poems, Tom Orrow

Flirting (Short graphic) – Tom Orrow.

Flirting.
(Short graphic)
15th July.

You hurt me.
You flirt see.
inside my veins curtly.
Like you curtsey with a switch razor.
Chop my calves up to eat later.
Like you live for my flavour.
You hurt me.
Skin deep.
little Bo peep doing bad things to sheep.
Increasing the fleece to smother the beast.
So the caffeine increases whilst we’re on the decrease.
You hurt me.
Tom Orrow bitter taste.
Sour pork.
Dark wonder.
Poisoned heart.
Want to know more?
Let’s take a walk

© G.P Williamson 2018

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poems, Tom Orrow

Half drunk – Tom Orrow.

Half drunk – Tom Orrow.

21/05/18

I inhaled her presence as she passed me by.

Relaxation pure, intoxication knowledge of why.

Passively she catches my eye.

Rewind to another time when I’d not have to pen this beauty.

Begone the old days. I’m feeling fruity.

May conjecture pass by and her aura do me good.

May she give up and relinquish her goods.

All fickle fevers and upskirt laughs.

All’s well and good no need for silk hoods.

The ropes and the ties can stay in the trunk.

Her very existence has me half drunk.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Hell on a six inch nail.

Hell on a six inch nail.

15/03/2018

The hell I made on a bed of nails from demonic squeals to ghostly wails.

I pulled handrails a stair at a time to claim a memory that wasn’t mine.

I rode the want I desired the wonder. I caught the stars and the dust pulled me under.

I swam ashore, I breathed the earth. I felt the mud. I called you forth.

Magic fires so faint and dim.

The moonlit sky, you’re clear within.

I claim your person, wife and daughter.

I claim your soul but not your heart.

© 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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poems, Short poems

Broken twice.

Broken twice.

06/11/17

With a street view she knew the skydive fall wouldn’t be new.

She’d hold memory pockets of solid gold.

Future echo’s from when she was young.

Hopes of wonder in a land less old.

Through it all she just wanted, wanted someone to hold.

He painted the car colour across her face in a blazing skid he drove home.

Like Spiderman meets lightening jam in a corvette he free roamed.

All the while he was doing twenty in a fifty zone on a moped he stole from a broken home.

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

He is what he is.

He is what he is.

05/11/17

They complain when like a psychopath he takes what he sees and then writes to be free.

“Please don’t mention me!”

None of them can see, it’s all arbitrary.

Forgive me I’m unjust.

Programmed to distrust.

If there’s no freedom or lust, expect the end of us….

…. When the badger surmounts his own demonic doubts,

She shakes her hair out to Medusa’s old shouts,

He grabs his coat and walks out.

When she pencils him in to make eye contact once more.

Clarification of who he was once before,

Out with the candle and closed with the door.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems, Uncategorized

Universe eyes

Universe eyes

01/11/17

Their were stars in her eyes. Satellites of her mind.

One for freedom, one for love one for forgiveness and on they went tantalising and radiant.

Ever growing and ever present.

All of which shared the common energy of care.

Of all our interactions, subtle indiscretions and memorable moments the only one I recall in totality is thus.

She trembled at my touch.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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