The Broken Umbrella

a soft white sheet of luminescence
striped with bold black patterns of mirth.
cords of steel that shine bright and new
and springs that love them all.

A careless move. a thoughtless shove.
Crippling the world as we knew it.
A torn sheet, the black, now grey.
rusting away heedlessly

twisted and turned, inside out.
nobody cares what happened to you
mangled remnants of a colourful past.
and a song of glory, unsung.

Comments

The white Rose

copper coloured pots and the chime of bells a vast blue ground. and lots of grass the warmth of an ocean the kiss of the nights sweet drinks. two loaves of bread. and iced tea... indulgent chocolate lollipopped glory... green and red.. and charming winds. dickens and wilde and a Christmas carol and sheets of paper saying "i love you". weak spots and strong.. and whispered songs.. and a generous heart that loves to share the blanket of dreams and you and me a word.not one. go on and on.. the eye of the needle under the brown arch white shirts.two.one long gone.. vague figures on the écran Gable and fantasies and Scarlett hues not tennis..but two sports shoes.. mighty winds of authority.. a one and a two.. an addled computer going boink!boink!boink! phone calls and giggles Recharged Questions ! "I am serious about her!" shared loves and lives. a deep green pail and herbal essences.. baked garlic and cheese olives and those scornful baby-corns the sound of "would ...

a cup of coffee

musings and songs twinkles and stars brown and white the lyric of the twine a cream coloured robe fringes of ice snow.melting and slow. mine and mine and mine. a bottle of blue coloured wizards waiting for the whistle of the train jutting out from its shelter candied almonds. a ladybird looking up at the stars two-three-four and dreams in yellow. a big fat envelope overflowing with nectar a jar of jam .raspberry a pot of cheese.brie a plateful of cherries.blushing. a fistful of daisies.wild. instincts ,cower and grin. advance and retreat..that's the name the winged mate of the dancing girl a ballet of all things.. red.bright.blue.

Heartbreak hotel

Does it come with a warning? Or does it sound as brittle as the shattering of glass? Does it taste like despair on your tongue- ashen, dry and unpleasant? Or does it leave an aftertaste, bitter and nauseous? It's one thing to call yourself a beacon of strength and another to shed silent tears when no one's looking A failed attempt, and some more, and hope is washed away like by the tides of time. Corroding the light and heaping in darkness. A car Crash, a death, a black dress and mourning. is there going to be some light at the end of this tunnel?

illusional reality

Search This Blog