers of regret squeeze tight and leave me gasping.
No night, no stars, no restless slumber
Horizon sparks and crackles
Into this tempest I will run
And scream your name one final time.
Lungs bursting, eyes red as the blood
That thunders through these veins
The words are lost as rising waters
Drag your ghost to inky depths.
And on that beach as morning comes and calm creeps with the sun
I turn , soft waves lap at my feet, and look back one last time
There in that place where love once blossomed nothing now remains
Your name now lost upon the breeze that blows upon my face.
Just one of these things.
When skies turn grey, horizon’s shrouded
Compass bearing wayward, lost
I find my comfort wrapped in you
and threads that bind, knit tight.
Drawing close such warmth I find
life’s colours woven through this cloth
though mended, frayed, it’s patched with love
and never out of reach.
This love, this life, our ever more
through storms that roar and rage,
my shelter until morning comes
and sun shines on my face.
Words perhaps? Not Rhymey ones. The other type.
Lips like fire set worlds ablaze
and reckless how they run
those crimson tongues charred ruins make
and promise they turn to ash.
In sweat soaked sheets they smoulder still
the merest spark brings it to life
and lies once more sing sweetest strain
until burnt out flame fades to black.
Fancy one of these?
Mouth dry, full of regrets and lies
and fading dreams of what we had
they fill my mind when eyes I close
and raging ‘gainst the lovers sunset
I thrash between these sullied sheets.
There in the distance, silhouette,
you walk where once we lingered long
into the night and then slip softly
hand in hand
into someone else’s forever.
I’ve had flu all week so not written anything and this is the best I can muster.
Backs packed and gloom descending
as the weekend nears it’s ending
‘Monday blues’ on twitter trending
and I curse that I have not yet won the lottery.
For Monday, it sucks balls you see
the thought of it quite bothers me
I’ve felt this way since after tea
and I curse that I have never played the lottery.
More Sunday word vomit
One final sleep
‘neath blankets cold
of eath and clay and stone.
And to my end I walk at last
no evermore, or well lived past
and to the darkness wide and vast
I enter all alone.
And you shall be my final thought
my life, my hopes, my joy
remember me, the things I wrought,
my kind and loving boy.
More Sunday word vomit
Were I to hear you call my name
and turn, to see you one more time,
a souvenir, momento of what was.
A keepsake of sweet memories
I would commit to not forget
or reckless scant attention pay
for fear of losing priceless gift.
No holding back, no front’s, no walls
this truth I’ve kept for far too long
and though again you walk away
unburdened watch you leave…
More word vomit
When old and grey still close I keep
those memories dear to my heart
and ‘fore I walk to final sleep
and lonely paths to then depart
A final time I will relive and tender recollect
each smile you gifted though I often sadly did neglect
your light by which I found my way and through the dark did chart.
Love generous and without cost
so freely gave and not repaid
and eager how I ate my fill
as sunset sank beyond that hill
were dreams way back were made.
And so at last, though late I know
you lie as pale and cold as snow
and how I wish I had the time
of days were you were always mine
Stupid, childish, purile and ridiculous. Meh, least I’m not fiddlign with kids or beatign my wife or listenign to K-Pop.
Hey week, yeah you, yes over here
it’s over now and how I fear
I need to let you know you suck
and right now I don’t give a fuck
about how monday made me blue
Tuesday, wednesday, Thursday too
cos Friday my balls oft caress
and leaves my trousers quite the mess
and saturday, well that’s hard core
my skimpy clad foul mouthed hot whore
Sunday will spoon me, there’s no lack
I feel it’s love pressed to my back
You did your best and hey that’s fine
something something 69!
