Day: August 11, 2015

Watercolour love

Like  ancient watercolours washed by  rain,
Our hearts had mingled,yet our separate selves  remained.
Two watercolour pictures without frames,
Became  one picture over time;
Yet two  of us still there.
Our colours blended naturally,
Till  shades and hues were shared.
I loved your colours intermixed with mine:
Together they became a new design.
A watercolour  image  touched and stroked by rain
I, too,  shall go, yet our  tender Watercolour Love  ever remains


	


	



			
				


			

			
In such captive grief
		
	
	

		


How like a prison is my cubicle
How wary is  my body on this chair.
How still my heart and yet how truly fickle.
How fast it flies to you, who are not here.

How elegant your letters and your thoughts
How gentle was your touch upon my throat.
And yet you killed  my words and all I brought...
You were no lover but  a randy goat.

As in this mental jail I'm  neatly trapped,
I'll use this time to write and  perchance pray.
I hope my mind can recollect a map..
From which I'll plot the route to get away.

The prisons which seem external are inside
Yet in such captive grief some folk have died

	


	



			
				


			

			
A sentence is heard,
		
	
	

		






























Is the mind quite distinct from the brain?


I ask myself over again.


But answer comes not


To this London hot spot….


I avoid metaphysics in vain




We need to boot up our  own brains.


Limericks can take out  some strain.


Write a cute line


Or a sentence divine..


Then  keep writing   until  you’ve no pain
























THOUGHTS


WORDS ARE LIKE BEADS ON A CHAIN






1.

Words are like beads on a chain


Alone they can’t take any strain.


But joined up in gold


A sentence can mold


A prayer is repeated again.


2


Words cluster in larger groups


Waiting for writers to stoop..


Then instead of one word


A sentence is heard,


Some call this poetry soup.


3.


Professors do not create words,


which from the unconscious are lured


They only critique


What you and I speak.


After conversing and writing,that’s third.