Arthur H Rowley
Arthur H Rowley Poems
She tells me
‘the issue is I am too eager to save myself'
perturbed, I pull poems of woe
in the darkness
...
She tells me of the boy she almost married,
she is older than me but not by much
we sit in her car
beneath the rainfall that finally broke the heat
...
I've spent a lot of time missing your home recently
and all the ways in which it becomes you
or rather you became it
considering it was there to welcome you into this world
...
Have you ever noticed how sometimes
If you're really still and patient and good at holding your breath
You can lay flat beneath the water in your bathtub until it appears like the surface is perfectly still?
...
It has been a decade of this, yet I am thinking about it again
My house has no electricity now so I know that upon my arrival to my bedroom
The silence will begin to swallow me like the whale in Pinocchio
Mouth wide and warm and welcoming
...
Whenever you think you have ended life as we know it
I can offer this:
although it has been a burden
...
I spent years imitating cruelty in the name of personal growth,
and yet this mind still shames its own audacity
for having allowed this pain to create a kindness out of me.
...
I was happy then, I think
although it was messy
and the memories it left are fuzzy at best
...
There were darker times than this, I know
when the heavens poured white wine
down the throats of men who claimed me
when Hades pulled porcupine quills from my open wounds
...
The night sky's clear, here, where I'll go
and eastward wind is known to blow
this cliff face where I find my thoughts
belongs to us, my love, my foe
...
I am deserving, now, of little comfort
I have chaos to cause
all I am yet to commit is a cruelty
I shall induce pain on those I love
...
I think from years collecting these moments
these memories and stories
and allowing them to take parts of me
I have lost the soft
...
Perhaps I became a writer
because I have little to offer this world
all dead weight
sleepless nights
...
I have written a lot recently
about the cruelty I am becoming
the loss of the soft
the wilted beast inside me
...
Does your light neglect to glow,
And cast a shadow from my form,
For waves which you propose to tow,
Hath left me lonely, harsh, and torn?
...
This body, in whatever state I've found it
deserves to be known
to be loved entirely and without negotiation
...
If I reach the end, dear Life, know this
summer taught me how to kiss
her rays lay soft upon my skin
a warmth those such as us may miss
...
I remember a time, less than fondly,
when I cried on my mother's shoulders
plagued by ill heath and the weight of my senses
...
The night has fallen, as is it's cruel tendency,
once again sleep is alluding me
so I fill the emptiness with anything I can find
plans for tomorrow
...
It is the yawning morning of December
and I have started the pills again
the doctor reminded me, not unkindly,
that life is difficult for everyone
...
Arthur H Rowley Biography
A lot of my work has dark themes, the origins of which are not important. What is important is that somebody else will read my work and see themselves or their past in it. I encourage you to enjoy my work entirely selfishly. Predominantly free verse, some stanza, even a few sonnets.)
The Best Poem Of Arthur H Rowley
Phoenix, Blue Dress
She tells me
‘the issue is I am too eager to save myself'
perturbed, I pull poems of woe
in the darkness
she finds herself watching me sleep once again
and I find,
while listening,
that this is where her plot hides
tells me
‘I have created a black hole
to pull myself into'
‘I cannot afford to be the creator
of another's grief'
she is gone now, and I often think
of whether she would have left me with that tale
had she known me to be listening
or if she waited for a writer's ears to appear deaf
and could not bear to delve any further
lest the fact be unsavoury
or, perhaps, if I was never meant to not be listening at all.
Arthur H Rowley Comments
I implore anyone who can be moved by words alone to read and continue to follow Mr Rowley and their journey into the darker aspects of life, for you will enjoy his works and will indeed find yourself contained somewhere within them.
There are those little moments which connect you to the writer and make you want to reach out and weep into each others arms over those moments of anguish and find solitude in a shared pain, even if you have not exactly experienced the instance in question.
The poems Mr Rowley writes are truly beautiful to read, i am not often brought to tears, unless i am emotionally invested, Mr Rowleys' writing style pulls you in and makes you feel every expression of grief and sadness, but also makes you feel elated at those rare instances of joy and peace, you cannot help but, as he puts it see yourself or your past in it, i have felt this way with many instances mentioned in his poems such as Soft speak on the Radio and What they mean to ask”.
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4/25/2024 12:02:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Thank you Arthur for writing and sharing these poems, though the themes of most may be sad, there is still joy to be found reading such elegant and expressive writings. Thank you