Every time I let out a sigh,
I begin to see little birds fly.
Yet, I can catch one if I move quick.
Or is it about choosing one to pick?
Too late! My chance has gone.
Now there is night where the sun shone.
If they were dozing by day and sleeping at nightfall…
I’d just pick one up and then I’d walk tall.
But no, awake, and with wings they fly.
Every time I let out a sigh.
What goes on behind a stare?
I don’t know but it’s hardly fair,
To blame me for your lousy mood.
I just can’t help looking at you.
What can I do to cheer you up?
Should I smile at you as I look?
It occurs to me that you are free.
So help me see what puzzles thee.
Once I knew a girl whose hair was curled.
Kind and smiled like she owned the world.
But she only made me bitter and twisted.
Like an ale mixed with lemons or something…
Write: wrong or left.
Wrong or left. I wrote.
The ramblings of a so called addled brain.
Controlled by medication not to go insane.
You have good looks and knowledge deep.
Counts for nothing when you’re asleep.
Certain that there’s no perfection. Things seem mundane.
In the absence of this, there’s a aroma so sweet. These things from the void light up his face. The light, the everlasting glow. The love, the fountain of original gifts.
So remember Miss, when he approaches the lamppost, he cannot decide which way to walk around. He’s stood, just waiting.
I saw a photo of someone and I want to smoke a cigarette with her,
just her, just because…
Well because… She looked lonely as me, she was a pea in a bowl trapped under cling film, I was a glimpse – an image, a moment in time, seemingly screaming alone in an unspent void!
I don’t even smoke anymore.
Take a seat, I’ll be your chair for this evening.
Tired, it won’t be long before you’re leaving.
Take some heat, I’m highly strung tonight.
Giving off warmth, you might, just might, just might pluck my branches until tomorrow afternoon. So let’s fight!
Tomorrow afternoon, we can play and have a sight of the sea, draw the rocks on the beach, weigh up options, how much balance does it take to say thanks for being a snapshot.
Lass, you move differently to how I guessed, but you leave me shaking, dissecting truth from my words, you are everything I need. Of course you might never know if the mirrors aren’t set up well. If the angles are wrong and the camera isn’t set.
I like pencils and pens,
writing materials and paper.
Lions and tigers,
cheetahs and leopards.
I like jumping and puddles,
getting muddled and confused.
Plants and flowers,
flour and bread.
I like eyes and ears,
sensing life and feelings.
Thinking and reversing,
negative photos and drawings.
The first time I saw you. Your face said bring down the monarchy. It said we could live in a world of equality where we need not worry about war. It said disarm all nuclear weapons and spread joy to the disadvantaged. It said meow. You were a cat.
A long drought in winter.
A fly trapped between two panes of glass.
An unlit fire.
A ghost of a forgotten person.
A sea lion.
A very vivid memory of a lampshade.