poem – Page 15

The Belter

Oh, my beat-up heart
She tests me at every turn
sass on steroids, this one

always bossing me about
while looking at other men
never enough jewels

Oh, but I love her so much
The rare tender moments
I’m the luckiest bloke

Within the grey day of solitude,
they walked through the cemetery.

Carefully walking around the dead,
respectfully contemplative.

An angel carved from stone sits still,
head bowed in the sorrows.

Withstanding the seasons for her,
the sleeping child within.

The maddening grey
You, conjuring memories
The charm bracelet sways
Lightning strikes the ancient tree
The thundering rain soaks you

No heat on at night
the cold crisp covers caress you.

Positioned for sleep
the cat positions herself near your leg.

Waking at three am
the pain of a numb leg and the great urge.

Wobbling in the dark
almost falling into the toilet darkness.

Coming back to bed
The mischief begins

deciduous heart
like the elm tree losing leaves
a heart made for Spring

turn towards the sea
away from the proposal
a sapphire promise
calling for the one you love
walk into the saltwater

From the winter night
youthful crimson lips appear
With Bloom’s sweet promise
caught within those deep green eyes
A delicious meal for one

Blinds hide the sunlight
another financial year
letting some light in
The quarterly budget tears
shining sunlight on the screen

Sea pigeons do circle
The scent of methane, rotten and sour
dreaming of verdant green

forgotten by the world
sitting beside a broken toaster
kettle without a cup

We remember a home
to be of service, to have purpose
boiling, steaming, toasting

Idle
We sit contemplating
Waiting

drab brown aesthetics
puffy taffeta pink dress
a pencil and tape
loading the cassette player
dance to forget the cold war