Category Archives: Poems

Poetry is
The art of the heart
Written in the lifeblood
Of the soul.

Twitchy

Laying awake,
Heart racing with the possibilities,
Like a kid in a candy store, too
Hyper to try any new flavours out,
Satan’s mind-spin cycle class, just
Flipping between what is
And what could be, don’t blow it all
Now, trying not to tear it all down.

Excitement at future states
Not yet reached, nor even considered,
Nothing more than a boyhood dream
Come true or false it no longer matters,
For here and now is all there is,
Yet still, here and now, I cannot sleep,
Let alone find peace, just more
Nightmare heart-racing spin cycle junk,
Leaving every nerve ending
Humming like a well-oiled, hyper
Tuned, over-revved machine, engine
Shaking itself to bits, still in
Neutral, yet not still in bits
Shaking.

Why am I so excited? Nothing
Has changed, just as nothing
Changes, so does everything not
Stay the same, as I know all too well,
So why this hypertension of self,
When all around me is still, and
Even the cat and kitten have given
Hardwood floor a rest, still, yet
Not still am I, laying here, heart racing,
Breathe come fast, so fast that
Sleepless time flies, in the face of all reason,
I should be tired, yet still I lay awake,
Yet not still, still.
Rather twitchy.

love

is coming home
Tired, as the day is long,
Happy to be in the arms
of the one I love, the woman I
look forward to spending my
Life with, the hottest babe I know,
By far, the best friend I never
thought I’d have, sweet, warm, tender
And perfect of heart and mind, so
much my better half she deserves two thirds,
And more, this wonderful woman I have
the mind-boggingly joyous pleasure of
coming home to,
is love.

waiting sounds

the sound of people
Waiting, as if somewhere
to go were a natural birthright,
right for some but not others
and still the unsettlingly calm
buzz, of people humming their
comfortable dissidence, with
holding on, like the quiet murmur
an aural hug, paused anticipation
murmuring silence as train approaches
so calm, just another pasttime missed,
lonely call of the calm empty heart, not
empty of love, just the opposite, empty
of longing, of loss, of sadness, and so
emptied, so full of love, happiness, completion,
for this is the murmuring of a happy future,
energetic buzz calming whisps of worry
away, until all that remains is that quiet
general human thrum of waiting time
burned, huddled close on cold platform,
watching puffs of cold white from breathing
bodies, til train arrival breaks the shared
monotony, filling it with shifting noise and
moving hearts, people flowing up and off,
gone, leaving empty platform paused,
until more bustling, vibrating, breathing
humanity fills the empty void between
lost moments, only to start all over
Again.

phantom fire

Phantom fire, flickers corralescent from
The high beam headlights, dancing
Up trees and around the midnight sky,
Flashing images of firelight, fluttering
Burning butterfly, flicking specks of hot
Burning sparks spitting into deepest night
Yet still this thought remains as plane
Tail-lights carve shark-fins in the gloom,
No matter how cold the early morning
Night outside, regardless of the lack of
Sleep, the early mornings and days of
Mental gymnastics and polite talking sales
To get something shoed into place, sans
Shoe-horn, still, despite the never-quite
Comfortable sleep in empty-sided hotel
Bed, still, despite the distant enhancing
Screen showing your beautiful face,
Reminding me how far apart we really are,
Still, my love for you and your love in
Return warms me like the cold fluttering
Of empty white light headlamps never
Could, my love, for you and I are one.