Four blades of lead line this fine sheet of crystal
fitting it into the baulking bastion that I call a home.
Without company and webbed by solitude, the division
between the plane of reality and sanctuary binds me
to a blackness, bleaker and colder than a void.
The decay of an exalted life is so pungent
that it supplants the strongest of men.
Forgotten, ignored, I agonise over the loss of light, hope – human contact.
Confused and broken, I bicker bitterly over what was, what could have been
what will and what will never come to pass in the morbidly disfigured carcass
I call life.
Posted in Poems Tagged bastion, bickering, bitterness, company, contact, decay, exalted, falseness, forlorn, fortress, glass, home, lead, lies, life, poem, reality, sanctuary, solitude, window, windows
Gears and engines of the world
Grind, pump, push.
Giving rise to society in its wake
Skyscrapers taller, mansions grander
Human throughput, greater.
But what of those who art not fuelled by fire
But passion! Ancient, yet forever fraying souls
Of the humanity that binds us to progress.
Augmented living, but at heart
Man himself is static.
Figures standing still,
crack, decay, crumble –
under the weight of endless time.
Frozen on a winding road
bereft of life, laughter and love
with the Dark ever creeping.
A colourless, speckled visage,
marred by a sullen silhouette
asphyxiated by forlorn hope.
Posted in Poems Tagged Dark, darkness, decay, forlorn, hope, laughter, life, love, poem, silhouette, sudden, time, wear, weight
hate. an outward force.
a necessary parity.
twisted, yet paramount.
Without, what is love?
Late this morning, I saw a world;
a world of the dream. Hazy-eyed,
a view eerie, yet terribly surreal.
I saw you there, close by me.
You held me, fingers clasped.
Gripping everlasting love.
Abrupt flood. Asphyxiated.
Falling away from what once was.
Sudden revival. I’m back…
Memories – blotched.
Feelings – sustained.
Truth – extracted.
Posted in Poems Tagged asphyxiation, dream, eerie, extraction, fall, feelings, intimate, love, memories, parallel universe, regeneration, rejuvenation, surreal, surrealism, sustenance, truth, world
love. A simple idea.
yet such a complex emotion
into all human souls.
A gloomy, bleak morning sky
disturbed by boiling, pungent air,
drifts around inanimate glass slabs
and towers over a bustling swarm.
Posted in Poems Tagged air, bleak, buildings, chaos, city, clusters, confusion, disturbed, gloom, inanimate, morning, people, pungent, sky, swarm