"A vivid imagination " said the school reports,
and yet I can't imagine how I got here,
to this place.
I can't imagine my son firing guns from tanks in blazing heat,
or how my mothers' mind in retrograde,no longer knows me.
I can't imagine what it's like to die.
I can't imagine why the mirror laughs.
I can't imagine life without you.
I can't imagine life.
I can't imagine what imagination means.
19 Jul 2010
THE WORDS
I need to shout,and I don't want everyone looking at me.
I need to make it clear that I am a poet.
I need to tell you I'm a tortured soul
who puts down the words you can relate to.
I need to shout that the pen is mightier than the sword,
and speaks its' own subliminal language.
I need to shout that words are feelings you can't express.
But I can tell it how it is and I can tell it for you.
Just say the word.
I need to make it clear that I am a poet.
I need to tell you I'm a tortured soul
who puts down the words you can relate to.
I need to shout that the pen is mightier than the sword,
and speaks its' own subliminal language.
I need to shout that words are feelings you can't express.
But I can tell it how it is and I can tell it for you.
Just say the word.
BLANK
You haven't got a clue have you?
The boredom of it all.
Same jokes, the predictability.
Habituated nonsense, others call solid.
The dreary necessity of everyday,
the times I drown out your voice,
though you've never done me wrong.
So just like Brief Encounters' Fred,
You love me when my heart is dead.
The boredom of it all.
Same jokes, the predictability.
Habituated nonsense, others call solid.
The dreary necessity of everyday,
the times I drown out your voice,
though you've never done me wrong.
So just like Brief Encounters' Fred,
You love me when my heart is dead.
CLOWNS
Everybody hates clowns.
The painted smile that hides the tears.
Tumbling buffoonery diverting pain.
The gaudy psychosis of the clothes that don't fit in.
Everybody hates mirrors.
The painted smile that hides the tears.
Tumbling buffoonery diverting pain.
The gaudy psychosis of the clothes that don't fit in.
Everybody hates mirrors.
4 Jul 2010
THE TOURISTS
Half baked knotted hankies on bodies like greased lobsters,
wave Kiss-Me -Quick hats at passing pedaloes
sliding through paella seas.
Extended and expended families
sway like corn to "The Birdy Song".
Natives ,like gaudy toilet roll holders,
spin faster than a lager louts' wallet.
Carlos loves Tracey, chips with everything.
Plastic keyrings and plastic promises.
The coach arrives,
returning them to factory lines on distant shore.
Carlos sips sangria with his wife once more.
wave Kiss-Me -Quick hats at passing pedaloes
sliding through paella seas.
Extended and expended families
sway like corn to "The Birdy Song".
Natives ,like gaudy toilet roll holders,
spin faster than a lager louts' wallet.
Carlos loves Tracey, chips with everything.
Plastic keyrings and plastic promises.
The coach arrives,
returning them to factory lines on distant shore.
Carlos sips sangria with his wife once more.
WINTER NONSENSE
If I could lose my senses I would lose my ears,
so I could not hear your voice,
the one that told me you would always hold me by your side.
The neurotic bride
is waiting still,
Alone, but for a robin on the sill
who hops small imprints in the snow
then up he flies to come and go as he pleases.
How he teases with his winter wings.
He seldom sings,
learning not to give it all away.
If I could lose my senses I would lose my eyes,
so I could no longer see the lies
that line that frozen face of yours.
And space and time no longer mean a thing,
when like a jester turning endless cartwheels for his king,
I lost my senses.
Heart and head.
so I could not hear your voice,
the one that told me you would always hold me by your side.
The neurotic bride
is waiting still,
Alone, but for a robin on the sill
who hops small imprints in the snow
then up he flies to come and go as he pleases.
How he teases with his winter wings.
He seldom sings,
learning not to give it all away.
If I could lose my senses I would lose my eyes,
so I could no longer see the lies
that line that frozen face of yours.
And space and time no longer mean a thing,
when like a jester turning endless cartwheels for his king,
I lost my senses.
Heart and head.
UNHAPPY MEDIUM
There they lay in a room as one in spirit.
"No ghosts here", she said
as she sniffed the silvery air
devoid of common sense and all the books she'd read.
But for his silent dream,that sadly faded fast,
the air was cold,
And she could see the ghost was from his past.
"No ghosts here", she said
as she sniffed the silvery air
devoid of common sense and all the books she'd read.
But for his silent dream,that sadly faded fast,
the air was cold,
And she could see the ghost was from his past.
LIFE IN A SEA OF MEN
I can't be your lover
as I'm just too nice.
I can't be your friend,
as you want me in bed.
I can't see my friends
as you want me for you.
I can't be your wife
as I'm too intelligent.
I can't meet your mother
as she would not approve
(and I might fancy your brother).
I can't be your mistress
as I don't lie well.
So instead of wasting time perhaps
I'll spend my life with rescued cats.
as I'm just too nice.
I can't be your friend,
as you want me in bed.
I can't see my friends
as you want me for you.
I can't be your wife
as I'm too intelligent.
I can't meet your mother
as she would not approve
(and I might fancy your brother).
I can't be your mistress
as I don't lie well.
So instead of wasting time perhaps
I'll spend my life with rescued cats.
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