(By Gub, summer 2004, Wales)
I do recall in better times,
Facing forwards,
Not back,
Behind…
And here and there the damp
Dewed grass
Slipped sideways beneath
Our feet..
You took a stone,
Made a wish
Tucked a dream
Inside a kiss
Time moves on,
life contracts
Bone shrinks,
Minds
Impact .…
And what goes is loves
And what stays is hate
And please
Please,
don’t forget……
To shut the gate.
Rain
(By Sil, 2nd of November, 2009)
Above the entrance it is writ
For all that ever dream to visit:
Do not come too near
My dear…
Beware
This beast is hungry and scared
And will devour lover along with love
Maddened by unbearable need and despair.
Yet you have trespassed with love
Surpassed the border-line
By which un-loved is defined.
Sweet sabotage -
A threat nevertheless.
Your relentless pursuit
Drowned sorrow in
Poetry and order
Now wriggle and heave
Under love’s coat of thorns
Sticky toffee apple dipped in bitter weed.
Mouth burning?
There’s not a drop to drink
Arrogant rainmaker
Don’t you know ?
In here it won’t rain
It mustn’t rain
It never rains!
Drop. Drip.
Bloomed
By Gub, 21st of Febr 2006
You sit
You cough
And you spit
Bile back
Into the bone
Furies cannot be exiled
By proxy
Anger is dealt with
Alone
The slip of the globe
From hand to robe
Is the world passing love
Hand to the glove
Tossed from the page
History is changed
What smelt new
Once fresh
Lies discarded
On the floor
Like a teenager’s
Dress
And the forment
The fume
The tantrum
In the empty room
Becomes
The sanitary reality
Of love’s blossom
Bloomed.
I got out of my cradle
By Gub, 2006
I got out of my cradle
Today
And cried
I crawled
Pup-like
Across the floor
Sucking
Blindly
At the
Oak staved door
I mewed
I crowed
I bleeted
I fell…
Grace
Tumbled
Face
Falling
Into
The dark
Deep
Shaft
Of
The wishing well.
You woke
Stark
And stable
erect
And fine
You crept
Cat-like
Into the morning
Shrine
You washed
You watered
You drank deep
Drafts
Of the natural
Odour
Sheep in the grass.
What thoughts
Graze
What synapses
Rasp
In projection
Brushed
Dentures
In the bathroom
Glass.
You chew
You chomp
Through
English oats
Your porridge
Still congealed
On the back of your throat.
You clasp your time
You break through reason
Your back supine
On the city’s
Frisson
The clunk the clatter
Of the early train
You chuck
Emotion
Hunger
Sex
Aside
For
Vocational gain.
The cut
The scissor
Of the job’s
Sharp
Call
You’ve gone
You’ve left
Your breakfast
Dishes
A mess.
Mashed
By Gub, 17th of October, 2008
Locked in a sacred garden
We shed shoots of green and grey
Summer morning and autumn evening
Brick walls keep winter at bay
Yet ice is in natures passing
Chunks of debris crushed by the fall
Laughter stops, frozen by the rasping of
Anger caught in the craw
Alpha will find an ending
Trust will loose the day
Entropy unleashed from the fray
No, nothing lasts forever
The wind
Each second
Unstrung
Heart song
Heard
Forwards
In history
Sounds more
And more like
Something unsung
Uoy evol I
Means as much as words
Unsaid
Except as a brain tease
Without feeling
Or the heartbeat
Collapsed by dread
If the wall that we leant on
Were righteous
If the stones we laid down
Were true
If the start of the journey together
Were built with love that was new
Then the ghost that trespasses in the present
-The fox that steals in the night-
Wouldn’t kill our fledgling dream
Love spared the pain of
Solo flight.
Be careful what you fish for...
(By Gub, 9th of April 2008)
Strongly suggest you upgrade to a better model
A younger chap might be less inclined to wobble.
Better on ancillary features like teeth and hair,
Less inclined to despond, to look backwards, and to fear.
The joys of maturity are much over-rated
Youth’s camp is rightfully gated.
There are hormones and prospects in equal flow
No syringing of history, basking pathetic in the afterglow.
So set out your store, give pride and fresh skin its due
There’s halibut to catch, young trout, well just a few.
Tender salmon may lure you, may smack with surprise
That ruddy pink brightness, the light in their eyes.
The old carp, are bony, are sore with the years
Of biting and fighting of holding back tears.
A young fish will charm you will flit through the rocks
Jump Falls a plenty, bite off the end of fishing rods.
Whilst the ancient sole slips sadly, from seaweed to seabed,
A lifetime of solitary spawning and eyes in the back of his head.
Yes, be careful what you fish for…
Or all will come true – the sea, the ocean – the entire planet’s marine stew….
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