I see the colours and shapes that fill the earth
and the joy of a dead land embracing rebirth.
I hear the sound of rustling leaves from the trees
as I enjoy the gentle caress of a summer's breeze.

I smell the fragrance from a bouquet of flowers,
and see declaration of hearts from hopeful lovers.
I feel my mum's rough hands when I clasp them in greeting.
and remember her struggles through years of caring.

rains run dark down door scrum
pink pallid finger finds button
dainty lite lit
and poised angled
pushes the hum
of the buzzer alive

within the steps come from
the darkness heavy
faster loud swifter
nearer
the lock shuttled opened
the lead panes
with greasy image
behind swerving
swings
open

a pale shivering teen
her ribbons limp and
damp from a dress

this aging fortress
tender of the gloom
in dark and grey

I'm thankful for Neopoet
my poetry workshop home
I found a family of poets
unlike any ever known.

I've been on the internet roving
sharing my poetry all over
I've no poetry education
So, I needed evaluation.

A forsaken heart full of thoughts and passion,
I've etched, transcribed, designed poetic fashions.

I'm thankful for the gift of my two sons.
They made my life worthwhile. They are the ones
who gently prompted laughter from a frown,
those times I felt despondent, sad or down.

I'm thankful they were healthy, strong of limb
(It seemed I had my private seraphim)
and grew to adulthood warmhearted, kind -
the sort that stood defending those maligned.

Don't tell me you're fucking sorry!
Don't you think I've heard those words before?
I know you can't feel what I feel.
So why would you think you could speak at all?

Don't you fucking touch me!!
Don't you think I've been touched before?
I know you can't feel what I feel.
So why would you reach out at all?

do we really live beyond life

Living tributes for immortals

Tributes to humans: Who live for ever
When poets and composers pass away
they may not pass this way again
but note such lovers of wisdom and humanity live all the way
they never really pass away
only such great personalities do stay
I say
some day... one day...maybe not far away
I too may join them I wish and pray
then only someone will come and say
did this person ever walk this way.

Mind anticipates.....
Mind tumbles from crest
Drops from rim of bottle
Mind of tears drops
Mind bows for its freedom
The way of fling chaos
Mind struggles.....

The more I read, the less I understand
In ciphered scrolls of men and withered lore
Bombarded, as a specious reprimand
We came to fall on books, but learned no more

So much, too full the void inside is fed
Allusions wrapped in images unknown
Packed dense as wheat into our crowded heads
When all we crave is quiet time alone

There is a time, when all theses days collide
Into a maelstrom of incomprehension
And stripped of humble roof the mind can’t hide
From all the unfurled webs of self-invention