The port city and it’s secrets, The Sicilians drapes hung in the… The ghosts beyond the limestone wa… The sad holy brush of James Walsh… The sanctity of the unknown,
We are like pebbles on a beach. Brought by the tide, yet not born from it. Sitting, and waiting,
I remember youth and senses, the smell and touch. Fascinated by breathing, in and out. Sunday walks,
Shackled to a yearning, Dripping face chin to the earth, Not buried yet, Nor glum nor trite, Earths pleasures,
Brush teeth, Planes overhead, People I’ll never meet, Some words just dance, your words dance.
My heart stings tonight. I’ll remember your incredible mind… piercing blue eyes, that laughed and danced, as you told jokes,
My father talked often, of what went wrong, who his father was, Who he is as a father, Long drawn out conversations,
She reminded me of women, I used to see as a child, at family gatherings. Tired, not quite steady,
It takes balls, hell, it takes every inch, to keep spinning. To talk of flowers, or the death,
I look out over the expanse of the… the lights forever glisten, gauging the distance between every… in houses with cutlery now clinkin… 7pm and maybe conversations.
To sin enough, is to sin forever, shine dull nor pure, but fear!, fear the end. Does it end after night, or at the end of the day!
The doubt of spring, makes winter warm, when all is cold is now gone, The sparkle of night, and the seasons change,
Wake to the sun on fire, a wandering wisp of a dream, In it’s forgotten desire, a candle… as a sonnet sings sentiment as bri… What is a plum situation,
Oh dreaded day, bring light! Nothing less than the beauty that you are, The whispers and winds in mind, Shackled, deranged, slightly mad,
You have to, jump in with the sharks. They won’t eat you, unless you let them. You dodge and dive,
