Tony M Walton
Tony M Walton Poems
|1.||5: 07 Pm At Coconut Joes Bar||4/7/2013|
|2.||After A Confidential Word With The Concierge||4/7/2013|
|4.||After They Left||6/20/2013|
|5.||Indentation In The Female Psyche||8/10/2013|
|6.||A Couple On A Sunday Drive||8/10/2013|
|7.||The Real Culprit In The Matter Of Love||12/29/2013|
|8.||Drinking Red Wine On The Beach This Night||12/29/2013|
|9.||Today's Agenda: Sieze The Day||3/23/2014|
|10.||The Dark Matter Of Graduation||3/30/2014|
|13.||Punching The Moon||8/10/2013|
|14.||To Hell With Edgar Allen Poe, Sylvia Plath And Rothko!||12/29/2013|
|15.||Coloring Inside The Lines||8/10/2013|
|16.||On Thursday Morning 3: 55 Am||2/17/2014|
|17.||11 Months In London||3/15/2014|
On Thursday Morning 3: 55 Am
There lies One whose Name is writ in Water'
john Keats (1795-1821)
Lying here imagining what would happen if
we wound back to that Time and Place and
met all over again?
And you knew it was me
I knew it was you.
Sure, it's a worn hypothetical but
pictures don't come down easy from the wall.
Would we talk about why it didn't work?
I doubt it, for we are not yet wise enough
to speak of such matters.
We are younger, slimmer, less gray -
which, and it must be said, is akin to
gaining your sight back - only better. ...
11 Months In London
As I turn left off Oxford Street
cloaked in a low sky and shuffling
along with the other furrowed brows
I search for the accents of my youth
“Tomato” or “Tomahto” or “Tomata.”
“Aunt” or “Ant” or “Auntie”
Punching my cold fists into a