Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
Me myself and I
were talking to myselve's
when we asked us a question
and they were not themselves.
They themselves and them
now questioning themselves
said we were not like them
and had to be yourselves.
You yourselve's and you
now separate from myselve's
meant you could not be me
and we could be ourselves.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
The paper lay flat
on a low reading table,
yet thick in it's pages,
a days worth of fable.
Our library bright with it's
rays to it's sills
and the paper bleached white
with a grey side of gills.
It's HEADLINE in blue
relaxing your eyes.
Large print making stories
seem simpler than size.
Text in black letters;
dragged out into words.
Knowledge you crave for.
Ideas in herds.
News from a paper
pressed for attention.
Left on a table
as though for detention.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
The welfare poem is not for you
and not enough for anyone.
The welfare poem is very small
and not just given to everyone.
It's not enough to read for long.
It's just a little short.
It's not paid much attention to
and not the longing sort.
With thanks there's those who'll get it.
Those of who deserve it.
It's just some stolen words,
though I would soon forget it.
It's filled with much disgrace.
Those wary as they read.
It may be meant for you
if you accept the need.
I hope you have enjoyed it.
I'll cut you off for now.
But if you want more later
just beg there's more somehow.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
I want to shop on Valentine's
but haven't got a date.
I'd buy myself some roses
if it wasn't for I'm straight.
Some chocolate hearts would fill my gut
and card say "I Love You".
But signing it would be in vain
and thanks would never do.
Coupons for a hug and kiss
would make my rainy day.
But everytime I cashed one in
I'd feel a littly gay.
Letters written to my love
would only creep me out.
And knowing they were meant for me
would surely leave no doubt.
Songs of love would fill my heart
if it was meant to be.
But knowing I'm a single guy
would make me want to flee.
Home cooked meals would seal the deal
and I could eat for two.
Until I'm fat and throw me back.
And still have plenty to chew.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2014
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
The Loner goes on
Imagining friends
He heads for a coffee
With hopes to an end
He looks at the counter
Then raises his head
And wonders why
All his looks are of dead
He picks at his pocket
Not sure what’s inside
Hoping it’s nothing
Wanting outside
He tugs at his money
Begrudging his efforts
He isn’t that hungry
Or thirsty; sequester
He stands tall and proud
Cupping his coins
He can’t wait for long
And sitting is wrong
He finally orders
As he’s given the nod
He’s happy to see it
As friends or facade
He waits
He looks around
Then he relaxes
And feels the ground
Approaching is coffee
Nestled by hand
Why won’t it come faster
He can’t understand
He pays over time
Not wanting an end
He knows he must turn;
a table to ‘fend
He looks for an opening
A table that’s free
Seeing so many
Does not feel like glee
He finally chooses to sit by himself
For sitting with others
Is rude and...
Not stealth
How has he gotten here
He asks himself
Retracing his journey
As small as an elf
He looks for a friend
Then down to his coffee
And sees his mug lifting
His eyes feeling lofty
He knows he must go
And can’t say goodbye
He leaves very slowly
Feeling his sigh
He’s walking straight home
And can’t hear a thing
Even his finger
Goes without a ring
He finally gets home
And loves what he sees
Knows what he has
And feels that he’s free
He thinks of the coffee
And says he’ll go back
But the next time he goes
He’s switching to tea
The Loner goes on
Switching to tea
Coffee's not important
As the quest for friends must be
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2006
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
It wasn't hard to turn it off.
I felt like I was free.
Until I started missing life
connected virtually.
The world was now inside of me
and I was now it's slave.
Where fear of stepping out to be
was more than I could brave.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
The trail through the woods seemed all the heartening
as trees that tented crossed unto their side.
Their light seen glowing off them in an ora
to the life felt growing deepening inside.
For the trail went on as long into the hour
where the ground seemed lifting up unto the heart.
while it's fragrance was a stronger smell of flowers
and the air was all of pollen to the art.
When in place to feel belonging to it all
just ahead of and behind it in good time.
Where your comfort is less longing there to be
and your thoughts are moving all along in rhyme.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2017
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
Green Trees to calm our nerves.
Fresh Air to soothe our lungs.
Dampness to cool our heads
and Comfort to fuel our tongues.
Branches to free our notions
and storm clouds to feed our soul.
Black rain to fill us up again
and raped wind to make us whole.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2022
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
I'd rather be alone.
I'd've me alone.
I'm but of one alone.
I've got myself alone.
I'll stay with me alone.
I'll've been alone
I...alone.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2013
|
Details |
Trevor Mcleod Poem
I thought the world had many problems
and saw the need to help.
And asked myself what I could do
beyond the need to yelp.
When all the flaws I thought I saw
were showing in myself.
And all the needs I had to change
were not for someone else.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2018
|