Biography of Jerry Pike
Jerry Pike Poems
A Late Bird
A late bird, your song flutters, heart to heart. I see notes hanging from telephone wires, then falling softly into the deep grass. And I lay there, staring out of this world,
And I Will Whisper
And I will whisper in your ear, most any wish you’d like to hear,
A Life In The Day
A Life In The Day Up before the pride sets in, darkness crawls and twists, devils of the mind erupt, bind you by the wrists.
I cried the stars that lit no sky I poured my heart like sand I watched from balconies of hope as smiles seeped through my hand
Don'T Fall In Love
Don't fall in love with no one for no one hurts like hell, their touch is nonexistent their aura blind as well.
The seagulls caught me, counting my curses like a dead man, talking in mental replies
I Think I Am Close
I think I am close, but I am far away, not miles, but mental continents.
He buys the weekly cake, slices, and shelves it in the lonely fridge.
The map to small escapes seems too folded, too tightly folded. I prise a blunt pleat, see a green road, a blue curling streak, more green, then a mile of coast. Those old Hessian maps,
Come stand here, by the Peachey stone, atop this screaming hill, enchant yourself in memories, imbibe yourself in thrill,
He meant to say a thank you, but forgot, one small neglect of duty sparsely fell,
A month from now, slow roads will heave, under bulging holiday tyres,
A Film Star In Babylon
Half covering your face, you approach, shamelessly ashamed. Thin, pale by moon, with loose blonde curls.
Nutter I wonder just what happened to that strange kid at our school, the one whose voice had never cracked, the one who played the fool.
Frozen in a field of time, grazing grass esteem,
blue boys out to play awhile, Wormwood Scrubs us clean,
smiling for that camera shot, celluloid pretence,
prisoners to Sunday's cool, praying time relents.
Stories when, so long ago, football stole my heart,
every waking weekend friend, crammed into a park,