Poetry

The Sun, Moon and Stars

The sun, moon and stars seem further away than before,

I'm not sure if they have moved from me or me from them,

Perhaps we are the same as always,

I just have one day less to reach them.

On the Train

Sleeping eyes,

Covered thighs,

Naked trees waltz in front of the sky's blue haze,

With celestial shafts of light patterning the carved country-side,

Inside, bottles of water and mobile phones,

Skin generously covering bones.

Dry Skin, Winter

Bring my coat, I'm feeling cold,

Bring my moisturiser, I'm feeling old,

If you can bear my eyes upon your face for the rest of the day

I shall be happy,

So long as you don't look upon mine.

Windmill

Wow, I've just seen a windmill,

Perched upon a hill,

Although it's windy its sails are still,

Strange how modes of generating energy go in and out of favour.

Pigeons

Look at that beautiful pigeon,

With it's exquisitely coloured oily green and turquoise head,

Sitting proud upon my garden shed,

It's plump grey body upon tiny legs,

Lovely little beak and winking eyes,

Oh, but now there's ten, now a hundred, now a thousand,

Aren’t they horrible,

Where did they all come from,

There didn't used to be this many,

Causing all this trouble,

Like winged rats all in a huddle,

I wish they would all go away,

Except my pretty pigeon,

That one can stay.

Wine

If you're going to drink be a wino,

It's far more sophisticated that’s no lie,

If you come around we could give it a try,

Drink it down and you can touch the sky,

Drink it down and; do you want some pie?

In a Hotel Bar

What beautiful eyes fall into mine,

What beautiful waist caresses my hand,

What beautiful kiss I want to rest on her lips,

And all this unknowing, she asks for a poem.