One more rhyme

For Clinton Cards
--------------

The stars that shone
and now are gone
Live on and on
In stories and song

The wind that blew
When the earth was new
Breathes on it's true
In me and you

Our staggered days
That softly blaze
Will be sung anon
In tomorrow's haze

The stars that shone
and now are gone
Live on and on
In stories and song.

Starstruck

Consolations of the night sky
-------------------------

As the full moon
wanes to a hungry crescent
between days where
clouds form shapes and
the sun bursts through
and tides rise and fall
a little voice in
a lonely room
writes himself consolations
such as this -

Here we are,
There we went,
Think of all
The time we've spent
It was okay
All that we hid
For as they say
It's not what you did
It's what you meant.

Two that rhyme (sort of)

Rib Cage
-------

You cannot escape
from an unwalled prison
Bracketed by horizons
and the joke of freedom
All hopes decieve you
in an unwalled prison.

The strongest walls
can be chipped over time
Into a tunnel carved by days
a long walk to a new dawn

But the body that contains you
is a hungry fragile pawn
in an endless aimless game
Played out on an unmowed lawn

No rules and the board is bent
and buckled and the pieces
Are lost along the way by contented
children who pull faces

At the vanquished who smile
Spiked on the city gates
While fate's hands tick inside
the rotten sinking sun

Numbered days are done
and undone, the eternal
present tethered to our eyes
a chain of memorials

The shackles of sighs
Too many greetings
Far too many goodbyes
These things are fleeting

The rest are lies
The meat of your meetings
is picked over by flies
and eaten by worms

Who crawling blind
tongueless in unison
Labour to remind -

You cannot escape
an unwalled prison.


Mercy
-----

Death take me
and put me back
Give me the sack
then reinstate me
I need a break
I broke my back
My smile is heavy
My lips are cracked
It's too much to take
It'll happen eventually
So Death take me,
But put me back.

Poetry in the Underworld

Shit from an old notebook(s) -

Carousel
--------

Sitting outside the cafe
by our slopeside apartment
I turn the spoon in my coffee
It's breath transpires
As I watch the fairground ride
Across the road turning
circles among the mountains -
fibreglass vehicles tailgating
each other endlessly
with nobody on them.
A half stifled laugh
passes my lips
and it stops.


Cheers, Frances
--------------

Frances met some poets
in Italy
and told one of them
they reminded her
of a friend of hers.
Apparently in Italy,
men are not ashamed
of writing poetry.

I was flattered
that she described me
as her friend, and not
her friend's crazy
older brother.


For you (generic love poem)
-----------------------

It's far too early
to be writing poems for you
So this will have to do.


Reflections on the Goverment
-------------------------

I don't really know anything
about you or what you do.

And I imagine you could be
doing a worse job.

It's probably pretty tough
Trying to run a country.

But I still would like to see
You against a wall
With the smear of your
Grey matter as a pillow.


Sentence
--------

It is oddly gratifying
to allow oneself
nostalgia
for a time that was
actually rather tedious
and occaisionally unpleasent.


Responsibility
------------

I am writing poems again
When I should be washing up.