I’m a tenant in this glad rag of flesh
running up a debt
do I owe it all to death?
that smiling skeleton
brought my breath
it catches in my throat every now and then
holding it in
then breathing it out when
I’m back in the room again
Nature
Day 19: Contortionist tree
Ever the contortionist
the tree twisted gnarly limbs
branching out in all directions
many a perch for the crows
and those wise black eyes
that surely know
the tree had weathered many storms
only the crow could tell
when the crown would fall
Day 17 Beast
The mist smeared the day
in a haze
the leaves licked at me
morning dew
slipped like silk
onto my skin
The sun just rising beyond
and delirious
with my pursuit
I thought I felt the earth
breathe underneath my feet
I could hear it’s stomach churning
the worms ready to feast
The world itself a beast
and I just a mere mite crawling
matted in it’s fur
and reliant upon it’s skin
not something to be messed with.
Day 10: Black tongues
I’m a discombobulated, disembodied
automated automaton
an assorted medley
a conglomeration
running numbers
trying to find my station
and there I was
between their eyes
caught in their squawk
at home amongst the black tongues
Advent calendar 9: Something about you
There’s something about you
that pulls me through
trudging through the winters gloom
there is a spark in your eyes
I can see myself through
you might be the light
at the end of the tunnel
if I was small enough
I’d hide in your covert feathers
and we could fly
to another muse
Advent calendar 5: Sunday wordle
Too much chatter with each beat of the heart
anguish laced with anger a match striking against the grain of us
and so we burn along with the edges
our role unknown
like domesticated felines
just choking the world into a black hole
men with guns for fun
not for want of food
and my soul cannot take it
in this haze of all this smoke
looking for a sign
but seeing only the curse
each of our footsteps a roar
upon the earth
silent like a secret
so we can’t see the destruction we birth
and though the world is a hive
in which we live
we damage it from within
predators of the earth
and in the future they say
we’ll be among the stars
consuming worlds out there too
Advent calendar 2: No translation
December 2nd
It was our houses that were the aliens
we became the invasions
and I am no less guilty
needing these things as much
as any man if not more
lest the cold get to my troubled heart
the birds sing of things we couldn’t
we’re animals lost in communication
in which we still have no translation
Advent calendar poetry 1: The woods
1st December
In the woods
grounded in rugged boots
stripped from our alienation
we stand
in communion with the others
their tails waving and teeth chattering
and beaks opening trailing out winters breath
Bills drilling, tongues rolling
snapping up a woodpeckers delight
nothing is quite the same
once you realise
even dead trees are teeming with life
Sunday wordle on a mundayne
Shh…
Wipe over the dissonance in turquoise
to rid us of this tension
Shh…
Release us from this and into Eden
stay easy with your breath now
No one is the one
but one part of the whole
Shh…
Silence speaks volumes
our alienation seeking absence
The roots of us holding onto this earth
seeking solace in natures theme of rebirth
Sunday Wordle: Brew
My breath trailed out before me as light as a feather
and a breeze blew through the enchanted forest
and spread the richness of autumns gold
like a clue enlightening desire paths
scented with that nutty earth aroma of a seasons transition
in which storms are brewed
just a stone’s throw away
from empty streets
and bounties becoming few
A teacup awaiting winters brew
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 