Saturday, March 31, 2012

An Untitled Poem

Don’t come back to me
don’t bring your gun
you can’t run away
from all these dreams  
they are all the same
just a long tunneled night
trapped in a tower
did the world change –
or only my view
as the old soldier grew…. older
and his dreams….
just faded away.

Monday, March 19, 2012

I Was Left To Listen

I gave her my hope
even when I had no strength
to wind the clock of time
and I was left to listen –
to her fade…… further away.


She would hide within the minutes
not a moment would –
or could she spare
just a second hand
a third wheel
nothing worth…. keeping
like a life without a beat –
left to fall apart
nothing left to give her
but a heart
at the end of a torn sleeve.


But I was left to listen
as she had no time of day
no seconds left…to say
or no time to give away.


I was left to listen
as she laughed between those seconds
because all she said…..
was she had no time
and what she had –
she wouldn’t waste
on me….


So I was left to listen
between the beats of time
in the hope that she would hear
the ticking…..
of my forgotten sound.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

When I’ve Lost You

Where she’s going, I’ve already been
so she can take that trouble
I have no more will –
to travel there again
and if you won’t listen
then I’ll see you off....
sure you'll say, I don’t know today
but tomorrow – well….
I’ll know my way –
and you…..
you’ll be too far gone
and you won’t see my tears
when I’ve lost you
and you’ve lost your way.

An Invisible Ghost

I feel invisible – a ghost
with chains…..
shackled to my feet –
or just another pocket
with too many holes.


But does it matter….
when you have nowhere to go
so I travelled to my mind
to look at all that history –
the riches and the gold
what else would I find.


Just another ghost
whose old and faded
when nothings real
that’s just the way it feels.


Surrounded by life
as she passes me by
an invisible ghost
or just another fool
who’s caught in a dream.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Every Whisper Is Heard

I hear the tin roof…. resound
in my broken home
two-drops past the buckets edge
and the rain flows –
to the lonely…… floor.


Clouds gathering
as the drums begin to beat
the wind…pining at my skins door.


Where is the sun
that burning pleasure
when her soft lips –
surrounded me
a battle I had one.


Wading through the water
looking for the door
I can’t breathe
just the thought of her
drowns my heart… and me.


She’s my echo
her love…. these beating sounds
my heart now trapped
in this hollow room
I listen to the tin roof
where every whisper….. is heard.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Why Is The Water Still

I went to find her
down by the water’s edge
just past the rushing brook
where an old tree never slept.
Stumbling over roots
now rusted to the shore
trying to find a way
trying to find the door –
trying to find…. her scent.
As the candle burns
to help the blind
I no longer see the sky
unsure what happened
when our life turned into time.
On the rocks… looking out to sea
she never turned….
but asked me –
Why is the water still?

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Just Beneath The Sun

I’m sailing away
with all these thoughts
a windy mind……
on a stormy day.


Did the sea of me…. change
when you stood
and never spoke a word
you just remained the same
but then you said you would.


You said you loved me
but can’t reap what you sow
instead you…. tore me apart
like dark clouds – and the rain.


As I sail away, your soul –
invades my night
all this grey… which breathes the air
just fades my moon –
then fades away… the traces of you.


All these pieces – left in my mind
and they and I – miss you
so don’t tear us…. apart
when the day is done
hold out your hand – and look for me
I’ll be waiting –
just beneath the sun.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Ink Stains and You

You stain my mind
like ink upon a crisp white page
where nothing else is visible –
or matters…. but you.


I see everything around
but it’s black – then I see
the blue shadows
which surround….. all of you.


Then I put my pen down
and dry the tears away
I look at all the writing
that I’ve written –
but all I see...... is
ink stains – and you.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

How Many Doors

What are you looking for
how many doors …
have you knocked on
how many hearts –
have you broken
have you ever seen the paint chips
you’ve left laying on the floor
who am I to wonder this
or is it me you’re looking for
or am I, just another door –
to knock on.

Into My Tree

He is but a worn trunk –
she a vibrant lake…. which shimmers
underneath his tree.


--------------
A truth of buried roots
which hugs the desperate ground
is her love –
which binds me to this earth.


Each day I burrow deep
with gnarled limbs of thought
until I find the freshness –
offered at her stream.


I quiver in anticipation
as the tips of me –
reach out to her
absorbing all the moisture
and draw love – into my tree.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

You Are That Woman

Have you ever had a thought
a colour – that ravishes your mind
an all consuming happening
unbalancing – at the end---- of a line.


These dots, which don’t connect
or lights that live…. only in the dark
and all these numbers – lined up in a row.


Teacher….can you see me now
I’m the worn chair –
who sits behind this desk
you can’t see the logic
or see the tired tears
have you ever seen my face -
listened to my words.


When you watched me
I would watch the blue
just to change my mind
a comfort in the colour
unsure of what to do.


Then I found the pieces -
when I found you again
an explanation of my time
while I waited – to understand.


An extraordinary person
who explains me – to me
no lies – nothing undefined
just my tired world –
long since past suffering.


You are that woman -
who knows me
who never has to say a word.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

If I Reached Out

If I reached out………..
far beyond where my heart touched
and just before my hand – fell away
would I find you there
or would the cold air -
take my breath… away.


Could I balance time
two-lives – one past its prime
could I lean on you….
like a drowning tree.


Can I sing with the choir
as we rock to the gospel…
can I meet John at the station -
and shake his hand
is it the midnight train…. number 21
will that take me…. to Galilee.


Did you hear the keys – on the piano play
to dancing little pachyderms’
did you hear the trumpets - -
they too – will fade away.


If I reached out………..
would you touch my hand -
would you wave goodbye
would you hold me –
in your heart….


If I reached out.