Let's Start With Something Easy

I stand and lean

Against

Ancient granite.

Ancient by the standards of my short life.

Another waits a stride away

Seems this is the place.

Who knows how many have done this

Who knows how many will after I'm gone.

She takes a step closer

And fixes her eyes my way

I look up and smile

She's looking past me

Which I'm glad of

This is a time of leaning

Not of interaction.

She takes a step closer

Still looking past me

We wait together

Though entirely separately.

I reflect as I write

And watch the people pass by In this cool, clammy heat.

There's no message here

Just narration.

The spectator

I feel Old And through that age I feel Alone Yet not lonely More like I've been taken somewhere I never asked to go And left there But still in full view Of everyone

Subversive social commentary

...we’re fucked.

TwentySeven

I drift silently Like blood through water The purest pollution. Confined to a bottle With no shore leave I float My only aim is to wait To make it out Whole And no longer diluted.

The eleven thirty train to sleepsville via stone heart town has left

How do you feel Because I don't know how To. I want to know But Don't lend me your knowledge Just let me know, Tell me Your side of the story Don't let me in the door Just let me peek through the window And catch a glimpse I don't have the time Or the capacity For it all

Wait, what?

Little fingers never waited So long To be waited Upon Had to weigh out some Gold, or was it silver That had a lighter weight I can't wait for the answer Now that they're waited They can move faster But that's only after They've waited to have The weight lifted To become weight-less

No stones thrown

I can taste the air.

Soil and water,

The light of a star,

Life givers.

The heat radiates inside you

You take my breath away

Make me perspire

But I can’t leave.

I saw hello to all inside

Whispering and caressing

Rewarded with treasures

Shining and bold.

Ambiguity is the core of good literature

It keeps you guessing. I know what it's about, you think you do. But different things mean different things to different people, differently... I get off on that a bit. You draw me in Oh, the way you do Taking my very essence From between your lips Dry or wet  It's all the same Taking me down  Into you Stealing my soul Then breathing me out  Into the world I knew before Tainted now Discoloured Part of me left in there Remaining Attached to your insides Like a memory of what  Could Have Been But will no longer come to pass Go ahead, take another That's all I am to you I'm used and I love it It's all I am

Still sailing

The reef cracked my hull Yet I sail on My hold has begun to fill Yet I sail on The cabin is splintered, destroyed Yet I sail still Strakes fractured Sails are tattered Yet on I go And as I watch the last slow match fall I pray none of the powder is dry

Introspective and whatnot

So this poem came from me looking at how I function in a group. I'm inherently a quiet person, but I'm more than happy to talk if I feel I can offer something to the conversation, but quite often I feel like the first line, just there, observing. Especially with people that have recently joined my life, and I don't mean it in a bad way, as I know there is no way I could contribute to years of peoples past or knowledge of their homes, I wasn't there, I didn't know them, and I'm fine with that. I quite like just listening. A silent observer  From over the edges of torn sheets Keep to the daylight To the peripheral shadows  at the edges of your eyes Just wanting to see Not to be Happy to listen And speak within Hiding in plain sight They can all see But not comprehend Or recognise  The distance between The distance within Steal yourself from the participation You have nothing to offer So just hover And exist in front of their eyes But at the back of their minds