Sit and listen to
The sound of the pitter patter
That abounds
Like constant white noise
Asserting no significant attention
Just the buzz of human relations
Like the wings of a bee
Humming the language of nations
Industrious working of this socialisation
Working its way through the psyche
Of many generations
While clowns look to the clouds
With wisdom in their jest
And hearts of lions pounding in their chest
Perhaps detained
But noticing every freedom
Has it’s own cage
And seeing that maybe
As caged birds flaps their wings
Can a man surely dare to dream?
Poetry
Sunday wordle: Tethered
The wind whistles through the broken fence
As the day gnaws at the final thread
Where hours echo and fall apart
Leaving imprints on stricken hearts
Where no word can touch upon
As the wheels than turn
Lead us to tethered ends.
Wits end
I found my wits end
Like a wick at the end of a candle
Dying embers
Refining my latest scandal
To be remembered
As I become dismantled
Sunday wordle attempt: Shadowing dreams
Ignite your shadow in whispers
Let the tongues utter their rumours
Walking the line you walk
Sending ripples through dreams
Like water
Letting others know
The miracle you have within
Loved books
Dog eared with tears
And tattered edges
Souls touched upon
Between the pages
Ghosts turning through the phrases
Haunting the spines
Of loved books
Written and read through the ages
If Jesus was a tree
Anchored to the earth
Standing tall
Despite her bellowing wail
Making you quiver
But you, you’re a stickler
For strength in the face of adversity
Falling and rebirthing
Stood with such grace
If Jesus was a tree
I’d take a leap of faith.
Nuances of nature
The ways I sees it is this
Heartbreak don’t leave
On the whims of a calendar
It stays as long as it takes
And ya can’t put yer brain in a sling
To ‘elp fix the nooks and crannies & breaks
To a heart the’ is no too early or too late
It neither dawdles or rushes in a hurry
It just rises and wanes
And the truth is our brain can’t
Protect us from the feelings
We harbour & cage
Kicking up a kerfuffle
At the nuances of natures way
Wordle attempt
A soul is better when like
an empty jar
The more spare space
The more free you are
To give the gift of mercy
Upon those too full
Of hurt and hate
Fucks
I’ve only got a few fucks to give today
Delirious in purple slumber
Lazy is as lazy does
Hazy in pink bliss
Don’t disturb unless it’s about my mother
Or the ship is going down under
No fucks to give to a rowdy neighbour
No fucks to give to the boy who cried wolf
Too little too late
Trying to live amidst
My own haste
Anxiety accelerating my self – hate
No fucks to give
None, just some fucks on reserve
Just in case.
Shooting the breeze
Shooting the breeze
With my mate Jack
Playing Russian roulette
With cigarettes
Forgetting the warnings on the packs
“We are idle beings”
Jack begins
“We say we domesticate ourselves
Well I’ll ‘ave you know, Matt,
‘tis the animals that domesticated us”
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 