poems

She wrote “I love you”

She wrote “I love you”

12/06/2017

She wrote I love you on his hand with her fingernail.

Traced his life line back to birth and beyond to find another him.

A him from another time in another place.

She caught him a whim because she could.

So easily with just a line, a stroke of her hand and he was hers as they both wanted, unfaltered.

They shared books in life stories, broken hearts and house warmings.

Death and loss with ghostly partings.

Holding hands where none depart.

Excalibur might hold the strength of total unity but the ground provides unwavering solidarity.

Where he was her sword she was his world.

The clocks ticked backwards and they got younger as her eyes stopped time.

Every fibre of her clothing bristled with energy, the chemical energy made manifest that he knew too well.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

I’d run

I’d run

24/06/2017

I’d run after you if I thought for a second you’d acknowledge the race.

Stick to the rules and just run in a straight line so we could meet at the end.

It doesn’t matter who wins as long as we’re beside each other and together….

Who am I kidding? You gave up ages ago, I’m running solo.

There’s three times three lanes to this and I never wanted her to have to compete let alone keep up.

We will see you at the finish line.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

 

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poems

Theme

Theme

21/06/2017

Burnt with impossibilities.

Kindled with hope.

Alight on sight.

Is that a new coat?

Edging with heat all through my legs.

A response, your voice, a conversation he begs.

Physically unable to understand the reasons for his reactions.

A week and a million hopeful desires later in a room all alone, he’d write in his diary “She wasn’t worth it”

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

Faithful words.

Faithful words.

21/06/2017

I couldn’t mind strain a sentence I just knew one after another meant I was walking.

I wouldn’t mind the laughing docks the endless hills or ticking clocks, if it wasn’t for the surprise factor.

That for the past year or so I’ve been walking north. I had no goal but knew where I was going.

I took a rest for seconds and did a map reading, eight thousand miles south it was showing.

I saw a burning bush in the distance which turned out to be a flicker of light on broken glass, from a bottle in the desert which held no water and was too dangerous to trust.

I walked with bleeding feet and aches, aches of a thousand armies until I’d had enough. It was then, then that I began to trust, not in him or me just in the total hopelessness that was my situation. I trusted it was over and that we were done.

Left arm held high holding the note, right holding a flame I torched your existance and I burnt with it.

From head to toe from foot to nose I fried complete whilst the whole world froze.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

They gazed forth and fifth.

09/06/2017

By the side of the field the row of eyes gazed forth and fifth,

taking in every first sight as second nature.

It was the third night I’d parked up close by and watched her light come on.

Third night she’d slept alone and left the T.V on.

Third night I’d known her life’s routine.

Last night that it would ever be the same.

By the side of the field the row of eyes gazed forth and fifth,

taking in every first sight as second nature.

I was early, as expected and she was swinging on the bench with a cool lemonade.

Her blonde hair bouncing gently in the evening air.

“You came” she half whispered not turning to face me, I knew the moon would be shining off her face.

I could smell our dinner cooking and to my right two candles were waiting to be lit.

I put the heavy suitcase of money on the porch and as I did I caught a scent of her perfume and the image could have been complete.

That’s when I turned left and walked away.

By the side of the field the row of eyes gazed forth and fifth,

taking in every first sight as second nature.

 

©G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

Hair today gone tomorrow

Hair today gone tomorrow

09/06/2017

She wore her hair down which would matter if I noticed, I hadn’t.

Her eyes drowned her other exquisite features.

Her perfect curves were unremarkable in comparison.

She was talking, her red lipstick was moving seductively against her teeth.

She’d bit her lip gently and I realised she was waiting for an answer.

Her teeth were snow white.

Her lips were rose red.

I uttered a noise as my voice failed in reply.

Her eyes left mine as she motioned a goodbye.

 

©G.P Williamson 2017

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