Richard Burgess Poems

Two hearts meet beneath the cold city,
They beat together, an intricate mix.
Lost for that moment in each other over coffee swirls,
The golden leaves fall against the grey-blue backdrop
...

To what end is our existence?
A void placing us as an interlude marker in the great curtain of night,
A sand-grain on the beach
or a water droplet in a vast ocean on a stormy day?
...

Tell me of your stories old,
And I'll sing to you a new song,
Take your shoes, walk with me,
For I don't know what it is you see?
...

If these steps could talk, would they reveal the spirit?
Would they support intuition?
What evidence of crime?
The conveyance of fear?
...

Tell me of your stories old,
And I'll sing to you a new song,
Take your shoes, walk with me,
For I don't know what it is you see?
...

Oh Ryanair, oh Ryanair!
About your service I despair!
At check-in time you're never there,
Excuse is always ‘In the air'!
...

If all the clouds fell into pale,
And spread their erstwhile gloom aside,
As to the soul uplifted,
With removal of pride.
...

The big wheel turns and we are advanced!
Toward what end?
To a conclusion or a new beginning?
Toward disappointment or a new song?
...

What becomes of tomorrow, once the look of love has gone?
What becomes of tomorrow, once your origin has dispersed to the omega?
What becomes of tomorrow, when your protector can no longer protect you?
What becomes of tomorrow when your counsel is with their counsellor?
...

I saw a bloke the other day jogging down my street,
Not a wholly active chap but one I'd like to meet.
I stopped him in his tracks to talk and he began to stutter,
I said "Mate, give up this gig, you look a total nutter"
...