I’ve been dreaming about those woods for too longa long memory of existencedeep inside in my headI rememberlosing myself in amongst the green, brown leaves of Septembermy teenage thoughts, lost, but not forgottenthe good old days but you don’t know you’re in themSparkling eyes – they gleam through branches, either side of the pathmy spiritContinue reading “The Hills of Forever”
Tag Archives: Parisianpoetry
The Harmless Bathroom Spider
The harmless bathroom spiderLives in a crack in the wallThe harmless bathroom spider Sees nothing at allThe harmless bathroom spider Speaks but does not make a sound. Doesn’t move an inch, or cover any ground.Against the wall he can be foundSpindly legs, so delicate they break:A hammer to glassA soul to shake. Insnaring invisible bathroomContinue reading “The Harmless Bathroom Spider”
The Clampdown
You are as beautiful as I remember In the dark of red September How the fossil fuels burned Gutters churned up stinking filth Spluttering emotional wreckage Over the atmosphere of the stage Smells of ravishing blue caught up in the nest How they worked and twisted at my shore Licking my feet with a saintlyContinue reading “The Clampdown”
Greener Grass
In all colours sublime In bold mountains climb.The majesty that I bring Between such fragrant lips I sing;And sing I must just to forget Whatever my heart tells me yet; And scarce feel In case I sink I’m here, I’m real, let me think. By Sam Fawcett
Hot off the Press
A never-ending bleep of a phoneCrisp packets rustling in the corner of a roomA dry mouth coughing your favourite tuneLaughter hissing like a tortured snake.A feeling haunts your mind on your coffee breakThe squeaking of a chair and creaking floorboard.A thought was once there, now absorbedby the printer’s whirring and constant gurgling. God. This isContinue reading “Hot off the Press”
youth at a glance
Times they roll and seasons they spin, only for the land to go begging once more. the final piece of the puzzle is found, his work once more shall be done at the close of midnight. he will have what he seeks, almost a century since the last feast. flying in the ether are scurryingContinue reading “youth at a glance”
Parisian Poetry 