the piercing sunlight
speak words of comfort to me
talk about the sea
show me pictures of nature
tell me the news isn’t real
Author: C and K Words
Human | Lawyer | Poet | Story Spinner | Finding inspiration everywhere | Writing poetry and words from different spaces and places | Photographing nature and things |
Our Love
Our love is:
wiry grey hair
expanding mid drifts
matching beards
staying up late
reading banned books
loving without a contract
developing age lines
joy to be sleeping in
Living for food, liquids,
travel, love, and peace
The Last Sunset
position for pay
Telephone calls re-echo
E inundation
a coffee cup on repeat
forgetting the last sunset
Misunderstood
Aching over a coffee cup,
head bowed towards the froth.
Surrounded by noisy strangers,
face awash with red notes.
Alone over an empty cup,
eyes concealed by glasses.
The Sea + Me
The cold, wild seashore
I stand before her vast moods
Me, the Horizon
Between the sea and the shops
I admire the grey, the sea
Depths Emerging
the lunar eclipse
your swirling abysmal depths
awakened dreaming
rubbing your face with your hand
feeling the stardust falling
The Sea Calls
Unconstrained freedom
The promise of my Springtime,
yet Winter lingers
The pen moves to my music
I hear the sea calling me
The Roses
Roses in bloom
once they grew to find the sun on their own
Unique colours
Gardeners competed to find order in flower beds
the theme was align
Once they grew in rows of conformity, humans won
Yet the roses don’t seek the magic of the sun so well
their colours faded
What made them unique was taken by conformity
Free to Write Again
And, now I am free of it, my cage;
the parchment paper fell away,
and the solidified ink blocks,
I slowly shaved them away
until the ink flowed again.
Obscurity
Within the shape of my flesh,
I am a loud and angry idealist.
On the surface of who you see,
I am quiet, old, and compliant.
The walls of plaster and wood,
they hold me to the keyboard.
Defiant, yet clouded by society,
I lament the capital hypocrisy.
The fear within the rented walls,
it holds me back from the truth.
Compliant due to poverty fear,
I censure my words about
until I am in a cage made for me,
quietly moving towards obscurity.
C & K 