London Poem: Day 364

16 August

It’s getting closer,
Winding down
Like spiral stairs,
Leading to the
Other heaven.
Just kiss me, and
We’ll go.
Where doesn’t matter
Because the finality
Of the year is just
Inches away,
We will step in another,
Same as did the last,
And count them as
They stack up,
End on top of end.

London Poem: Day 348

31 July

With a quiet night a still,
Gentle rumble disturbs the
Easy plans of a night for the ages.
But, why would the world change?
Why would the fire flip?
The gentle sail overhead eases the pain
With soft lights twinkling,
Everlasting, while the trees
Bend like pulled elastic –
We are all the way in,
Through pain and foiled plans,
And nature may only look back to
Watch with its many eyes.

London Poem: Day 331

14 July

Time gives way to memory, or
Memory shapes time, with
All of the squares lined in
Little rows to confuse the two.
To linger in unknown, does not
Tear away the man from the memory,
But that is the method one gauges time.
But, how does time work when our
Memories are only pieces created in time.

London Poem: Day 197

2 March

As one day comes to a close
Night comes rushing in, moving
The eternal lot in rolling motions –
Ever forward, with the glances back,
Subtle and sparse.
I cannot help that I’ve continued on,
Moving from one day to another night,
Forgetting as the mind forgets,
What was, and is no more.
Though, in those occasional reminiscences,
Reliving the soundless sleep of
Ghosts, the world becomes what it was
That night, and never before.
We too sleep, in time, with luck
Forgotten, with love, but when
You are there staring back through
Mirrors too intrusive to ever be at ease,
I see what you should have been, not me.

London Poem: Day 64

20 October

Sleepy streets become tangled
In the lulling lay of evening fog.
From a distance the gentle
Rumble of the N-line jostles
The slumbers of sleeping families –
But we, living without time,
Remain awake to further shake
The world from dreams.
“I’ll do one,” a voice cries,
and the orders spill out.
“I can’t see,” cries another,
“There’s no need, the route
To the mouth hasn’t changed.”
It is then the world wakes.
Dreams disappear and waking
Life resumes.