

untitledThe next move. She ponders. What will it be?untitled
All of a sudden, she is back -Same room, same carpet, same warm head upon her knee, unconditional love, woman's best friend.
The next day. She smiles. &n


Untitled.Then I walked past the place where the water flows Full of the effluent that grows and grows From the people so glum in their trendy clothes The stench of this place, it really shows And as I walk on down the street Passing by the people who stare at their feet As they shuffle along as they go to meet The latest object of their happinessUntitled.
No-one even knows why they're here.
Then I walked past the place where their dead they lay Surrounded by stones and sky that is so grey And they don't hear me say Their religion has outgrown its day. And the Yew that g


Changed MeYou came inChanged Me
Changed me Amazed me and shamed me Told me my world was gone You came in
And shamed me with your words And loved me
I gave in Believed you And I was deceived by you My world you did destroy I gave in Beseeched you for the truth And loved you
I wish I understood The workings of your mind I wish I had some blood A part of you to hide behind
It is now I do not know how it ends My demons sacrificed at your altar It is now I can see What you meant to be But you weren’t to


Tearful DawnThe glowing orb breaks its night-time shell On the teeth-like mountains and Pours over the world below.Tearful Dawn
From my perch I watch as the
Light spreads. Glistening arms reach out And tentatively brush the leaves dancing above me. As its confidence grows, The golden ball escapes its jagged prison, Soaring into its zenith, As Chronos paces his pertetual path forwards.
Can that old man advance my heart thus, To fluctuate between captive pain and unsuffocating freedom? Can he ease the numbness inside? Will the future hold joy again?
I remain, immo
so, thanks!
Ah, Alton Barnes, my father used to fly Radio Control Gliders on Alton Barnes Hill, but I've never been there myself. I am glad you like my poetry. And you also don't just say "yes, that's good, I like it", you actually give a proper review, so that's great, thanks for that!
2 pageviews, yey!
Speak soon.
James xXx and hugs.
--
Life is a labyrinth of limited time.
Timor mortis conturbat me.
"Maybe I should de-louse this place,
maybe I should de-place this louse,
maybe I'll maybe my life away
in the confines of this silent house."
A Louse Is Not A Home - Peter Hammill
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