Oh it's so easy to say -
'Give what you think you lack -
You feel unloved? Then give love, and love, and love...'...
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
A pretty girl
is like a simile
so I'd say
I'd like to write - like grown-up poets do:
with similes that span the universe,
that sparkle, crackle, dazzle, woo the mind;
and touch the heart with tender, swoony verse...
so there you are in
your pram or kiddikarria
nicely tucked up,
being talked to in that
He — or was it she?
was a child who said little
but walked, endlessly, just looking
This is an angry poem.
About those weasel phrases
which blow like paper in the street
I love you.
That's it, really.
all there is to say.
Someone mentioned your name yesterday
and I was silent
You loved goodness, you were goodness,