Short poems

Over complicate.

Overcomplicate.
8th August 2018

It’s amazing how we over complicate matters.
By we I mean me not I or us but a whole, a complete mess of riddles and atoms and cells that wiggle and jiggle whilst everything vibrates and moves as a conscious entity, a living breathing, pulsating society.
A multiverse, universe, planetary cycle.

A membrane with a brain we can’t recycle.
It’s amazing how we over complicate matters or matter.
How hopes and dreams shatter, collide and combust grow wings and earn trust.
It’s most overcomplicated for what amounts to “us”.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Dreadlocks and muscle.

Dreadlocks and muscle.
29th July 2018

It’s in the dreadlocks high.
The darkest night, your eyes my sky.
Your body plumes, the muscles ripple.
Tender touches, strong. I’m fickle.
Cascading momentum I’ll keep stone.
I’ll bite my lip until you’re done.
Finished, over, complete and spent.
Sweat on arched backs, the river went.
Darkest dreadlocks laying bare.
Ropes of mercy.
Ropes of care.
© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

I’m still here.

I’m still there.
29/07/18

I love how I can simply reach through the screen and run my finger down your chest to let you know I’m still here.
In your mind.
Beside your side.
When you need to hide or the kind when you have to look behind.
That’s what was.
Not what’s here, reach out, don’t stop.
You’ll see me softly behind if you look long enough through a mirror.
The hazy apparition still holding your hand.
That chance encounter you’d not planned.
A memory of potential you’d dare not which believe.
Crazy in our faith.
Then we don’t have Christmas eve?
Call it ESP, telepathy, call it astral travel.
It’s all the same to me.
How I can simply be.
How I can simply be.
© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Don’t forget the water.

Don’t forget the water.
29/07/18

Forgive me father for I don’t believe in the peacefulness and serenity of family.
Have you heard mine?
I don’t believe it all happens in time.
Forgive me for unrhyming lines.
Peppermint pomegranate.
“Daddy can we make the biggest flower ever today?”
The blues immediately washed away.
“What do you mean baby?”
“Well, we plant a seed under the ground and it grows today and really, biggest one ever! Shines down on all the world!”
I laughed. “Okay baby”
“Daddy, don’t forget the water!”
She’s right you know.
I forgot the water.

© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

Bubbles.

Bubbles.
26/06/18

It bubbles and brews when unreleased.
It angers and darkens.
The pressure increased.
I snap and churn, start to burn.
Throw fuel on fires I years unlearned.
I will be heard.
I’ll smile at teased.
Don’t prod the wolf.
He may bare teeth.
You’ve not seen what lies beneath.
It bubbles and brews when unreleased.
© G.P Williamson 2018

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Short poems

It’s time.

It’s time.
28/07/2018

It’s time.
She gave the okay.
This book thing, this nuance, this idea,
It’s going all the way.
Cover to cover we’ll cry you, tire you, arch your back and perspire you.
Motivational speaking, we’ll hire you and you know,
It’ll pass muster too.
Because if I can do it – you can too!

© G.P Williamson 2018 < Hit for Instagram.

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