Short poems

The war will soon be over.

The war will soon be over.

29/06/2018

Pink skies hone faces of tomorrows frights.
Come what may.
Denim skirts, rose petals on arms, ink alarms claws that animate the birth of people farms.
Small clusters of faces that grow and take shape.
Morphing to instigate a new plague war state.
Which host can we impregnate?
I speculate the war will soon be over, coffin stars as the world rolls over and everything’s born a new.
Twitching faces with pink skies in the night.
Yesterdays troubles, tomorrows fright.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Sweets at church

Sweets at church

30/05/2018

They sang in sweets and arms of welcome.

Holding laughs, a place that’s seldom.

They roped in gently, walking talks.

Tongues of murmur and none with forks.

They walk in rows, two by two.

All are welcome.

Me and you.

© G.P Williamson 2018 <—- Hit for Instagram!

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Short poems

Desire – The look.

Desire – the look.

18/05/18

She didn’t think she was sexy until she felt my mind cup her breast with a look.

I held her soul in mine with pure fingertips and sinful desire.

I smiled.

She perspired.

She didn’t think she was sexy,

she knew.

She knew I knew it too.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Tore my house down.

Tore my house down.

25/04/2018

And there we’ll go to another wedding, another baby shower, another “Isn’t this fun?” another happy hour with statue faces, airs and graces, elongated gestures and food you can’t take where nothing’s out of place and there’s nothing I want more than to scream “What a f*cking bore!”

Take me out of this race I can’t help the faces, I run backwards and trip “Just get a grip” as I cry mercy and quit because you know what? I’m not over it. I never will be. When you left you tore my house down and chewed up the foundations.

Please fly with the angels and play with the daisy’s.

Goodnight baby.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Endlessly Winking.

Endlessly winking.

05/12/17

Tonight the shutter winked endlessly, capturing your memories until you were nothing but a blur in the aura of candlelight.

I was as cold as I was warmed.

You saw through me until we were one another’s memory.

I just hope you recall as often as I do.

Sleep until the day we meet again.

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems, Short poems

Thankyou.

Thankyou.

21/06/15

If tonight you were to vanish.

A few stars would twinkle dim.

I’d ache a little piece inside.

A part of me would thin.

Bring out that shining rainbow.

Progress through all the dirt.

You are the pot of gold.

You eased many of my hurts.

Thankyou for the memories.

Bless you for the drink.

I’m honored for the chats,

and how you taught me to think.

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems, Short poems

Balloons on the water.

Balloons on the water.

06/11/17

Balloons set free like parts of the ego.

Released independently lighter and more fluid in motion,

cascading marbles drift out over the ocean.

White lights of bright daylight as the sun bites a reminder to hold tight.

This rotating cannonball in one swoop could clear us all.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

River Balloons

06/11/17

The river runs wild, tepid and tame.

The river runs open thinner and shared.

The river runs broader, wider and famed.

The river runs danger, calmer with games.

The river runs,

and it’s always the same.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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