Graham Leese Poems
- Dinner Talk. Selfishly stuffing; I take the Fat, pleasure ...
- Jungle High Retreat I could sleep for trails of silk in the ...
- Ophelia's Drowning It simply doesn’t course through my ...
- Beyond The Furniture. Outside’s Asgard blue, air cold and ...
- Two Elephants Fall Off A Cliff Humour comes at the ...
- The Boats Come In. Animals started tumbling from their ...
- Sleeping Rough Mud begins to grow Its skin again; the ...
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. more »
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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.