Sea sounds sing a song
for the sorrows faced this year,
a susurrus song.
Alchemy
Walking amongst your favourite trees,
contemplating the ways of the forest and wild roses.
A softness came to your soul recently,
so you take a moment to reflect and scheme a little.
Whispers from your Mother remind you of her,
even though she is not with you physically, not whole.
A series of thoughts move your reflective mind,
so fast; you take a moment to catch up, to process.
With no gesture, you turn a tree into a table,
and then you turn a tree into a dishwasher, a combo.
A wilderness has come to the forest from the
commotion you created as you began experimenting and changing.
You won’t receive those wild consequences,
for you gave like for like to change the trees, a plant or two.
Another reflection leaves you startled as a
Cockatoo makes a racket, a Koala turns from you, and it’s quiet.
Snow Shapes
Standing in the snow,
so alone with no one.
Tears of anger fall fast,
freezing into shapes.
Standing in the forest,
swearing about snow.
Fears fade with the tears
as you look at the shapes.
Dull City
Different lights move
to create a new mood in the city
you once thought dull.
You step along dreaming
of what could have been in
an imaginary world of bliss.
The lights and the atmosphere change
again, as you look,
and then you hear the music overtaking your senses.
You forget about the imaginary place
you live in as you miss so much,
then you feel the sounds;
you see the city for what it is,
and it is a revelation to you,
your senses,
your set aesthetics.
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year to all the lovely people who find my words, read my words, follow my blog, etc.
It’s been tough this year, so hopefully, 2021 is more positive.
My Flower
Where pinks and blues once
painted the scene, now
a set of greys have moved
in to silence the mood.
The evidence no longer exists,
unless science and meticulous
scrutiny set to work in this place.
When the flowers bloomed,
the life came back to this place
and the bloom in her cheeks was
the shade of soft sunflowers.
The evidence of her existence
lives in my mind alone;
her beauty will forever remain unchanged by time,
for I killed her in this place, and I buried
her many pieces in amongst the different flowers;
she will forever be my
many-flowered girl,
and I will cherish the love
we will always share.
Summer Breeze
A warm Summer breeze
ocean waves moving slowly
considering things
Summertime
December arrives.
Spring isn’t letting go,
as Autumn intervenes.
Tupperware Party
A forthright proposition,
misrepresented as arrogance:
A gruesome Tupperware party.
Thistle Regrets
Dreaming of the way her hills of green surround me, how her waters flow, that flower on Mum’s brooch.
That Bonnie Lass kissed me, and I was in love until I backed off and left her standing still, crying like an angel.
A bloody git with no love to give; I sit on park benches wishing for a bit of ‘The Guard’ treatment once a week.
The lassies don’t love an old cock, so I use face paint on me face to enhance my features, but it don’t help.
To think I feel ancient at 30! Not even Belle and Sebastian can save me ass, as she’s getting married today.
I swore I’d pop over, stand up like Elton John wanted to, and say I love you babe and I wanna kiss the bride, yeah!
Her vagina is for him now, so I can’t be taking a vagina that’s been freely given in the pleasures of consensual coitus.
I’m shite at love, yet there’s always hope in the valleys and the Loches that are 21st-century ladies and lassies.
Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t a sheep shagger; I just didn’t know love when it bit me or hit me between the eyes.
Speaking of the devil, there’s a lassie coming my way.
Could it be her? No. Yet she’s like strawberries and cream; I might have a tub.
C & K 