A few poems from the last week or so

One about a day trip, one about trying to do better, one about regret and one about feeling life wash over you

*Feel the need to point out (cause it says card on the ticket!) that Mersey Ferries wouldn’t take cash.

Liverpool

We caught the train, we braved the rain

I made my sunshine smile again

Didn’t hurry, caught a ferry

Put aside each mundane worry

.

Saw Beatles made of jellybeans

Liver birds upon the roof

The Mersey gargled us, her salt

As faults dissolved in loving truth

I breathed your hair as russet earth

Was silkied by your porcelain skin

I soaked your giggle, greedy mop

Cheek curves, sloped as creamy dunes

And in old moss of ‘could’ve done’

Dull world that steals us as a bank

Came pink of glossy bubble gum

I swelled, a full replenished tank

.

I plucked the day, a yellow rose

Then pressed it for my book of gold

To house the daze of mellow pause

The bliss those fleeting hours held

Cherish dear, absence of storm

Each borrowed ray and scrap of joy

To stretch the ration of this warm

Of you, my precious baby boy.

Mending a hole

I tried to mend the world with force

My anger as a driving thread

But in the needle sat that weight

Repairs cannot be darned with lead

.

I tried to mend the world with love

But found my voice lost in a crowd

Barbed wire impaled my gentle throat

Soft spoken words lost as fine down

.

So, now I work upon myself

An intricate embroidery

The beauty there becomes the wealth

Enriching further tapestries

Regret

I try to burn the book of names

Consign my demons to past times

But guilt consumes me, with her flames

Each mirror knows my harshest crimes

This burden, curd and soured with age

A cigarette I’m forced to smoke

To hack up black, the wreck of rage

Repulsive noose on which I choke

And how they feel, my self made wounds

I’ve scars for every devil’s deal

Some will not heal, are licked by hounds

Stay fresh as snow, refuse to seal

I’ll wear mistakes as dripping jewels

Each chain of fools sits as a weight

The price is ice, the lesson cruel

The bitter beads of frittered fate.

The Painting

The day decayed, a rusty blade

As evening crumbs were summoned

The violet eye of twisted sky

Watched wistful as a woman

For all the green upon this scene

I did not feel alive

I watched it as a painting, dead

I couldn’t climb inside

I’d suffocated on Spring air

Daisy chains around my heart

Each breath a cocktail of despair

A jarring poison dart

I sensed the chills of daffodils

The way they shook at night

They could not run unto the hills

Cemented to their plight

And sometimes I’m a part of it

And other times observer

Some days it washes over me

Some days I am the river

I’ll watch out for the door again

And then I’ll step within

Reacquainted with my painting

And real sun upon my skin

.