Is
An
Ancient
Art
Listening
Is
A
Subtle
Lifeline
A
Whispered
Breath
Survival
Bell
Listen
Is
An
Ancient
Art
Listening
Is
A
Subtle
Lifeline
A
Whispered
Breath
Survival
Bell
Tag Archives: poems
Is
An
Ancient
Art
Listening
Is
A
Subtle
Lifeline
A
Whispered
Breath
Survival
Bell
The Flood
Once there was
Absence
Now screens rain
Abundance
What will become
of these rivers
whose content spills
Flooding every field
With Poetry?
I am not a fighter
You’d think with all my strength and will
I could break free this flimsy cage contains me waiting
You’d expect I would try
But conditioning takes effect
And you being such a convincing master
Instead I pace my allotted circle wide eyed with expectation
I comply with temporary surrender
Bravado Fear Submission
Seeing the basket meant to carry vegetables or flowers
A joyful attractive thing not a container to save you
The unsavoury experience of splatter
Your authority soiled by my blood.
Man Without A Face
There is a man without a face
I saw his portrait on a wall today
His hair is black and all in place
Don’t know his name
Don’t know his trade
Don’t know the reasons for his fate
I think a lot about him
Wonder how it feels to vanish with no trace
What it’s like to be a man without a face
The Crowd
The crowd is
the crowd
You’re either in
or you’re out
The crowd is
always the crowd.
Mary’s Door
I wander slow
past Mary’s door
I pause to see
her tapestry
hanging still
in her dark window
Mary’s door
locked from the inside
Mary don’t
live there no more.
Stone
Leave a stone
Leave a stone
Leave a stone
So that it can be known
you stepped through here alone
Leave a stone
Leave a stone.
The Call
Ancestor
I place you here
in plain view
to gaze into depths
imagine
what once your words
must have
meant
Overland: it’s too much now
Too much information
so many lines
enticement in silent gestures
Lies and rips
undermining plump lips
even your shoes suspect slip