I feel two feet taller today
I feel the warmth of the sun on my face
I feel the wind swirling around me,
Drawing my clothes
...
No need to count the hairs on my head;
You carefully manufactured each one.
No need to memorise the colour of my eyes; you designed their every hue.
Your seal is imprinted on my fingertips.
...
Bruised reed and and smouldering wick
The wish to die just a little bit
Beautiful darkness
Pressing me in
...
Disillusioned, Despairing
Trusting God when you can't see, feel or hear him
Though you shelter me with your wings
...
Before God penned the universe,
He planned your every day.
He sealed your name in His book,
And he'll lead you all the way.
...
Holding my heart in your hands
My life drifts through them like sand
A love that hurts, it's so raw
...
The glow of sand beneath her feet,
In flowing white, she walks along the beach.
She senses you in the glint off the ocean.
She feels you in the warmth under her feet.
...
Bare & broken, I stand before you.
My crippled and tortured body falls away.
You behold me as a child.
I see myself through your eyes;
...
Coated in a foul grime that seeps through his paper-thin exterior to pollute his soul.
An unsettling stare, that burrows below the surface of it's victim's skin and festers there.
His furrowed grin drools and spits with obscenities unleashed.
Blackened nubs in a pool of acrid saliva.
...
A starved four-letter-word,
Bruised and battered from overuse.
It's tattered pages tell a story of
Love and loss and hope and grief.
...
A bag without a handle
A flame without a candle
Life extinct in an instant
A flicker of colour
...
The station
Dusty seats on a beaten subway
Broken dreams peel off the walls
...
Clatter. Rambling.
Competing octaves, the cacophony rises over the tenor drone of private conversations.
High pitched clinking of cutlery & crockery; the soprano section.
The breathy alto has his solo as steaming coffee fills the cup.
...
Autumn Day
I feel two feet taller today
I feel the warmth of the sun on my face
I feel the wind swirling around me,
Drawing my clothes
Un-fixing my hair
On my lips, on my fingertips; alive
It is fresh and lovely
I want to stop walking and let it bend me to it's will.
Autumn day.
On a day like today, when the sky is an infinite blue and the air is fresh, a simple breath is a pleasure, fulfilling the primitive yearning of a human being, to be part of something bigger than oneself.
I'm writing a poem on anomia. I can't think of a thing to say.
Pride is like barbed wire fencing around the heart. It keeps people out. It isolates the one within. It is a hinderance to generosity. And anyone who tries to surmount it, risks getting badly injured.