Does your love know

Your eyes, what have they seen? The hint of a smile, the stirrings of a dream? Or the creeping blush over rosy tips Of deep valleys and shallow dips?   Your ears, what have they heard? The sound of a gasp, the scrape of a beard? Of thudding headboards and broken wineglass Of murmured voices,…

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The man at the bus stop

There is this solitary bus stop at the end of the road Across from suburban bungalows With gardens freshly mowed   I cross it every day on my way home from work people leaning against its posts Students, executives and sundry berks   But late one night, on a lonely walk I saw an old…

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Foolish thoughts

Man has many foolish thoughts And like every other thought Each foolish thought counts Like the wish for fulfilment In the sinking of sun-kissed pennies To the bottom of romantic founts The foolish trust in friends Or those we inevitably think of In agonising moments of trouble Not knowing that, they are as Incapable of…

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Above and Below

The Bible spoke once Of heaven above, of hell below The Gita sang of how We travel between them, to and fro But these mythical allusions Cannot explain why Good and evil manage to co-exist Without even having to try Every man has committed sin Every man has loved at least once Does it mean…

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The mirror

Mirrors are duplicitous Wherever you find One world in front One world behind While wandering in my castle I encountered one day An old, ornate frame Dusty and grey   Within I saw A doorway unsealed The most beautiful man Trapped (???) in its reel   This other man I knew Was my reflection The…

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A gift to my mother

{ This really is what I wrote for my mother on her birthday. I wrote it about 35 minutes before she came back home from shopping} You were created from a light A light of generous  gifts You were born to be and fight And to stoically anchor shifts You did not want to come Because…

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The story of Jack (in the box)

Do you see that red, square box? that innocent piece of wood? it’s been my home and my prison I wouldn’t stay there if I could     I’ve been squatting in that thing under a painfully heavy lid If you opened it and slammed it shut It might be the meanest thing you did…

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Heart of the Fire

  Some hearts are strong, and some are weak But all of them, are doomed to weep It may be joy, that hastens to flow in rivulets, dreary winds or snow It may be sorrow, yes that might be a cause, for death and grief, defy all laws To suffer, to writhe, and then to…

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