Westerly Poems - Poems about 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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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Oh! for the wet warm South Westerly after the cold white North Easterly leaving ...

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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....

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