Jaksie.com

Poor Bird. . We took a quiet walk today Once more along the riverside, Everything much the same as usual Under a dubious winter sky. My gaze engaged by something there At the side of the narrow path, Indefinable, but not expected. I leaned in closely, to see The wings of a large bird, A [...]

Last Rites. . . It is hard to believe That we still have a problem Because I have tried so hard And pushed every button. You don’t have time to talk Nor are you the most patient So I suppose I should leave it And hope it all works out somehow. . .

In Solitary. . . Some old people Must feel that they Are in a padded cell, Serving their time, Afraid to try the lock. Seeing nothing, Hearing nothing, Never seeing The other prisoners. . .

Lost Child. . . You were truly family Seen at intervals All through childhood, Familiar and accepted Without a single thought, A part of my life. We all married We had our families But you left yours To begin a new life Somewhere secret. I have not seen you again And it has been Another [...]

Just Like That. . . It came as quickly As waking did, Rising from the sea Immediate and perfect And has never changed, Durable through the years Never faulted in any way Crazed but not cracked. . .

The Action Behind The Scene. . . It is beyond everyday stuff, It is like taking a swift glance Through a normally boarded up And totally unnoticed window Onto the really real world. There is no time to actually Take the whole thing in But it is so much more than, It leaves me feeling [...]

An Uncomfortable Question. . It is not a comfortable question ‘Would I live my life differently Given the unusual opportunity To revise the whole script once more’. Yes, there are some things I would be very happy to change, Some people and places I truly wish That I had never been to, But then, all [...]

Antique Mirror. . . Looking in the long mirror Just thinking of all that it has seen, Old now, and shabby, with dusty carvings Set around the chipped edges All bows, grapes and furbelows. How many men and women stared, Looking pensively at themselves Wondering if they were truly real. . .

Shush. . . Shh, don’t say a word For it will not be enough And it will be too much. Sometimes silence speaks well As each one hears it differently. . .

The On Switch. . . This feeling is so rare That it comes, like a lover, Into a place of normality Where it switches on the light To illuminate and recolour The average brilliance of life To a scene in dazzling neon. . .

You Know What They Say. . . No good coming to me To ask what you should do now, She has heard everything from everyone. Except for you of course, Still oblivious to the totally obvious, So obviously you are doing yourself A large amount of bloody damage. You need to finally face up to [...]

Graffiti. . . I love graffiti when it is well done, To me it is like folk art. The only problem is That more often than not It is total mindless bloody crap . .

Just Laundry. . These sheets and pillowcases Have just come out of the wash Looking as fresh as they did When I bought them in a sale, They have been creased and soaked Beneath our dampened bodies On oh so many passionate nights But no one else would ever think it.

Satisfaction. . , There is not much amusement In a closed life of sickness and dependency But there is a definite satisfaction In the knowledge of a job well done . .

Fingerprints. . . I am free of you But you are not gone From my life. I can always feel The shadow of the past And feel the fingerprints That you have covered me with. . .

On Our Way To Alston. . . What scenery it was That we zipped past On our way to Alston. Vast expanses that stretched Away to rain soaked mist Covering far horizons, From nearer furrowed fields To further sheep filled pastures Rising as they flowed In gently folded ground Of dusty eastern yellow Through subtle [...]

It Really Takes The Biscuit. . . It does not seem fair. First you break my heart, Then you ruin my appetite For all the normal things I used to love to do. And, as a final added touch, I find I cannot bear to sleep If sleeping means I spend the night In endless [...]

. Career Advice. . . Don’t you even get started On all that twinkle twinkle little star shit Because I simply do not want to hear it All, over and over again. Can you not be satisfied with a normal life Just like everyone else is. Why do you always need to push the envelope [...]

Visiting Auntie Lily. . . When my brother and I were children We would be washed and brushed Like a pair of prize puppies Before being taken to Auntie Lily’s house. She was a fierce old lady, Stiff and upright in her gleaming home Full of foreign objects, brought home By a merchant seaman brother. [...]

No Words. . . don’t ask me to explain this particular situation, i cannot even think of him leaving, the idea is unspeakable . .

The Clock Of My Life Is Racing. . . the clock of my life is either standing still or racing so quickly that time is flying . time is racing past at this particular moment because I shall soon be seeing you . .

Don’t Stop Believing. . . It is not a waste of time To wish upon a falling star Or hope against all the odds. It may be a rabbit’s foot And keeping your fingers crossed, But there is nothing wrong With keeping a candle in the window Or whistling in the dark. . .

New York Choices. . . It was a day of change In the New York sunshine. Did she take the necklace With the blue and pink enamelling Or leave it there because of doubts Leading to regrets upon the morrow. Is it not like judging the vagaries Of vicarious feelings, against The strong needs of [...]

Waitress. . . She is always friendly With a welcome ‘How D’you Do’. A bone thin personality, But through pressure of family duty Rather then by dictate of fashion. Careworn and sinewy, with home dyed hair, It is the beauty of her changing eyes Flowing endlessly between grey and blue That sits permanently in my [...]

Not Worth Doing. . . Don’t feel regret Or wish to replay, It is not worth it. We are all the same Once we reach that point Of looking back. We all wish that We’d had more sex And rounder heels. Now we must sit it out. . .