Not just a treasury but a very precious little treasure too. Published in 1947, the poems may no longer be quite so modern but they are still certainly beautiful. Here is one I particularly liked …. ‘deep is the silence.’
| Moonlit Apples
At the top of the house the apples are laid in rows, A mouse in the wainscot scratches, and scratches, and then They are lying in rows there, under the gloomy beams; In the corridors under there is nothing but sleep. |
It was a year ago today and I don’t think I can remember any day where I have woken up with such excitement to see someone. As days go, it was pretty perfect. There was you, me, a bit of Shakespeare and whole lot of night…
If I could take back all the misery I have caused for one more night like this I would because when I was with you, you only made me happy.
I do not dare to dream
Those burning green and fertile dreams
Of a life with you.
Yet,
I cannot bare to dream
Of any life without you.
So I will dream nothing.
Nothing.
Anaesthetise all senses
Until I can sink into
Coma-like oblivion
To wait,
Until you are mine.
These poems have all been chosen because there are some days that you just really miss someone.
I miss your face
Your smile
Your hands
Your toes
Your legs
Your shins
Your skin
Your nose
I miss your laugh
Your voice
Your words
Your knees
Your tongue
Your teeth
The way you sneeze
I miss your mouth
Your chest
Your arms
Your butt
Your shoulders
Your back
Your self harm cut
I miss your touch
Your smile
Your cheeks
Your eyes
Your neck
Your ears
Your cock
Your sighs
I miss your veins
Your cells
Your atoms
Your blood
Your movements
Your hair
Your heart and its thud
I miss your song
Your beauty
Your love
Your sun.
But mostly,
I miss you,
My own special one.
Here I am.
Just me,
A voice without words
Made mute,
Oh so silently.
The time was 7.29
I missed you
Again,
So I waited
Forlornly,
Like a fool waiting for a lover
On the wrong platform.
And still I wait
For you to come
Like I often wait,
Wondering what went wrong
Along the line,
Where you are,
What I did,
Do you care?
I’m anxious, terrified
Of falling under the wheels,
As the seconds pass like minutes
That pass like hours
That stretch on like beige days
And before I know it, it’s 18.49
Another day spent waiting has come and gone
And before I know it it’s 18.49
You’ve passed on by,
I’ve missed you
Again.
Listen.
Nothing?
Just the brittle eggshell crack
Of your own heart.
Listen again.
Nothing.
I am oddly pleased with the oh so ‘creative’ titles for today and yesterday’s poetic offerings. Hopefully the poems are marginally better…There was only going to be one poem for today but then I ended up writing two, as you do, and couldn’t decide which one I liked best…
#1
I gave the most transparent hints all week:
This is what I need.
You gave them right back again:
This is not what I need.
#2
Sometimes, the struggle isn’t only yours,
It’s mine too.
Sometimes, behind the smiles you see,
There are tears.
Sometimes, all I need is to know,
Is that you still love me.
Sometimes, perhaps I explain this all wrong;
Upset you.
Sometimes, I should probably just give up,
Accept defeat.
My broken heart
Was broken twice;
A fragile lake,
Made of ice.
Then it bled
Now it pours,
These tears of mine
Are yours and yours.
I broke my toe,
Fool that I am.
Stubbed it hard on the end of the bed
And heard it crack loudly
Like a broken heart.
In the silence I watched it turn purple
Then black,
Swell out of shape;
A bone made brittle
Over time.
It hurt
Of course
But this didn’t surprise me,
I had expected pain,
What I hadn’t expected
Was that my toe would hurt
More than my heart.
