Tag Archives: poetry

Listen to the Music

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I listen to the music

 That attractive noise

I’ll listen to The Fall

 To The Beach Boys

I listen to the music

 So candid

 Therapeutic

A stinging to my ears

 So enjoyably caustic

I listen to the music

For instant nostalgia

Of where I was

Who with

Or when I found ya

I listen to the music

 I love that drone

So finally I can sleep

 Until the notes find home

I listen to the music

It conjures such love

 Into my ears

 Let it roll with a loose shove

I listen to the music

Feeling happy or stressed

I’ll listen when calm

 Intoxicated

Badly dressed

I listen to the music

 On various compilations

Those imperfect and personal

 Golden-oldie stations

I listen to the music

 Like a hit from the hits

I listen to the music

 When the moment fits

I listen to the music

 And here’s the chorus now

I’ll listen

Until the music’s over

… T’Pau!

 

 

 

Beachworld

 

footprints cislandAs you stare; stop looking… for answers on every wave, and under the tiring sun that lowers into its new water bed: forever creased. Each nearing roll of surf perpetually attends to the beach where you wander; reaching out and soaking, smoothing scars of soft land and human hand, from land loving creatures.

The bubbling roar of white noise; rising and dipping in volume; teasing your ears into hearing frequencies from lost radios stations: faulty and alluring. Every time this happens something is taken from you, soon replaced by a specific space to lighten your walk inland.

All this… as you stand, feet sucked by gooey miniature rocks that table gels of dead jelly fish; glistening like little brains of the sea; forced up upon confusion and violence from the mighty froths of wash.

 

 

Lets Talk About the Weather

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Let’s talk about the weather.

Let’s lay in bed slightly longer, and nearer together.

Hello, how are you?

Let’s talk about the weather.

Let’s decorate the house in pleasure.

I’m just fine thank-you!

Let’s talk about the weather.

Let’s be blind to age and be young forever.

And how are you?

Let’s talk about the weather.

Let’s plan our holidays and remember the last endeavour.

I am good… thank-you!

Thingmebob Thingmejig

 

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Hey! Mr Thingmebob! What are you?

Oh I’m similar to you Miss Thingmejig, that is… you are my only clue.

That’s nice! but not useful, I need to know more!

Ok, you’re something forgotten that somebody left before.

Soothing… how charming that I fill that void, really though, i’m less than buoyed!

Listen, we’re something! stick with me, in our confusion… we’ll both be happy!

Home Time Vignette

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Flow your tears
Connecting with rain
Dripping with gravity
Drop racing
Off your chin
Swerving
Plummeting down
Your raincoat
Leaping
Dangling precarious
From your footsteps
Nourishing on touch
Do upon their landing
Shake dandelion manes
Electrify buttercups neon
Daisy-chain a pathway
To somebody loved
Someone who waits for you
To dry your cheeks
Dehumidify lingering mists
Hold chilled emotions
Like a cool pebble in a new sun
Smoothed with soft fingers
Under crows feet
And umbrella
Then you disappear
In a buttoned fabric shelter
Merging tributary
Into heavy flesh of loving arms
Home time

Slow Bugs of Late Summer

 

 

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Drowsy

Late summer bugs

Fly dive

Looping

Scuttle drunken

Lazily in ale

Under chilled verticals

Daggers of British rain

Flooding them magnetic

Unto themselves

Toddlers

The unloving

The programmed

Flutter precarious

With microscopic futures

Gumming abreast

Billions of batches

Altogether connected

Too impossibly dense

Worlds of forestation

Of extraordinary family trees

Slowed to pause

 

 

 

Timekeepers

 

 

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Behind  

The intensity of wake turbulence

The sucking energy of undertow

In the midst

Of trembling heat-haze

Sandwiched

Between ever-decreasing circles

Before

An echo followed

By a future muted echo

And delay is breeding its alarm

People bugs

Engulfed and entwined

Contained and compressed

In webs of self-inflicted time

Spun

By manmade life