Saturday, 7 July 2018

Eighty Nine

My ma stamps the tar, she crumbles, when he buys the car, no pine needles or hay, to keep bursting like lovers, home or away, won't let him cross the arc, he's just trouble, right from the off, a sail on blue waves, with candlelit coveres, is that what he craves, he's ruined her heart, my girl says 'i wonder', if that's only the start, he's not far away, love always hungers, for trips on the train, I still hear me Da, laughing like a juggler, happy he's not barred, our house on the corner.

Friday, 6 July 2018

Eighty Eight

Whoever makes me plead, waves goodbye to dreams, they leave me all alone, consider me gone, not perturbed nor relieved, dancing on my bones, December in warm seas, an Ocean left to grieve, if you believe, when I walked you home, under the lilac trees, my eyes were aglow, another time to bleed, always open to any greed, they ask me the ghosts, sat on bar stools to atone, another broken scene, you never did throw stones, what was once your creed, how you perceive, and tried to cajole, without a hope.

Thursday, 5 July 2018

Eighty Seven

It's useless to hesitate, the knife's on the bone, always strikes too late, never safe to heed, where I've been going, whoever makes me plead, always leaves the gate, they say slay my ghosts, can't access our taste, wave goodbye to that scene, they have me all alone, whose turn now to bleed, it leaves me prostrate, a tune with broken tones, sealed in a shipping crate, if this is your creed, when you leave home, then who can succeed, the moon gyrates, it knows what I've seen, the wind in the slates, the fire in the breeze.

Wednesday, 4 July 2018

Eighty Six

Swallows dust your sisters, forget how to wrangle, those who miss the ship, your search for the free, hangs like an icicle, in songs of the wind, sometimes you kiss, my reclining bangles, in lost bitter promises, so close to the sea, stand and faces or handle, the sometimes night freeze, that makes you laugh guiltless, each line a shenanagle, at a new pointed Ithmus, will you write to me, come back and dandle, is it not to be, why do you insist, that kind of being single, what is there to miss, me on the shingle?

Tuesday, 3 July 2018

Eighty Five

How my voice is raised, I have no need of you, no one listens summer days, i hate to be alone, trapped by my own curfew, on this street or Metro, but you are an angel, brought me something new, to calm my rage, you arrange the loans, the fellowship do's, put jelly on my bones, before you came, nothing seemed true, this time you've created, when you start to 'phone, turns suddenly new, more than all I know, now you've passed away, can't get past the Blues, am shrunken day to day, around me too much you.

Monday, 2 July 2018

Eighty Four

Coming by train last night, i swore faithfully to Jesus, no more of that all right, a woman from Naples, rocks me easy, says everything's OK, it's a perfect delight, every part she pleases, in her eyes i'm blind, fresh linen and fables, the soul of lost seasons, my wallet on the table, she talks of a writer, called Lisa Passolini, and kisses me quietly, by the garden stable, of Saint Peter's, I see the poor unable, done beg at this site, see what you don't see, many others soar like kites, folded, boxed, serene,

Sunday, 1 July 2018

Eighty Three

I don't want to know, if you really believe, I'll sink like stone, fall while you pray, console me with your heat, the house is yours anyway, when you're all alone, will you think of the sea, where no one hears you groan, or listen to you say, as you pour out moans, downtowns brief highway, do you really own, a taste bittersweet, pain in bricks and mortar, you interrogate my case, float wishes on the breeze, who are you to state, I'm only skin and bone, go on then feel free, time that I got going, so much for your creed.