Graham Leese

Graham Leese Poems

I could sleep for trails
of silk in the wind
to carry us
through crystal sands with

Selfishly stuffing; I take the
Fat, pleasure and grease-
Convert it into vomit.

It simply doesn’t course
through my veins
power a beaten heart
prolong a broken

Humour comes at the most
inappropriate times, like
nuns trying out love beads.
Giggles, whether sly and

Outside’s Asgard blue, air cold and virile. Unseen ribbons
Tangle mid flight mid air, a brush by the thigh, shoulder.
Breath hangs like an explosion of sudden shadow except
It is silence, translucent, light. Motion slips, traffic just another

When the sky went that peculiar orange-pink

Grapefruit hue I sold all I had and ever needed,

Ironing out the creases always seems
To leave deep seated burns upon my chest;
Laying such dead to rest we let
The streetlamp glance at best.

With eased manipulation August
is now a timeless November, the
memories are altered not as you
remember. Contrast tweaked-

Wading through the tar-
It seems November has died
Of some kind of cancer.

Lurking in resin shadow, floating
In skin’s cloudspace; a distant sunset
And the shimmering ocean’s grace.

Mud begins to grow
Its skin again; the pools
Of silver reflection
Collecting like the dead

Animals started tumbling
from their shelves
the pet store’s climbing. Mountains

Foetal, white sand spreads
like salmon upstream, hoards
on the motorway. Anxiety and ample
cramps devour fish out of the waters

Rhythms sound
like that of pitter patter.Tick
tock turns to palms on the skin
of tabla. Eyes dart like

Though the stars look down on you;
Through dark subways, subterranean
Paths dissonance dissects itself in front,
In front of me and I am lone, one with

This wickers’ stacks
Of excuses, vast empires
Of bracken ready to burn
Beneath an unhealthy visage.

Your miscalculations precede you,
bright and colourful sashes twist
and twirl ‘round like barbed wire
wrapped ‘round a true love.

Graham Leese Biography Graham Leese writes to Men, Women and Godlike things. He has not tried his hand at writing for children yet. He sometimes pretends he is funny. He takes photos. He is working hard at trying to piss off clever and stupid people alike. So far he is succeeding.)

The Best Poem Of Graham Leese

Jungle High Retreat

I could sleep for trails
of silk in the wind
to carry us
through crystal sands with
nothing but stashed dreams and tinted
sunglasses, a strange blood orange stain.

The ghosts of long dead Victorians
can glow in gaslight
their children sepia like bones buried
long ago. In the hushed twilight lone sparrows
can guide me to heaven because the streams
lie stranded in the wake of angels.

Graham Leese Comments

Paul Wright 08 May 2006

I presume 'Chris Ogunlowo' is an alias, right? Anyway, I think it's about time you got the credit you deserved. Having just read your biography -never normally read those- I can see that, sure enough, you are about 18 years old. Most of your work is a cut above what most people deliver on this site. Period. There are many people here who sing their own praises on a daily basis while you go about your business quietly. Your attitude to what you do is very healthy; you keep aiming high and are resilient. Great things are in store for you if you keep refining what you do and experimenting. You are the most natural talent I have ever read on this website, bar nobody.

0 0 Reply
Chris Ogunlowo 12 April 2006

Brilliant, I love the choice of words. It's apt.

0 0 Reply
Chris Ogunlowo 12 April 2006

Brilliant, I love the language. It's apt.

0 0 Reply

Graham Leese Popularity

Graham Leese Popularity

Error Success