Sunday 31 March 2013

"Eternal Dreams"

treasured moments, framed forever

memories weave their silver threads

through the tear-stained relics

of my, never-quite-abandoned, dreams


and so, fresh tears fall

slowly and silently

in the velvet darkness

of this night that will not end


that cannot

could not

must never

end

Friday 29 March 2013

"All That Remains"

any trace of resentment

that egotistical

self-indulgent

aspect of my pain


I now release

I let it go

those raw emotions

hurting

healing

tears

more tears

flow


and all

that remains

is pure love and compassion

after all

Thursday 28 March 2013

"So Much"

does life have to

always have to

hurt so much

hurt so much

why

does life

always have to

hurt

so much

"Never Felt"

had never felt

such sadness before

grief so pure

which evolved

into despair


and still

life slams

even more

doors

in my face


have never felt so resigned

never felt so defeated

never felt as low

as this before

Wednesday 27 March 2013

"Without Trust"

when your family don't trust you

when your friends - or those you thought were friends -

don't trust you

how do you trust yourself

or them

or anyone

"Final Chapter?"

these emotions
so intense
so overwhelming

such deep sadness
yet a sense of something like
resolution

finality

tell me is it just my mood
descending
or is this really

my story's
ending

Sunday 17 March 2013

"La Mouette" (inspired by Daphne du Maurier's "Frenchman's Creek")

bored with her London self and life

with the role of dutiful

mother and wife


a fugitive

she arrives in Cornwall

at Navron

the family estate


seeking to escape

from that other life

that other Dona

the masquerade

that was no life at all


and the peace

that she craves

she finds it here

and yet

is it really the peace

that she seeks

or adventure

passion

danger

love


an enchanted creek

pirate ship

Frenchman - fugitive - kindred spirit

an artist - sketching a heron

La Mouette

adventure

passion

danger

and love

Saturday 16 March 2013

"This Sadness"

I light a candle

in my mind

for every

pointless

tear I've cried

for sadness that will not be denied

however hard I try

Friday 15 March 2013

"Only Memories"

Empty space -

this cold, dark place -

can never replace

what is lost.


Only memories

remain.

Wednesday 13 March 2013

"Famous Last Words"

She wrote a poem,

entitled "Edge".

Six days later,

she was dead.


They think that I'm fine.

At least I can still write

my poems, and be ignored.


Poetry was Sylvia's "deepest health".

It's mine as well -


and our oven -

well, it isn't even gas,

after all.


Just as well.

More's the pity?

Just as well?

"No Song"

I'll stay here in the dark

it's where I belong

no rhythm

no melody

no lyrics

no song

"Dark Place"

too dark inside

can only see

shadows


but the light lives on

in my memory

in my fantasies

"Passive"

No escaping

This sadness

This too quiet madness

That "they" do not see

That is always there

Inside of me

As I lie here in pain

Quietly

Quietly

And "they" all ignore me

Conveniently

"Gradually"

No sanctuary

No escape for me

No hope for me

Soul dies

Gradually

"Regrets"

In the heart's darkness,

they silently bleed:

regrets. Broken dreams.


I bleed to death.

Tuesday 12 March 2013

"Safe Place" (old poem, hand written, found in a pile of papers - no idea when I wrote it - 2001-2004???)

There's a safe place, to which we can escape.
It's comforting to know that it is there.
In this land, there is no murder, and no rape.
I'm heading for my "castle in the air".
I'll be much safer there.

Monday 11 March 2013

"True Friends"

True friendship
is eternal.
True friendship
does not end.

True friends are ones who stay around,
until the very end:
in this life, and the next...

True friends are friends,
even when
you are no longer
in the room.

True friends are precious,
and true friends are also
rare.

Thursday 7 March 2013

"Reading Bedding Poem"

You cannot deny the truth

of what we tell you every day:

For bedding

in Reading,

the place to be heading

is Reading Bedding.

These commercials pay.


Start to feel good

in the skin

you're shedding.

And images are slowly threading

their way through your subconscious mind,

as you dream in comfort,

in your bedding

in Reading -

which came, of course,

from Reading Bedding.


And the wedding is

in Yeading,

but that's much too far

from Reading,

where all we want to do

is to cheer on The Royals

(football team, not monarchy) -

and, yes, enjoy occasional trips

"dane Readin' Beddin'".


Go any time to Reading Bedding -

apart from when The Festival is on,

when you won't be heading

anywhere

fast,

not even Reading Bedding.

Yes, okay - I've tried it. I should know.


And there are lots of pubs and clubs

in Reading,

but we prefer to go to London,

even though

we know

we'll be a city, too -

some day.


Still, you can't deny that, for your bedding,

you ought to be heading

for Reading Bedding.


County Kitchens, anyone?