Tag Archives: honesty

10/ 30 Many roofs

Reluctant comfort
Hillsong is not my heart song
Unhappy feet dance
Dessert or new soil
Thirst overwhelms me
The word is my well
Hats and tambourines
Torrential tongues firefight.
No doubt, home is home

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Filed under Faith, Random Poetics

7/30 “Monster’s Ball”

Curveball gallery.
Many see the bat signal.
Who’s catching who out?

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Filed under 30 day challenge, Random Poetics

Ivory Blues

holding on

There are moments when you wonder
What’s going on with me?
When it seems that the world is moving in a direction and though movement and change don’t phase you, how you feel about it does.
Where your reflections become memories of happiness never created.
When the idea of building anew seems better than improving what you have.
Why have a tattoo when you can use biro and pencil.
When the music that once made you euphoric now stiffens you in purgatorial placidity.
If what is wrong with me, is me, what can I do?
Do my eyes fail?
Is the clearest figment of my vision that I’m shortsighted?
What would I throw away to gain?
Is this the me that got away or am I living to tell tales?
Is my colour of love beyond the pale?
If desire is a palindrome, do I really love my reflection on love?
If love is really selfless do I lose image to gain an identity?
Apprehensively, two halves don’t make a whole but there are holes in where it starts and ends with me.
If love is a learning contract that allows you to amend terms.
Why do many burn with many degrees?
If purpose, humility, desire are the PhD, is love lost if “I” is missing?
Isn’t love the ultimate hunter?
There are times when we respond I’d love to.
IS that selfless or selfish?
Can I love live among a barrel of shellfish?
If love is so strong, is it our resistance to it that leaves us dented?
There are times when your heart is crossing a bridge suspended between where you are and where you’re meant to be.
Every step you take pensively towards this unconditional until you’re un-conditioned
To be one conditioned is a choice that I struggle with.
That’s why I’m sharing me, with you.

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Dynamite Doldrums

heart crackCracks in the ground and nobody gets high
Sleeping with your troubles, its the way lovers lie
Pad, locked my heart so I’m docked at quay side
Wondering if my Indian summer’s with the crop of Teesside
Is it called falling in love if your choice reveals pride
If I’m not proud what am I?

My understanding is an overseer
Is it over, here?
Gut instincts are what I over hear
Cracks in the ground like woven tears
Colourful dreams become monochrome pastures
Moth bitten messages of hope become wounds
Fears like unexploded mines in a crowded room become the music
Shall we dance?

Around subjects like Maypoles we can find new steps
If one foot is out of time and breath, should we stop?
Cracks in the ground for toe stubs and back rubs
The harvest is silence and shoulder shrugs
What are we lying for if they only bed bugs?
A good operating system can be its own anti virus
If the foundations are of stone and papyrus, why aren’t we purple or violet?
All these reports are defiling, weakness is defining, it’s blinding.
Give a partially sighted man a diamond, he’ll still find a way to refine it.
It takes more than shine to find the reason behind the rhyme.
We play uno until that card’s declined

We’ve got to give a joint account of cracks in the ground
If nobody’s getting high where can the fire be found?
Are we blowing smoke just to keep the peace?
Have we had a stroke?
What’s the canvas?
Have we a golden fleece to reflect a value increase?
Is one eye blinkered?
Is transition to a vision that isn’t rose tinted hindering?
Can you hear a storm tinkling,
Will you look it in the eye and wink at it
Is there really joy to be found?
Did you know there’s cracks in the ground?
Ignore them for the sake of the grace in which we are found
If nothing ever changes, potentially we’ll drown
All because we never listened for the cracks in the ground.

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La La

Lost and alone

Dog with a bone

The reflection has shaken me

Stirring my mojo into a molotov

I burn with indecision

 

Happy moments stolen like penny sweets

What am I buying?

Finding fallacies in forever

Planning orchards, cursing thorns

Am I alive until the death of a rose?

 

Turbulence framed as trivial recruiting

Meteoric melancholia manifests

Poker handshakes and chess kisses

Clandestine hope in bloom resides

Indifference wrestling lasts another round

 

Lost and alone in deeper waters

The tide of good fortune is in

Chewing all that rests before me

Standing to ponder the scale of my win

 

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Filed under Just Living, Relationships