Way Lenn

Way Lenn Poems

There are question marks
That hang like hooks,
And every now and then
That dot at the end will drop
...

You wore a coat I had seldom seen, maybe twice,
But now it's like a white certainty in my mind.
We stood by that sleek and silver tram and suddenly,
On that night, it had all the frightening potential of a bullet,
...

Feather light; It sits against a
Background of dust then wood.
It will rise soon with the next breeze,
And what seems like a puff of smoke;
...

I lied.
I did not mean to but the moment took over,
And now I’m covering tracks,
Shuffling crisp leaves with my hand over where my story came.
...

So I lay my hands, flat, upturned and unhurried;
An open gesture, maybe of surrender,
Showing the absence of anything carried.
...

Stop covering up.
This blanket agreement. Cotton mouth!
I tried to speak with you today, you said something indecipherable;
Mumbled- maybe muffled words. Should I ask you again what you said?
...

It’s not the vagrant’s wearied stare that disturbs me so,
It’s my own wearied avoidance of his eyes,
Because how do you tell them ‘No’—there are too many of them.
So I rattle wearily by; Shout after me—too slow!
...

Moving away from the hearth, haven,
The joy and laughter of a weekend spent.
Ahead the fields surround the base of a mountain
Like a patched quilt and already memories of
...

We'll help you join the dots. Now there's a line,
But we want it straight and true,
Otherwise it's a messy affair.
Make it taut, pull each end, to me, to you.
...

10.

That day was sketched grey
As we walked between concrete
Dwellings, and my head cool
From rainwater but my thoughts
...

You returned a
Richer man than
When you left,
Emerging from your
...

Traffic swishes over wet roads.
The night crawlers have returned to their lairs;
They will be upset by the light that awaits them, ash-grey.
They will smoke cigarettes as if sucking the sky.
...

My mind is back at the pier;
A silver scale winks when
Brought to the light.
We felt grand there,
...

Grey against grey
Row upon row,
Obsessive order.
Single file,
...

I need to change how I’m living;
I wake up sometimes gasping for air
After too much drink,
It’s like my body wants to swallow the world
...

The Best Poem Of Way Lenn

Questions

There are question marks
That hang like hooks,
And every now and then
That dot at the end will drop
Like a penny, another thing realised.

They are often just that,
Marks, imprinted on us;
Like scars, like wrinkles
Or like rings on a tree,
The age-old questions.

Every new generation lives with these,
Watches them hang,
Sees them on their skin.
Every new generation, another ring,
Widening the circle of thought.

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