My Words, My World

First drafts – A few pages in the large wilderness of the world of writing

Archive for the category “thoughts”

Time

The sun rises

            I sit

It rolls over me

            I sit

It goes down and disappears

            I sit

in the sultry, inert air

that moves not leaf nor hair

like the breath of the dead

or the sigh of angels.

The moon follows sun

            I sit

The planets align

            I sit

The stars wheel overhead

            I sit

In the night’s darkest hour

when time slows down

to the separation of continents

or to the beat of broken wings.

Pavement

I walk the pavement,
Why would I walk anywhere else,
when I can avoid the chewing gum,
the discarded face masks,
the cracks and the dogshit?

I breathe in the petrol,
the diesel,
the LPG,
and the hum of electric cars.

Two-stroke scooters battle big-engined cars
as they vie for the same space,
for their little piece of road.

Everyone’s going somewhere,
everyone’s got a destination,
home to their evening:
the nagging wife,
the bottle of wine,
the TV sound,
the steak dinner.

A thousand thoughts in a thousand cars,
a thousand distracted minds
all wanting to get where they’re going…
or maybe not.

A thousand different things to do,
but no one’s doing what I’m doing:
walking,
while avoiding the chewing gum,
the discarded face masks,
the cracks and the dogshit.

 

Broken Silence

Today I heard the beat of a swan’s wings

I’d never heard it before

It broke the silence of the smoke of a cigarette

It rippled the silence of a glass of wine

I followed the swan across the still of the lake

I followed its flight across the face of the winter sun

Today I heard the beat of a swan’s wings

and wished I could fly

Closure

Christmas passed,
the year thins to an end
and I too seek closure;
of my eyes in the darkness
(well, temporarily at least).

My thoughts flash like festive lights in no order
and my mind considers things like political parties
and grey life under the Stasi,
of free-flowing intellectualism
and cold, uncaring capitalism.

I think of flights and holidays
and rhythmic train journeys
hurrying to their destinations
where destinies await the destined.

I think about the sun
and where the winter has gone
(It will be back to bite us on the ass,
no doubt).

I think about you and me
wind-blown from the sea.
Years end
but the waves do not.

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