A Warm Lipped Westerly
I am madly alive today,
one has to get mad not to be dead.
I wander out,
wending through myself
allowing the warm west wind
kiss the thin ice of a low mood.
Smiles light up my gladding blood,
clouds scud.
I take the bright light
in the field rabbits' eyes,
to set fire to my own sight.
I must give praise to whatever,
I see it
...
Continue reading...
Categories:
westerly, poetry,
Form: Free verse
South Westerly
A south westerly buffeted the house
all night, howling at the windows,
trying to find something loose
to lift up and rip away.
Then the rain hardened to hail
bruising early summer growth
with icy shot.
I like laying in bed
listening to rain but this was
no soft patter, no gentle sedative
to send one to sleep.
This was rage, broken
...
Continue reading...
Categories:
westerly, storm,
Form: Free verse
A North-Westerly Town
A North Westerly town
It was an okay town when you got to know the place
a well-lit main road a hospital in one end and the docks
at the other end.
it was equality sat in system everyone had the right to a small
house made of bricks, this led to a maze of housing with roads
so
...
Continue reading...
Categories:
westerly, allusion, child, chocolate, confidence,
Form: Blank verse
Westerly Far Birds
Let us take you up then
Where litanies of darkness mount the sun
Rest us on the magic night, bleakest evil oars
Arid pair of sleepy rebels float, limbs and root
Pretending what we are, reversed dreams of fields
Open as the window that is life, or so it seems
Hear the whish of mindful trees and zombie bark
Let us take
...
Continue reading...
Categories:
westerly, senses,
Form: Blank verse
The South Westerly
Oh! for the wet warm South Westerly
after the cold white North Easterly leaving
...
Continue reading...
Categories:
westerly, winter, rain, snow, rain,
Form: Free verse
Westerly Winds
The saddest thing about poetry
is that it can say nothing more beautiful
of the real than the real says naturally of itself.
The grandest thing about poetry, on the other hand,
is that it can portray in such splendor the unreal
as to awaken in us the notion that
the delusion is brutally real.
...
Continue reading...
Categories:
westerly, on writing and words
Form: Prose Poetry