Journey of Words

Tag: Poetry

  • on autumn

    late arrivalearly exityou’ve left your old clothesstrewn on the streetand forgottento shut the doorbehind youthere’s a terrible draughtbut thanksfor dropping by ~ CLP 03 →

  • on light

    night time but not darkcity subverts day’s rhythymbody clocks changes ~ CLP 03/12/2021 →

  • winding

    whipping, whistling, slipping through the bedroom windowtugging the curtainatonal melodysinging over the clumsy beat of a one pound clockunlatching the doorclicking it closedsucking it openpushing it shutshushing the birch leaves off scratchy branchescrashing something down the streetsomething not fragilesomething not meant to be quite so temporarysomething broken ~ CLP 01/12/2021 →

  • on time

    we would jump on boardbe in Paris in three hoursjust catch memories ~ n.b. Time was when the passing Eurostar was a symbol of freedom, opportunity and hope. Now it is simply a relic of days when Europe was a place we shared with our Continental cousins, a symbol of loss. CLP 30/1/2021 →

  • on light

    all this light aboutto be blocked off, deflectedits time to rise up ~ n.b. This medieval city is inexorably being squashed by property developers and a city council happy to see the skyline of church towers and steeples disappear behind a curtain wall of concrete, steel and glass. CLP 29/11/2021 →

  • on time

    polite conventionsour coping mechanismsmerely scaffolding ~ n.b. What has form, seems solid, does the job for now, is nothing without foundations. Nuts and bolts rust, we need cement to build tomorrows. CLP 28/11/2021 →

  • on waking

    another morningnot enough hours to enjoyall I’ve been blessed with ~ n.b. Starting with a heartbeat. In fond memory of Moira. CLP 27/11/2021 →

  • on possessions

    we can own nothingall become”personal effects”our time is borrowed ~ CLP 26/11/2021 →

  • on low

    emotionallydrained to point of exhaustionget back on the bike~ n.b. Or the horse, if that‘s your thing. CLP 25/11/2021 →

  • on Reception

    copier repairman career change to motelno two days the same ~ n.b. Stopped for a very late night keep-myself-awake-on-the-drive-home cup of tea at a motel in The Fens, heard a life story from boy soldier to village brass band. Classic! Nice one Dale. →