Archive for ‘Dave’

October 16, 2016

MOVE ON

by Dave

Light burns dark eyes.
wrapped between breast and blanket.
A heartbeat echoes every step travelled.
Walking, stretch and yaw of creaking harness.
Fire smoke, voices, soft and warm,
others loud and argumentative.
A knee I call mother.
A hand I call father.
Music, dance and our stories.
October 6, 2016

A Goodnight Poem

by Dave
goodnight.jpg

Across the lake of Pasithea,
On the last breathe before sleep-
I spy a dark shadow nymph,
to take me to a fettered deep.

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October 3, 2016

Indelible

by Dave

She told me
in dolce voice
of  jungle folks
that peel bananas
with their toes.

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September 25, 2016

Hypocrisy of the critic

by Dave

I stand
before this
masterpiece.

Numb and
unimpressed.

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September 18, 2016

Street Crimes

by Dave

She at sixteen
is a queen of rags and red glass rubies.
Tiaras, tassels and tambourines.
beaded waistcoats and tangerine dreams.

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September 13, 2016

Love is

by Dave

 

love is not

a gentle ride,

on silver sun burnt sand

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September 2, 2016

An invitation to all you wonderful poets

by Dave

Thank you to Harry for allowing me to share this here

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September 1, 2016

City Fox

by Dave

Just a regular walk in exeter.JPG

Are you feral still?

Inside, where the light from savage amber eyes glows on dark nights.

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August 27, 2016

Do not plant your roses in this desiccated desert,

by Dave

Do not plant your roses in this desiccated desert,
they will die of frost and neglect.
Offer the pulsating womb of your garden
to the busy bumblebee, a worker with heavy knees.

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August 20, 2016

Friday writing practice.

by Dave

I couldn’t conquer straight.
Axis flipped
from dees to pees
on chalk painted lines.

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August 20, 2016

blood and lime

by Dave

the years fall
to nothing
earth stripped bare
a century and a half before

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August 10, 2016

Days of greyness.

by Dave

Misery hugs me,
a blanket of such weight
that it bows
my rounded shoulders,

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August 5, 2016

Black Sunday

by Dave

Sunshine,
a summer Sunday in Stalingrad.
The streets alive,
grids buzz with the drone
of forty thousand doomed ants.

The busy buzz of bumble bees
among the blooms on florist’s stalls
Strollers walk the promenade
along Tsaritsa’s marble wall.

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July 28, 2016

Night falls fast

by Dave

Night falls fast
as drizzle drains
the last lethargic light
from an ink and marble sky.

A woeful winter waste
of dry electric heat and light,
returns the ragged vision
of a minor moon.

The dread of dim dank
entrapped evenings
haunts the commute
home.

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July 27, 2016

Losing you

by Dave

I waste
winter’s waning days,
sorting symbols of passing.

Decks of death cards, dealt-
diamonds down
to hide your face.

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July 22, 2016

harbingers

by Dave

dove rises
across
the expanse
of grey morning sky.

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July 21, 2016

A woodland king lies dead

by Dave

A woodland king lies dead
this wicked windy day.
His length and width collapsed
in mounds of fraudulent earth

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July 19, 2016

FACEBOOK

by Dave

 

clinging to the edges

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July 9, 2016

falling (in love)​

by Dave

you pushed me 
off a cliff.

i fell 

you giggled 
as I spun, 
trapped in sheets 
of sleep. 

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July 7, 2016

The Crossing (Instant poetry just add water)

by Dave

image

Heading set,
going deep between
Howth and Poolbeg
on a path of silver shillings
tossed from a mist crowned sun.

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July 5, 2016

Twisted Miles

by Dave
Shaun

I limped the twisted miles,
whistled down the tracks
broken and decayed.

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July 5, 2016

A passing shower

by Dave

Billowing black Incandescent
cotton cloud. Building fast
between bursts
of brilliant blue,
Wind, a silent shepherd skulks
and brings them home
in breaking bunches
dashing drifts
of wispy wayward sheep.

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June 29, 2016

Selene sings an orphan to sleep (Child’s story)

by Dave

The moon pulls
the curtains wide,
no place to hide
on such a night.

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June 27, 2016

It will not rain.

by Dave

It will not rain.
The beech trees sulk,
standing still, silent and sullen,
oxygen withheld
from parched earth.

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June 27, 2016

Stop signs are for tourists

by Dave

Lank hair, accent thick
as unwashed socks
and a nose,
a metronome
that sniffed every thirty seconds,

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June 19, 2016

Dad (For the weekend that’s in it)

by Dave

drone of humming bees
song of guitars and violins
hymns of praise
all I wanted to be
in size seven
stitched shoes

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June 16, 2016

Romeo turned to stone

by Dave

Wind hews deeply,
etching eons and use
into squinting eyes.
Forehead drawn
into a pattern of
waves and lines.

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June 11, 2016

Geology

by Dave

lair by lair history exposed
in sand and shale,
clay and loam
and rock.

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