james watkin

Gold Star - 31,427 Points [james watkin] (26/4/65 / Melbourne Australia)

Biography of james watkin

Began writing poesy aged 20. Discovered Emily Dickinson 6 years later. A shy soulmate. And along with Mary Coleridge and Sara Teasdale my dearest friends in time. 'A strange thought, simply wrought'. My personal axion.

New Poems

james watkin Poems

  • A Life Is Not Lived Once
    A life is not lived once But many times over In the memory. Perusal of which read
  • Her Little Performance
  • That Gaze, Once Turned
    That gaze, once turned Smiles upon me forever. Those eyes, once burned As the stars never go out.
  • Rain's Eloquent Sorrow, Unheard When
    Rain's eloquent sorrow, unheard when Youth's surge was proceeding More impressionably wrung out of A subsequent heeding!
  • Walk Me Through...
    Walk me through these feelings. These your private grounds hurtful-stepping, moaned through. Engulfed darkly too.
  • Cliff-Top Living
    A balcony for a house! Unto freshenings, sea-voiced Itself an open window. A sensory experience!
  • Sun's Light
    In anticipation, what has been Reached out for to savour Morning-slow, in a summer's day Of an orange colour
  • The Book Of Miracles
    Lifted from the book of Miracles Set beside, what's blushed awake For those wood out of snow images A coherent picture make
  • Noise -new-
    Throwing up near distance Of neighbourhood, the limit For the degree of our Dislike of it!
  • Emily, Dead Poet Recluse
    O so late who unto this lily To admire, would stand as close. Bashful drooped, who could not, if now Step up too soft anyhow!
  • The Women Of Fashion
    Inch by inch we uncovered them. Abbreviating year by year Mode up from ankles summer-sloshed; Eve's rhythm-swirling gear.
  • That Joy, Or What's Made Visible
    That joy, or what's made visible Of a feeling's lightness Is that in grass's quick pulsing. Impacted air's brightness.
  • Behind Each Charge Of Valour
    Behind each charge of valour Undeflected off Death's stare Spirit is confessed. A shield Held up of self-luminous, scorching ware.
  • The Past
    A pleasanter air he had about him A rosier outlook The Past. Like he was always a triumph coming off; A cherry-topped repast.
All poems of james watkin » Share your comments »
›
›

PoemHunter.com Updates

A National Park

With God's white-gloved treatment were
Its artefacts layed out.
Fog-thick, He bent down through
Its museum's domed clue
For whom, erect, now do
Tread dumbfoundered about.

Even winds of their peurile
and rattling commotion

Read more »
[Report Error]