Andy Brookes Poems

Well did you like it? he asked
do you want accolades, bouquets, curtain calls.

well did you like it? he asked
...

Why, he asked, can't you write happy poems?
I thought about it.... lingers still
and may do tomorrow.
because, I said, and there was no more.
...

The forth horse has me by the heels
the pale rider stares a ragged smile
cruelty is in the wind and lightening his spear
he said my name, is death and you're mine,
...

less time for masquerades.
we old actors meet and say our lines,
leave the stage and then fade.
new ones take our place. different faces same lines.
...

stealing the mirrors image merely casts a back glow, reflects no truth.
sliver lies will tarnish, blacken with age, unlike gold standard truths
no substitution in words just semantics.
...

Chains of the mind are more powerful than those of iron;
it fetters thought and slews our self image.

after all we sometimes are the sum of other peoples thoughts
...

I watched apes grooming picking nit and eating
delicate in their actions, gentle simian fingers probe and comb
finding morsels like words full juicy gobbling nutritious
hair separated by purple breath across the concentrated
...

Asphodels nod white heads like a sages against emerald green
the wind ripples its magic whispering in the trees.

so where are we you ask, is this is a secret garden?
...

wandering and wondering under the beeches which arch overhead, bare, mourning their losses which lie under foot brown desiccated husks thick with Autumn reminiscence
renewal is an option, as the buds of their brothers, wait burgeoning
in soft Spring sun awaiting birth.
...