Mark Heathcote Poems

Breath of life; let me follow.
Whatever misfortunes suspend
Breath of life; let me follow.
Where you begin, you end.
...

There are times I want to climb mountains.
And walk through mauve flowering heather bells.
Sometimes, I can't find any happy outcomes.
A ghost walks beside me; nothing repels it.
...

Love is a thankless-task
love is giving
love is receiving, whatever comes to pass?
Love is acceptance
...

When did his focus on life
Turn to death as though,
Annulled—there wasn't a drop left.
Lungs like two emptied bagpipes
...

Why is it that a ghost keeps his clothes his shackles on?
Is it even when we're dead we're still imprisoned
why is it that a ghost walks through walls isn't free
is it even when we're good or bad, we are all alone?
...

Winter-like mildew seeps into my soul
I, long for log fires, early nights.
Toes curled in the mattress foam
and the taste of brandy on her tongue.
...

Her eyes they're quite centrally placed
And remain focused on the present
And nothing looks to escape her view.
...

If I kiss you, it will be biblical
the world shall forever remember you
for when poets speak gushingly poetical
about their love, their words indeed accrue:
...

If I could soar above all my inherent problems
And fly like an eagle where should I nest
Every place I would seek to rest has problems
The wind is either too strong-or-light
...

Sow a silken thread through my soul
glue and heel it like a well-worn shoe.
Wear down this sole till it leaks
then holding my heart squelching close
...