poems

Many facets

 

Many facets

17/07/17

There’s many facets to a man’s personality.

Those we see at dusk and dawn chopping trees as the sweat trails down his palm.

Brushing hair away with the back of his hand where a bottle found his grasp.

The seconds tick by like hours on a doomed expression in the waiting room.

Eyes roll as wife moans at old chores she’d bespoke.

He laughs over beer with other blokes.

The pride in his eyes when his daughter passed her test.

The ability to keep going when he needs to rest.

Creating a family home from an empty nest.

An empty grave where he rests.

There’s many facets to a mans personality.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

No harm.

No Harm.

18/07/17

Forgetful wrath in tides of gray, a mistiness that cannot stay.

Cloudy eyes as anger rises, a thousand reds we all despise.

Beguile my youth he spits the truth appalling wretch he drawls abuse.

Clever abuse, articulate.

Comfounded.
Obtuse abuse, oval and rounded.

The people who knew it was not them,

should not be concerned nor should they be harmed so don’t fear reprisals you’ll come to no harm.

He laughed.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

 

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poems

He jokes

He jokes

18/07/17

I like the way he jokes the days away.

Odd bit of banter a lighter delay.

Delay on progression, personal growth.

Delay on my future, less days by the coast.

Delay on the workload.

Delay with his lies.

Delay by design.

Delay with your eyes.

Train a team to analyze, to memorise the peoples tide.

Growth to overcome, to populate.

To delegate a team,

Create.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

It’s Bob’s fault

It’s Bob’s fault

18/07/17

If she knew about Bob Lazar would she be intrigued?

Would space lead to a collaboration of stories weaved?

Rising like Apollo I’d lift for every occaion.

Each sweeping manifestation, a biblical revelation.

As sublime and divine as the fictional crime.

The universe may admire her beauty and that’s unquestionable.

However her brains flirted with me briefly through the darkness and the smoke.

I’m glad the visions changed and more so that I hadn’t spoke.

Somewhere beyond subconscious within reach yet untouchable.

Like Faith without the habit, A magician without a rabbit.

I am complete.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

Best ghosts ever

Best ghosts ever.

20/07/17

Interestingly she said don’t forget to be yourself, which is strange considering I was me or at least I presumed I was until she’d commented.

It was then I overthought her presence.

Fantasized about the situation and allowed my mind to run wild with unstoppable conclusions.

Illusions, falsities and make believe delusions.

Realities which could be if I believed and yet I didn’t believe.

I didn’t because I couldn’t remember who I was pretending to be.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

Tears for growth

Tears for growth

19/07/17

Forgive my stupid mouth.

The atrocities are worse than war.

Your tears could sooth a thousand armies,

Should they experiance what you’ve shed them for.

I’m sorry, words I never say and seldom feel.

Experiance as I don’t know what to say nor why at all I’m real.

Forgive my stupid mouth and with forgiveness may you heal.

My opinion is a sour crust beside the pizza top of life.

Any facts I may have spoken come with a spread of lies.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

 

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That’s not a man

That’s not a man

19/07/17

Bad mouthing – real mature.

Like the MCcoys man with a manicure and fake tan.

That’s not a real man.

That’s jelousy, I dare say it.

Admittance, that’s the stereotype of the person I wish I’d been,

Someone they’d seen, famous not just a ghost in the machine.

Write parrallels where truth’s smell and I can’t tell if I’m doing well as I slip deeper down one more step to hell.

No ego! Remove that voice.

It’s the curse that causes the hearse to reverse, back up and reverse again.

You should be the mature one.

There’s only memories of things you’ve done not photograph’s.

Each breath should be like your last.

Make it, make it last.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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