Short poems

The Great Illusion.

The Great Illusion.
26th July 2018

Imagination the worlds greatest deceiver.
Love the worlds largest believer.
Faith, a fickle fact.
Friendship, don’t over react.
Fate, without reason perhaps.
Blue print? Don’t make me laugh.
Do pray for those days you could have made a change.
Let them know more are welcome.
They’re challenging, life changing and seldom.
This perception is our reality, internal clarity.
Taste the purity, the best, accept no less.
work smart, not hard, rest.
Duress is a test, a byproduct of stress.
This perception no less is our reality.
Speak internal clarity.

© G.P Williamson 2018

 

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Short poems

My supernatural apparition

My Supernatural apparition

08/06/2018

I’ve tried remorseful apologies.

Forgiving eulogies and bagpipes with a twenty-four gun salute.

I’ve tried candles and wire.

Our old songs and no sunshine.

A few old lines at a time with fire.

I’ve tried the demonic press, the Ouija and a thousand rounds of pure duress to the back and the head and I confess.

My love for you has beyond transgressed.

Of this leaves the deepest impression,

You’re my favourite superstition.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Synchronicity, Karma’s little b*tch.

Synchronicity, Karma’s little b*tch.

20/05/18

There was a synchronicity in the first place 28th March, two meanings on the one date.

I’d chalked it all up to fate.

Then country fiction, a dream I’d never seen coming. Had I got to awaken I’d of took off running.

All deers, foxes, rabbits and shrews.

All gorgeous greens and clear blues.

All for two days and a thankyou too.

One day I’m returning to buy you.

Then there’s you, where the bluebird sings.

I don’t know your song but your vibration lingers.

Quality is often found in the tips of your fingers.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Second guessing the special obsession.

Second guessing the special obsession.

5/5/18

Imaginary gates with blocks and breaks.

Stop barriers we fake and create.

Why do we partake in these sweet dreams that scare our progression to skeletal screams?

It’s like our obsession stops short of confession.

Our god as our faith just keeps us guessing.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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poems

Make believe in teddy bears.

Make believe in teddy bears.

21/04/18

I try to make believe you know as mad as that doth sound.

She says her teddys talk to her and I hope that you’re around.

They teach her things she tells me and so often they are right.

She wakes with deeper knowledge almost every night.

I try to make believe and there’s no way I could ever tell her.

I’m just a naive hypocrite. An innocent kind of fella.

With walls of stone in Jericho a placebo for a whim.

I only believe in facts, I’m dying here again.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

I have a little magic trick.

I have a little magic trick.

21/04/18

You speak of trust like you understand it.

As though you weaved the sheets that darned and damned it.

You etch trust on the fabric of reason yet cannot knit.

Talk to me of trust before you claim you’ll end it.

Surely you don’t think me so easily controlled.

I have a magic trick for you.

Watch closely, behold.

Closer, closer still.

Stare until it’s crystal clear.

“Poof” I click my fingers and you,

You disappear!

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

You can judge me.

You can judge me.

16/04/18

They’ll never say I never spoke my mind.

Might say they werent shown the best of kindness perhaps.

I didn’t remain silent enough or some other reason for deprecation but they’ll never say they didn’t know me.

Honesty is praised in some circles, usually in those where people can handle the truth.

Where positive changes are made.

Where direction is born and determination flows.

Where praise and commitment both start with you.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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