Andy Brookes Poems

He wanted to be at the top of his game
wanting to be the poets poet, at the zenith.

he wanted to be high up, a shooting star,
...

I sit at the fulcrum between faith and non.
Wondering at the undescidedness of whether there is,
or not, a greater being who exercises power over even
those with steel trap minds.
...

I pluck the string it vibrates, it is a b
a bee that fly's humming a melody of one note
she flies, for they are all female, with
her stockings filled with pollen,
...

White sheets hang as if forlorn, no wind to capture,
push out like billowing sails of an armada
to bring their flagging warp and weft to life,
to undulate and ripple.
...

Enter

Juliet in stylish balcony leap, she was but a virgin,
the jury is still out on that one.
...

Light the blue touch paper and retire,
I wait but there seems to be a problem.
Maybe its a slow burn I think,
inspiration will explode and then...
...

t
Its the best I can do, I said,
with this little snippet of heart.
this nibbled muscle that still beats,
...

sitting with old vein hands slack in laps wandering the plains of existence
deep across the void that separates youth from age.
philosophical broken synapses, messages blocked by confusion.
prayerful mediation ora simple supplication
...

I don't want to know what's a cliche
the right or words that are strong and tough
or those deemed not good enough, weak and bleak.
too rough, too off the cuff,
...

talking of rebellion she said,
as she slide down the banister,
crying Tally Ho zipping along,
a banshee.
...