Poetry | Stories | Photography
Watching the trees, farms, and everything else whizz past from the bus window.
For a moment, I was a member of the landed gentry, safe with the knowledge that my future was comfortable until the family told me who to marry.
I go back to watching the trees and the cows.
Asleep with your eyes open,
each bubble forms with a thought inside.
Between two states of mind,
bubbles are forming and cluttering the house.
Awake, you dance around
the house, popping and sampling your thoughts.
When there was nothing left to say, no words worth speaking, those times were the loudest.
You lived in the noise of it all, trying to find the quiet places and spaces for you, yourself.
When you spoke, the words wouldn’t come out and you found that there’s no relief.
The docile teabag sits
waiting for boiling water.
Sitting and waiting still
to release sweet smells.
The teabag reminds me
of so many life moments.
Sitting and waiting still
for the internet to work.
Sitting and waiting soft
to play the next episode.
Sitting and staring at
a book until cross-eyed.
Limbs fold
into each other,
squeezing into
the train seat.
solitary thoughts
night moves on
awaiting dawn
thinking of you
trees standstill
a bird sings alone
soon the washing will dry
tea towels will crinkle
fabrics will crimple
shirts will be naturally ironed
soon the sun will dry the washing
Madness sweeps through,
yet you always make someone cling to you.
Love pushes right through;
sometimes I wonder why I came to love you.
Dark days pushed through.
You said my name each time I came back to you. I always returned to you, and you always tried to save me.
As the sunsets in 2018, I remember your words and my name; my name I do not utter.
Should I be myself, or is it just a word?
I’m sure you would know, but you are in the clouds, and I’m down here calling to you.
Serious;
yet when you
say, “Hello“,
I take the piss.
C & K 