Short poems

Here again.

Here again.

27/05/18

we’re here again for the times ten of last of this game again.

It’s the same shameful unexciting din.

The same “what’s happened?” veil is wearing thin.

Our true colours shine through.

In the first lightening bolt we could all be over.

Would it add the electricity we both need?

Perhaps it would be free.

I don’t know, come walk in the rain with me.

© G.P Williamson 2018

 

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Short poems

Blood red

Blood red.

26/04/18

Epic fail all hail the blood red rain of regret and raise a glass to another disaster, another broken promise.

A regret filled plaster. A suture for a septic would I can’t help but to pick.

It won’t happen again he says scratching away at the scab.

Lets get drunk and fight the night away.

In the morning we can think of reasons to stay.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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poems

I’m not sure.

I’m not sure.

16/04/18

I’m not sure why the wind blew in the wrong direction to our beautiful collaboration.

But I’m glad we saw it, caught it and blew honey all over it.

Glad for the sticky paw, no more wars, cornier than thou consortium applause.

Glad for the all fours, knee’s sore back how we were before, outlaws.

I’m not sure why the wind blew in the wrong direction to our beautiful collaboration but without hesitation I appreciate our indescretion.

I’m glad we saw it, caught it and chucked it back in the pulpit.

Both the victims and the culprits.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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poems

Like protestors.

Like protestors.

31/03/2018

They rally like protestors trying to help.

Immediate response now they won’t relent.

Keep coming, pushing, tearing down walls.

Pull her apart piece together the brick.

Unstitch the weaving and reclip the fits.

Reconnect the piping, clear all the tubes.

Polish her eyes to rub away the blues.

Cream and wax her fingers.

Give me back her touch.

Calm down her voice.

Give her back that love.

Titanium her spine.

Her strength was divine.

Open up her ears like dinner with wine.

Crimson her lips and darken her eyes.

Hear all my truths and tell me your lies.

Lay here until the sobbing stops and wipe the years away.

More than just a temporary fix to keep the pain at bay.

Who could ever know how much is too much to take?

They rally like protestors trying to help.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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poems

Down

Down

29/03/2018

It’s time to burn it down.

Choked up dark clouds.

Foundation falling around like quadriplegic jelly.

A place I used to stand.

An oath of unity – Profound.

The next square in a new turn around – circular dependence.

Eternity in a ring.

I’m not sure I’m ready for that level of depression to sing.

Worse case in a bad state is sob stories are out.

So’s swearing.

So that murderous shit I wrote is too late.

Turn around and start again.

Four years – that’s some bad fate.

© G.P Williamson 2018

 

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poems

Kites and Ghosts

Kites and Ghosts.

23/03/2018

I stopped writing when we went to war.

Did battle day and night.

Stopped writing when the weather died.

The kite she dropped mid flight.

Red and sturdy on a backdrop of grey. She dropped to the earth, with a clatter she lay.

Still by the sidewalk in the middle of the road.

What had I done? How you would I hold?

They vanished in my minds eyes as reminders of my life.

Hollow little ghosts with a hollow little wife.

I could talk but couldn’t see.

My fingers through thin air.

I could listen, couldn’t hear like a cloud kissing a bear.

I fused a tangled daydream with the memory of a kiss.

Tied a noose of solitude and kissed goodbye to this.

How I stopped writing when we went to war.

The soldiers all heroic.

How I silenced the horns, the bugles won’t play, all broken, empty, stoic.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Just Stay (Short)

 Just stay (Short)

14th February 2018

Just stay.

Stay out of the way.

Arguments come, they go.

Relationships fray.

Just stay.

Uneven carpets in uneven halls.

Cracks in broken, damaged walls.

Foundations strong, the cobbles sore.

Just stay.

Stay out of the way.

From eternity, just stay.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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