A man under the bridge
Staring at cusped hands
Holding his piece of the river
Seeping slowly through
...
When your heart is lost
I will be your world map
and take you to the top
...
I tell him it's a numbers game
And complain for always
Doing the 'dirty work'
...
the silent night
street is lit by
apartmental romances
and fading echoes of
...
slumbering inches
away from the
neonlit tonic offering
little repose
...
Immediately following a Tony Robbins seminar, Paul achieved greatness in his own mind. Prior to that he was searching for the perfect spaghetti dish, he once came pretty close but his dog ate the recipe and has never been since able to recreate his 'tomatized noodles' as he likes to call it. After this he became obsessed with the meaning of life instead, or more accurately, the meaning of death. According to his yogi, who also taught yoga, finding the answer to this was a worthy cause. Incidentally Paul also discovered it be to be a great ice breaker, especially when waiting in long queues. Asking questions such as 'do you have a tissue as I have an irreversibly contagious form of mad cow coughing' does wonders in getting you ahead of a line. After having delved into astrology, astronomy and asses in general, he has now discovered poetry is a wonderful little time waster. Analogous to a shot of caffeine that kicks your balls briefly before making you really tired.)
Another Love Poem
For what is said
Has been said
Words are for books
Deeds prove nothing
Unless witnessed
By the heart
Pain will remind you
Where you belong
When I utter
Once more
I love you
You will fold
In my arms
Home at last
Nomi, I totally relate to your writing - as a schoolboy with dyslexia I well recall what peer group ridicule and sitting at back of the class is all about. However, I believe it made both of us stronger in the long term. Good to meet you. Best regards, Jerry Hughes
a love lost is a love indeed
To live is to live
Yea I wanna see the world for free But I don't like what I see
colourful wings of poetry, i enjoy much.