January 09, 2009

Poems

So I finally made a blog. And to celebrate, the two poems that I've written since the poetry module that I'm most pleased with. Although not *very* pleased...
 

There are one hundred and five miles between Coventry and Bristol

I don’t miss you, my love.

Your voice is my jewelled sunset and

your lips are my morning yawn.


If a friend laughs in my ear, it is you, or

if an arm embraces me, it is yours

stretching for miles.


Your smile is the sizzle-smell from my frying pan

and your eyes are the warm space under my blanket.

I don’t miss you, my love. I think with your thoughts


and I walk the map of your daily bike ride

each time I leave my room. My dreams

are dreams for you. How can I miss you?


Even the cold night-time places echo

with your breathing as you steal the covers.

Tomorrow is not

Your car’s cold like a dead man’s kiss,

like a silver today. You’ll never grow old.


I wish you would drive me away, but you

speak to me in silence of the green habits


of field mice, of the cornflower sunrise, and writhe

smoke rings through the air. Your guitar


has turned black, and you don’t care. Who am I?

Take me out of the city, the deadly city, the blackened city,


like a frozen tomorrow, the sovereign city,

my sunlit sorrow. Take me to where you live


and tie the trees about my neck, my silver

necklace. And hang the sun behind my eyes,


my prize. Your guitar has sprung open, like a door,

like a kiss. You wound music through the smoke,


my abyss. And it spoke to me in silence of

the black trees against the sunrise, of the


tunnelled-earth secrets. And it writhed in the air

like the kiss of a man, like the pulse of a man, like the


breath of a man who will never grow old, and

it writhed in the air and you writhed in my soul.


Take me out of the city, the silver city,

the moon-spun city. Take me. I wish


you would drive me away, but your kisses

are cold. And you speak to me in silence.


- 2 comments by 1 or more people Not publicly viewable

  1. Sue

    I like your poems though I made it 98.5 miles if you go via Stow on the Wold. You’ve inspired me to write a poem, I hope it’s alright because I haven’t run it past anyone yet-

    The Sum of the Other Two Sides

    Your chin in my hand, cupped
    nestled, in my dream
    “It will be easier this way”
    You said.

    10 Jan 2009, 08:56

  2. This is very weird. My boyfriend lives in Bristol. I live in Coventry. That poem could almost be about us, except I do miss him, very much.

    10 Jan 2009, 20:15


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