Tag: poetry

Insistent, We Breathe

Photo by Jackson Simmer on Unsplash

Wisps of darkness transcending life
Whilst dares and memories abound
Embers, are we, huddled in charcoal
Indivisible of form, just existing

We breathe, we breathe

Fissures of intermittent moonlight
Score this impermanent scene
With a harsh unarguable truth:
We are part of this universe, still

We breathe, we breathe

Ghosts of the primal no longer
Dreaming, eyes wide open
Two unlocked shadows, shackles lost
Unable to deny nature’s physics

Insistent, we breathe

The Shallows of the Heart

Photo by Joshua Sukoff on Unsplash

In the shallows of the heart swim armadas of doubts
Sails set proud against crimson storms, bows thrust forward

—

With no stars by which to navigate, no silver moons
No lighthouse lights to steer though uncertain ways

—

Here, where the ocean boils and maelstroms churn
Where sounds come in echoes, words dulled and undetailed

—

Only the strongest sailors find ways to return, to pursue
To retrace unfamiliar caverns and caves

—

To once again breach the clashing lips of indelicate speech
From which they first set sail

—

For ventricular voyages come easily to some, too easily
Whereas explorers are always pre-doomed

—

As uncertainties unravel and hesitation consumes
Whilst pursuing deeper words for Love

—

Thank you for reading

Richard

Haiku 3

Photo by Luis Galvez on Unsplash

We pour from ourselves
as raindrops blown into streams
searching out oceans

Thank you for reading

Richard

November Mists

November mists descend as a widow’s shawl

The Summer long gone, hidden

–

Tossing aside the fallen leaves

Snapping branches heavy with sorrow

–

Easing flocks into the sky, departing

Securing the waters to prevent their return

–

This is how Winter arrives uninvited, unannounced

Emerging from beyond this gloom

–

From Gaia’s last deep, clearing breath

And a possible sparkling future

–

It is welcomed in an unwelcoming way

Postponed only by our own interventions

Haiku 2

Photo by Aron Visuals on Unsplash

russet leaves falling

sundial casts no illusions

sighing from his chair

Thank you for reading

Richard

This Dark Tide

image courtesy of Lester Salmins on Unsplash.com

This Dark Tide

I concentrate, close tired eyes, breathe

Feel the air enter sinuses all of a rush

Surge down my throat like the North Wind a gorge

Pool in otherwise forgotten lungs like stagnant water

The accompanying rise and fall lifts a grumbling gut

Expands a chest with pigeonesque pomposity

It’s all fake, but proves I’m alive until sliding away

A moment. A dream. A thought. An almost.

This dark tide has infiltrated troubled shores

Revealed only by a spotlight moon, an inner eye, and sent scurrying

The clouds soon regather and it begins anew

This is the way, the looping thrum of existence

And I wonder: Is this really life

Bamboo Hearts

Photo by Takashi Hamada on Unsplash

Bamboo Hearts

This bamboo heart, strong but hollow

Lost to remote places, devoured

Gorged upon by strangers

As lost to this metal jungle

Though willingly, as I am not

Its thudding repetition deafens

Until the silence stops

Haiku 1

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Above the forest
A hummingbird surfs the blue
This lost world flooded

—

Photo by Cristian Palmer on Unsplash

Beloved

Beloved, we mourn the inevitable
As starlings waiting for the snow
Gathering together in shivering huddles
Wiping away the dew

Beloved, your loss is our loss
Like oxygen stripped from the Earth
Though now you’ll live above it
Whilst we just survive below

For Dad: we’ll miss you

Image courtesy vit p on Unsplash.com

Pain-Less

If this hurt of teeth and talons renders numb

Or slashing words and blunt-nosed answers

Tied up with twine, perhaps a handcuff, too

Fails to bring a stinging stimulus

Then what’s the point in pain, my love

If ever there was one, yes, if ever

Has it vanished, upped and left, retracted

Fluttered away on cold breaths and steam

Impaled itself upon a willow strip

Just gone. All gone. Run away forever

Left a soul in need of something suddenly pain-less