Cracks of light Stones of height Laid from the deep Steam in flight On a wing-less night Lashed out on the heath Ruined wall Now not so tall Remnant of time Back we go Forward through snow Alone I file Across a moonlight mile Love is just a memory In a land of broken smilesContinue reading “L.A. Never”
Author Archives: Parisian Poetry
the ones who were left
A report came from a nearby flank that the enemy’s guns were on the move, ‘time to strike’ said our CO, ‘over the top tomorrow we shall go.’ A cold night in mid-November and still we managed warmth, our greatcoats spread out and buttoned together with others to make a vast blanket. Songs were keptContinue reading “the ones who were left”
Where the Sailboats Sing
When the roads rise with welcoming tides where the sailboats singwith parking meters and electric heaters above the tenement trimsas red brick surrounds the houses and all the people descendan early sun offers promise through the morning’s dincoming home to a brand new place where time has stood stillIn a muffled land we can seeContinue reading “Where the Sailboats Sing”
Chatterton – an ode
As high as a cloud wandering on Bristol’s towerForever will I sing his nameFruitfully brought me to his finest hourForever a great organ plays its painWill I go no more to St Mary Redcliffe?A fine repose now in a sea of modernityIn whose gothic ramparts held religious communitySang a song worth, ten men, when Chatterton’sContinue reading “Chatterton – an ode”
a day without promise
a day without promise is a day scarcely led *** i couldn’t hold back the tears i cried all the years i spent hiding inside no one can tell me what to do i’m an angel… but i’m a devil with you something skips in my mind a thousand thoughts in plain sight no matterContinue reading “a day without promise”
The Invisible World
In casts of iron there rests a manOf steely braces and wrought iron handsIncredulous – his one feature, being only referred to as a creatureMany had forsaken what was once lostAs Marley’s Ghost counts the costOf his life, swimming in sin; old Scrooge’s mind is wearing thinAlone he has been, but no more…Now the InvisibleContinue reading “The Invisible World”
Parisian Poetry 