Today feels blah
Birds chirp
blah blah
People in the office
on the phone
blah blah blah
As usual
customers complain
blah blah blah blah
Needless to say
I don’t give a blah
blah blah
blah
Meh…
Today feels blah
Birds chirp
blah blah
People in the office
on the phone
blah blah blah
As usual
customers complain
blah blah blah blah
Needless to say
I don’t give a blah
blah blah
blah
Meh…
Who does grass
more justice than him
We all casually think
they are green
Under Vincent’s brush
they are fireworks
hidden in plain shells
In vibrant hues
and starbursts
we are awestruck
by his aesthetic launch
Today is Monday
I squeez in a day off
to watch the tree
outside my window
swing and swagger along
the April sun
in her multi coloured
fringe mini skirt
She dazzles me with her
captivating performance
My morning sickle moon eyes
roused by her light
She is more energising
and invigorating
than my morning coffee
Yet much more hynotising
I slide back underneath
my comfy blanket
thinking of
dreaming more
This piece is written inspired by Autumn’s arrival. I wrote Autumn as the bride, and I am the jealous wedding crasher.
The church bell rings
My heart skips a beat
The vision of you
in all your splendour
turns my blushing cheeks
into specks of dirt
beneath your feet
for flower girls to sit on
around the hem
of your bridal gown
I cannot bear the sight
of your groom
takes your hand
and the glow
reflected off of his eyes
I swear
I want to be the blizzard
to blow off your wedding
and kidnap you
into my avalanche
of love
Her cautious and timid nature
finds it hard to cope with
his frequently frivolous,
facetious and flippant comments
She is hesitant to retaliate
instead
she nervously hides her fear
acts out in a skittish way
especially at the dinner table
clumsy, she is the one to blame
Nap time is when she eases up
grazing in the kitchen all afternoon
while he lounges in the sun in deep sleep
Evening comes
He is full of energy again
and ready to pounce on her
There is no escape
from dusk to dawn
Maybe
that's how she gets her red eyes
I dreamt of the pomegranate ring
garnet seeds matted in bronze husk
passion blood dripping off a skull
full of ruby stars in a velvet sky
I whispered your long lost name
to the bottom of the ebony lake
distant sighs echoed in my head
crushed crimson pervaded my vision
She escaped from the heated discussion
into the pool of quiet and calm water.
This was the only place in the house
where crying kids couldn’t find her,
hungry pets left her alone,
aggressive personality didn’t faze her
on that 5°c winter night.
The Autumn sun caresses her skin
in waves of flirtatious heat.
She finds it to be more sensual
and alluring than the Summer passion.
This piece is inspired by Baker’s Introduction Poem
The meetings
The idealists
Oh how annoying
Hands waving
Pick me, me , me
Machine gun firing ideas
Who is gonna get down
and carry out the plan
And who will pick up the pieces
scattered around the finish line
At least
I have control over poetry
I started one
and I definately finish it
Even sometimes it reads rubbish
I may not get recognised for brilliance
I certainly get a medal for persistence
I ranted
like bursting a pimple
What a relief
Feeling, you fickle little thing!
How did you deceive a heart so strong to break?
How did you hide from the mountain of sadness
to portrait such a bright grin
each and every day?
How much do you give out to the world to see?
How long do you want to stay behind the bars
of your own tangled web?
Feeling, I thought you were my watch tower.
And you truned out to be the red flags
that I couldn’t see.