Clive Culverhouse Poems

acorns and leaves
make up his mind too
as foliage entwines ours
like bridges,
...

he's a treadmill
living palindromic days
real time
which doesn't help
...

sometimes
misconstrued
in a fluorescent grove
where malachite petals
...

deep within us is the truth
answers to eternity
subtle simmering poetry
steam from bubbles lovingly
...

I followed the path because I recognised it
as the path that followed me
sunlight made the pebbles paler
as I made them darker like a shadow
...

quick sight… caught
a creamy, frothy tail
skulking behind bins
caramel
...

sun tanned unevenly, foxed
grimy fingers caress bruising
pounded by day's narration
churlish in onyx, was its hint
...

life over the leg
of an old salt; a trip
reminiscent of waves
the wood carved,
...

poets, the evergreens,
their poems, the word
gospels that didn't make
the big book like
...

I once stepped outside
and realised I was still inside
but shoes instead of skin,
no breeze, it took a while
...