Thursday Poem: Moments like Water

  Moments like Water That tiny movement of the headleaves eddies in its wake as thoughthis air is water flowing pastas though this moment could run down into the pool of memoriesalready forming all around us. The pearl of this one moment grows on from the single grain of timea possibility that runsbetween these momentsContinue reading “Thursday Poem: Moments like Water”

The Early Morning Mists

It held there in the silence of the early morning mists, like some ghost of a wood, like some foggy silhouette of what it could become. The ground was wet and the grass, bracken and other scrubby plants hung heavy with moisture. It was as though the clouds had become too heavy with rain andContinue reading “The Early Morning Mists”

The Underwear of the Legends

It was way back in the time of legends were the women wore metal underwear – and little else – and carried swords almost as tall as they were. Of course, the symbolism of women in armour – no matter how little of it there was – carrying large phallic objects was little commented onContinue reading “The Underwear of the Legends”

Monday Poem: The Space that Lies Between Us

The Space that Lies Between Us It begins, and there is silence.Then there is an end to silencewhen the moment starts as movement. Shapes form in the air, dissolvingfading into loss and darknessmemory is left recallingvague disturbances of past times. We have words to shape memoriesconjured  from empty spacesdancing them across distanceslying here between us,Continue reading “Monday Poem: The Space that Lies Between Us”

She Waited for Me

I did not expect it, or demand it, but she came to me. She sat and waited for me with a patience I could not believe at first. I was not used to such acquiescence. Up until then I had thought that other people couldn’t so freely give of themselves like that, without wanting somethingContinue reading “She Waited for Me”

Thursday Poem: An Epitaph

An Epitaph Words will always change things.The event becomes languagethen disappears behind its mask of words. We know only the words,when everything else has goneonly the words remain.You left me behind here as you walked away.All I had left to holdwere your words of farewelland I never let them go. I took them back homeContinue reading “Thursday Poem: An Epitaph”

The Cold Blank Page

Sometimes it is easier to dive straight into the icy coldness of the blank page, and with a few quick strokes, swim a whole stream of words across the page, leaving it churning, disturbed in your wake. Other times, though, you want to slip into the cold blank page, slowly and carefully, shivering as itsContinue reading “The Cold Blank Page”

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