Small Provincial Station

Tags

Communication, Connection, creative, Crossroads, friendship, loss, Love, poems, poetry, Small Provincial Station, spirit, Strangers, Trains, verse, writing

We met when we were strangers

On platforms changing trains

Time would never be the same

No season spoke the dangers,

Our faces wore expressions

Of kindred spirit found

Our voices made no sound

No doubts and no transgressions,

We stood aside the crossroad

And looked along each way

Hoping for another day

To break the secret code,

We met when we were strangers

On platforms changing trains 

But I could feel the hurt and reins

Beneath my feet the dangers,

We met when we were strangers 

But I knew even then

That I was nothing more

Than a small

Provincial

Station.

Waiting

Tags

creative, inspiration, loss, poems, poetry, Promises, Signs, verse, Voices, Wiating, writing

Waiting.

Waiting, waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting for the reward,

The prize that lingers

Beyond the next corner,

Behind the door.

Waiting for the call,

The voice of the heart,

Calling from the darkness,

Promises of more.

Waiting for the movement,

The sign for us to go,

A motion from outside,

The silent, secret law.

Waiting for the floor,

To open up beneath,

To feel its welcome breath,

The silence of its roar.

Waiting for the angels,

To spread their wings around,

Reveal a their wonders,

And open up the door.

Waiting. 

Waiting, waiting.

Waiting. 

Silent Flight

Tags

Birds, creative, Escape, hope, inspiration, poems, poetry, Silent Flight, sky, verse, writing

Silent the birds fly

Their dappled bodies blackened

In silhouette

Against the cold air

As they weave their way

Through the blue,

Through the white,

Like counters on a board

Searching for the draught 

That will pull them through

Lift them up

To soar,

Silent beaks and

Silent wings

Their presence lost amongst the flock

Awareness isn’t theirs

To be lost and found within the fold

To hold eternity in the beat

Of a wing

Or a prayer

As they glide-mark the sky

Trailing blue,

Trailing white,

In their wake.

Letters of Love

Tags

creative, hope, Letters, Letters of Love, loss, Love, nostalgia, poems, poetry, Seasons, time, verse, winter, writing

He knew that Winter was coming,

Felt its ice-brushed roots

Wrap themselves around his thoughts

And choke the words

As they hung

Like swinging men

In his throat,

Remembered then

The invincible spring

That offered him

Letters of love 

Through the mail

Which fell at his feet like kisses

Pirouetted on their toes and wove

Themselves into words 

Which danced in his head

Then tumbled in passages that came

From who knew where,

The Summer when his passion

Turned thoughts like cartwheels

A windmill grinding

Gathered up things he’d never seen

And lay them like a lamb on the page

At his feet

Like a sacrifice 

Of sorts,

The surety of Autumn’s voice

As it echoed through the caverns

Emptied now

Not driven by desire or need,

The comfort of the leaves

And the colours that they spread

Beneath his feet

Within his heart

As the doors behind him slowly closed,

He knew that Winter was coming.

Only You

Tags

creative, inspiration, Love, Only You, poems, poetry, verse, writing

Everything is nonsense

But you:

The trinkets and the gold,

The diamonds and the dust;

The castle walls we build,

And all that turns to rust.

The words we speak so loud,

And those we bury deep;

The things we seek to waste,

And everything we keep.

The script we act each day,

The faces that we show;

Favours that we garner,

And those we keep at bay.

Pockets filled with silver,

And hearts so full of pride;

All we show to others,

That say ‘at least we tried’.

Yes, everything is nonsense,

Nothing counts in time,

Everything is nonsense,

But you.

Time

Tags

age, creative, Innocence, loss, Love, Memory, poems, poetry, time, verse, Wisdom, writing

Time turns the page,

Its benign eyes watch

As hands stretch out,

Offering the wisdom of experience

In exchange for the innocence of youth,

And we grasp at it

As if it were the only way,

As if it somehow offered up

An answer to our lives,

And how so easily we part

With all that we once knew,

And concepts such as hope and faith

Now gather dust on shelves,

That lie beyond our sight

And so far from our reach.

Kiss the Blind

Tags

creative, faith, Honesty, Kiss the Blind, Perception, poems, poetry, Self-awareness, Truth, verse, writing

Hand weakens resolve

Slips through my fingers

I cannot be

Perceptions of others

Vanish in daylight

So scentless the rose

The taste on my tongue

Reminds me of dreams

Beneath the bruise

Feelings of absence 

Drowning in platitudes

Still reaching out

Caverns uncharted

The blind kiss the blind

Lips dripping

Horizons a mirror

Footsteps untaken

A veil drawn over

Doorway that leads

Once more to the start

On Reading (part two – the books)

Tags

Answers, Books, Competition, creative, Fun, On Reading, poems, poetry, Quiz, Reading, writing

As promised here is the list of books to accompany ‘On Reading’ my post from Saturday.

I hope you got them all!

1. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
2. The Stranger (Albert Camus)
3. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoevsky)
4.The 39 Steps (John Buchan)
5. The Trial (Franz Kafka)
6. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Lewis Carrol)
7. Hard-Boiled Wonderland and The End of the World (Haruki Murakami)
8. The Vegetarian (Han Kang)
9. The Castle of Crossed Destinies (Italo Calvino)
10. Hotel de Dream (Emma Tennant)

On Reading

Tags

Books, Competition, creative, Fun, Guessing game, Literature, On Reading, poems, poetry, Prizes, Quiz, Reading, Silliness, verse, writing

Just a bit of silliness, really, (the verse that is, not reading itself without which…).

Points will be awarded for anyone who can recognise the books from the (sometimes slightly obscure) precis. There are ten points up for grabs…but no prizes other than self-satisfaction!

I lost myself
Between the sheets
Lived each page and
Every beat,
I was the lover on the moor
The killer on the shore,
Sat in a garret wracked with shame
Keeping secrets on a train,
A man on trial without a charge
The girl both small and large,
The man with shadow never seen
A woman turning green,
My stories told in Tarot cards
Where dreams collide and play,
I lost myself
Between the sheets,
And found myself
Within the words.

Answers (for those interested) on Monday.

The Wrong Story

Tags

Acceptance, Communication, creative, Falling Sleet, inspiration, loss, Love, poems, poetry, The Wrong Story, Understanding, verse, writing

It was the wrong story that leapt up and out at me,

From the page that I saw behind your eyes –

Its tumbling words sang to me as if I were the one,

The only one to whom they spoke.

They wrapped themselves around me like a Winter’s evening shawl,

A warmth and comfort my insides craved,

A tale unpicked for me.

And as my mind began to weave and tangle a missive in which to grow,

My eyes closed blind to those I saw and

Nurtured futures fruitless.

I turned and spread each leaf before me reflecting as I did,

On every word that I planted there,

And every root that you pushed deep.

And only when the stems had grown and twisted every one,

About and through my aching frame,

Did my eyes, at last, loose their lustre –

And only then did I recognise that,

The story I had read was wrong.