The Sea
I stand in the hall
young and old poeple all around me
I open out my arms so that they can land on me
like thousands of butterfflies
then i want to hug them all
and we can rock back and forward
like waves
The Last Post
If this was the last thing
that I ever wrote
what would it be,
what would it be about,
how would it end,
begin
what would be in the middle,
the body
I guess the most important thing to do,
is treat every poem as if it really is you last.
A last testament
put everyting into it
heart and soul
and hope it finds a new home in someone else
so even if it really is your last
someone else can touch others
so that they can carry it on.
The Search
I look and look
but cannot find
I am not sure what it is I hope to find
but still I continue.
I don’t always look for long
some days I give up and go home,
sleep.
split the day into two.
And even some days
I start searching again,
twice in one day.
I don’t know why I don’t give up,
many men would,
but for some reason
I don’t.
Wisdom
As I notice I am crossing london road
I see a man sat on the other side
he looks homeless
but doesn’t care.
He holds a bottle in his hands,
one holding the bottom,
one the top.
If he thrust it in front of him
it would feel like a presentation
an award
but he holds it too close for that,
like it is the most valuable of everything he has.
He keeps staring at me
so I give him a nod
as if there is some true wisdom between us
and the more I think about it
the more I think he is right.
