Texte: The poets were good teachers, for they taught
Earth had this joy; but that 'twould ever be
That fortune should be perfected in me,
My heart of hope dared not engage the thought
...
I feel her touch
in the paradox of passion
her love my completeness
yet still I am broken
...
Echoes of the past calling out my name
The old times lost, and life is not the same
Distant the voices hidden in my mind
Behind closed eyes before the nightmares come
...
Clouds scatter beneath waxing moon
and her sensual fullness silently reflects
silver white in the long grasses of the wild meadow
as we listen to the breeze of late summer
...
Each night I wake in the same dream
and I scream into the darkness
I hear your footsteps
following me
...
Recalling the nights of
leather caressing leather
I held you between my thighs
as I straddle your curves
...
A breath of change as angels sing
The dreams that bring us tomorrow
I'm wearing my heart on a string
No longer caring which winds blow
...
Shattered pieces of the heart
Lie scattered at the end of love
Forever is over and now we part
...
From that first touch
before I could comprehend
the pulsating movements between our hands
as our fingers entwined
...
In dreams, there is an island
where we belong, just you and me,
and that little thing we call love
where moon is always smiling
...
If I ask you would you give me some time
A brief moment shared in rhythm and rhyme
I will not ask for any more than that
Just the merest glimpse of sweet paradise
...
Just a sock lying there
on the shattered ground
calling out to humanity
questioning the declaration
...
I'm not yours, I do not belong to you
I can not be found as I am not lost
Even though our stars are destined to cross
Our love will shine in a different hew
...
Our day has come to love beyond the night
To ride our wave against the world of fear
Give me your hand and let me draw you near
My love, come join me on the wingless flight
...
The clean shirt and denim jeans
No more in-betweens, just me
No more hiding it inside
A rough ride, but I am free
...
The Earth is dying, killed by human kind
The unkind acts of living hell
We want it all but take no time to find
The art of living safe and well
...
The storm raged around me
the prison of thunder and rain
keeping me static
never moving on
...
Once more love's kiss loosens my tongue
jiggling my senses as they clatter
in bittersweet torment
undeniable yet irritating
...
Give me your love, a man desires it all
Even though he is undeserving of
Your thought, it's to your heart he makes his call
So, standing here I say - Give me your love
...
I am a writer and poet and started writing after raising my two boys as a way of discovering just who Jez is. That is still very much an on-going project but the journey so far has introduced me to many wonderful friends and fellow writers through an ever growing love of poetry. I am a neo-formalist poet preferring to write in meter and form than free verse but I am beginning to learn to relax and let the feel and sound of words take over rather than be dictated to by rigid rules and structure. However, I will still argue that a sonnet without consistent iambic meter ain’t a sonnet and Lewis Turco’s Book of Form is never far from me. I was a moderator and contributor to the poetic forum Tir na nog, I consider it a great pleasure to have worked with Terry Clitheroe and the Tir poets to bring the wonder of poetry out of the elitist, artisan world to a wider and more global audience. I am also the author of two chapbooks and an anthology of poems. I am currently working on my second collection of poetry and a collection of sonnets in memory of the late poet Ivor Hogg I write about life, love, depression, gender identity, magic, paganism, sex, and other weird stuff that comes along. I am a trans man and writing has been the key to getting me through the hard times of that very personal journey of self. Life is a journey – go where it takes you and live it Thank you for reading me!)
Poetic View
Texte: The poets were good teachers, for they taught
Earth had this joy; but that 'twould ever be
That fortune should be perfected in me,
My heart of hope dared not engage the thought
Robert Seymour Bridges
The poets were good teachers, for they taught
Of visions unseen by the human eye
Of beauty seen beyond a simple sigh
The poets were good teachers, for they taught
Earth had this joy; but that 'twould ever be
A gift from nature's soul for all to share
Of perfection found in all that's out there
Earth had this joy; but that 'twould ever be
That fortune should be perfected in me
Even a man with an imperfect heart
Is perfected when seeing nature's art
That fortune should be perfected in me
My heart of hope dared not engage the thought
Yet still I look with a poetic view
To a world that is always fresh and new
My heart of hope dared not engage the thought