Michael Shepherd Poems

She has… had… (which
is the more appropriate word
for those who live on so lively
in one’s human memory? …)
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A poem is joined to everything,
hangs by a thought;

a poet is joined to everything,
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They've been at
my stats!

it's taken them weeks,
...

and sad, perhaps;
as of children
visited for the first time in their life
by sadness; pure sadness,
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Waking in the dream-tossed night, I knew you harmed
a thousand miles away in suffering’s dark storm;

so only love
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She’s the village’s Force For Good –
or that’s the flag she sails under;
news of distant earthquakes, floods,
famines, ethnic or other massacres
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When did you last turn the pages
of a book of poems as if it were a novel?

and how could a Poet Laureate ‘rejoice’-
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There is, it’s said, a state of joyful death,
known to the wise; and this, more realised
than that cessation of our mortal breath
beyond experience; only surmised;
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It’s said that universal single mind,
as in a flash it flowers in our individual mind,
hastens first in two directions: polar opposites,
and then and thus, duality..
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l o n e l y

on the paper, on the screen
all by itself
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