Tag: poetry

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 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

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.

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.

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.