Short poems

Muted expressions.

Muted expressions.
01/08/2018

You never pretended to be something you’re not.
I like that, I like that a lot.
I still think you’re lying.
To yourself, to the world.
Then I would, you’re preprogrammed.
One of them, you’re a girl.
There’s a reason they’re the start of this world.
Both within rumour (all bad I’m afraid)
and then within voice and a touch I should say.
More so always in trouble, the centre of drama.
Life is a B*tch but then so is Karma.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Let yourself be free.

Let yourself be free.
29th July 2018

Let yourself be free.
Just do, just be.
Go with it.
Chill it all out.
Those fears.
Those doubts.
Big Perceptions.
Fatal memories.
It’ll happen again!
Quick! Save me!
You don’t need all that sh*t baby.
You can’t walk on water.
You’ll not always be crushed.
How will you live if you never trust?
The writer knows calligraphy in the arch and the talk.
The model knows the movement in the posture and the walk.
Let yourself be free.
© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Daisy chain my name.

Daisy chain my name.
2/08/18

I don’t want a pocket full of poseys.
I want a heartbeat in a jar.
I don’t want you wearing my skin,
But I want you not too far.
I don’t want your love creamed like a lotion,
But I’ll have you swallow ocean after ocean.
I don’t want to lay claim to fame.
I want your daisy chain to write my name.
I don’t just want those intricate lips to lay me tender.
I want to have you surrender, surrender, surrender.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems, Tom Orrow

All lies in the eyes 1 & 2. (Tom Orrow)

All lies in the eyes.
12th July 2018

They shouldn’t lie about those indelible tears they cried.
These pages wet where memory’s hide all daily worries, Tom Orrow troubles, wide eyed sorrys, drowned sorrows & eclectic poems.
You just don’t go.
You’re Baileys with porridge.
The criminal hat trick.
The faces that fit can’t despise sh*t they might be a glove but you’re cross stitch.
Parables of unique ambiguity.
I’m used to the lone wolf.
My shadow of clarity.

© G.P Williamson 2018

All lies in the eyes 2.

Lone wolf writes letters home to a girl in his mind.
Mighty fine.
Auburn hair and brown eyes she wears the perfect disguise.
Mesmerised in memory,
Tantalised in touch.
luminescent beauty.
A world he….
One sharp turn of his head and she’s gone again.
Pulled under the covers of daylight and robbery.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Name that pill.

Name that pill.

28th June 2018

It took just one pill to understand the world in totality.
The mediocre conundrum of our own sanity.
The reasons we take woman for wife.
The reasons for love.
The meaning of live.
Progression to trust, society a must.
The very reason of universe from dust.
One solitary pill concoction made from the lips of a brown eyes goddess, a robin’s last breath,
A church bells chime at a quarter to nine.
The last suppers’ last drop of wine.
A murdered womans motherhood the hands of a bludgeoned father mixed within the salty seas of another tear filled daughter.
It took just one pull to understand the world in totality.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Free ranger.

Free ranger.

26th June 2018

Summer dress all flowing and free like a hippy balling in the clear blue sea.
A nightfall sky down white cliff arms.
Slender fingers, witchcraft charms.
The damnedest creature you ever did see.
An articulate free ranger and a crazy voodoo shit queen.
Her eyes tell stories of how and why.
She lies I know the show girl has no hotel on her tongue twirl.
I know it’s rope a dope unholy spot only she’s got.
I’ve not forgotten the last time.
Still, her memory is my favourite pass time.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Megastorm.

Megastorm.

31/05/2018

If the megastorm comes and I do not wake know that I love you and you made my earth shake.

Don’t feel obliged to stay single your whole life, you’re a gorgeous woman and a perfect wife.

If the megastorm comes and I do not wake tell the girls I love them, they made my world shake.

Don’t feel obliged to let everybody in but respect your mum’s choices. You’re the honey, she’s the queen.

If the megastorm comes and I do not wake, know that true love can never, ever break.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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