Tony Jolley Poems
|201.||'The Glorious Dead'||11/15/2006|
|202.||How The Moments Come||6/29/2005|
|205.||About Your Skin||7/8/2008|
|206.||Pavements And Partings||4/1/2008|
|207.||Your Call Is Important To Us [yeah, Right! ]||3/27/2009|
|208.||The Story Of A Life Lost In The Telling||5/29/2008|
|209.||Your Left Hand||5/27/2004|
|210.||(red) Indian Summer||3/17/2008|
|211.||Fire On Your Finger||10/6/2008|
Comments about Tony Jolley
The Story Of A Life Lost In The Telling
It didn’t look good, that barely recognisable reflection –
Didn’t look at all like it should.
I could barely make me out –
Appeared foreign to myself:
A stranger to all I considered and hoped I might be, might become.
I had caught me like this before
Out of the corner of my eye when I wasn’t looking
Yet always refused to pause
And enter into any painful dialogue with myself.
But not this time.
Not this time.
This time our eyes met: me and me.
The stranger looked, well… weary:
Care-worn and stooped under years of excess ...
Hot Salt Rain
Hot, salt rain pouring from my every pore,
Splashing, soaking, saturating your heaving, forest floor;
Each and every dropp shining, shaking,
Surface tension fighting for foothold
Upon unusually unstable ground,
Wracked and rent by fearsome, feral forces
Raging from the epicentre of the earthquake
Deep in the pit of you,