I Still Go There In My Head

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I see it as from outside a window,
Myself walking fast, head bowed,
Life happening all around me without sound,
Distanced even then, not sure I know why
The paces of development grow hazy around that line.

My heart was soft,
My head curiously empty,
A balloon floating along,
Not certain where she might belong
Continue reading “I Still Go There In My Head”

Inside a Public Bus.

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Sigh, and sit on the seat nearest the door,

The cold breeze will help the bad air, you to ignore,

Folk around you will let you open that window but once, no more,

Thereinafter hot breaths and body odour will mingle together so you can feast on the gore,

Hold your collar to your nose, try not to stare at the floor.

Continue reading “Inside a Public Bus.”

Loose floors and shining Eyes.

Screenshot (9)In a coming storm, there is little in the way of shelter,

In an angry sea, there is little to hold on to,

In the middle of an accident, nearly all will pelter

On a raging horse, do you know what to do?

The daunting expanse of unconquered land wants to make a fool out of you.

Do we then come together to see one another through? Continue reading “Loose floors and shining Eyes.”

You Know Who You Are

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I know of a fire,
I know of a life
I know of a stirring, flooded through with light
I know of a weapon forged beyond question of might
I know of a will irrevocable with the stillness of MidNight

I know of things that form the roots in a forest without trees
I know of webs that span the wide wetness of empty seas
I know of desires that are built on expected fears
And the cruel joys that then bring a person to tears
Those wretched happenstances that cannot be seen by seers Continue reading “You Know Who You Are”

A Dark Soul, An Old Soul

Acceptance
The window is open and the wind is cold,
As I lay in my bed feigning sleep, I feel old
The hollowness in my bones speak of stories untold
There will be few memories that my bosom today will hold
I perceive this from the lack of enthusiasm with which I greet the day.
All the actions and reactions that will, with it, fall into decay.

 

I harbour no remorse for the want of warmth in my stare
And I feel that those who ask it of me shouldn’t really dare.
It is not for me to judge the tides of such stirrings
I fear I am not experienced in these whirrings.
I fall short when it comes simple joys, but to the brim in human ploys.
I am like the moon when she is round and full,
Making you rise up like the waves, gasping at the pull.
Continue reading “A Dark Soul, An Old Soul”