#545
Fickle and winding
these days keep darting
i chase them, i’m gasping,
the hour’s collapsing
in mornings i’m mourning
the evening’s expiry
i’m losing the time
to fill up a diary
i keep missing the minutes
and slipping on seconds
an existence in timeless
would be such a blessing,
but as i keep on sprinting
and gulping my gasping
the one thing needs no questions
is the the thing you keep asking,
it’s all, so, so, so, worth it.
#546
i like writing of sunsets,
and silhouettes, as much
as i like to think of your smiles,
your eyes, your laugh,
i remember yesterdays
as often as i can,
the way you yawn,
the colour of light of the water,
the shades pink across the clouds,
as hard as it gets,
i like life,
and i’m lucky to have you in mine.
#547
And every odd day,
the sleek black bird returns,
sitting along the power lines
resting its eyes on me,
it knows the currents,
above and below,
steady on her feet,
watching without blinking,
guarded, or tracked,
i feel settled by either,
it’s simply nice to know
that there’s something
that cares from above.
#548
Attempts at
astral goals
bizarre blends
in endless lucid,
dreams,
waking a top
my pillow of smelly clothes
beside my guitar
another day,
another step.
#549
By the sea,
beside his paper,
and his mug,
the pieces danced.
Brows furrowed
plates clacked,
fingers tapped,
while minds riddled,
conversation ebbed,
and the wind rustled his beard.
i miss the rasp
as i miss the routine,
our mornings outside the Atlantic,
our mornings along the pavement.
Thanks for joining! Find poems through out the week on my instagram @monsieurwrite
Don’t forget to check out the poems being recited on The Write Stuff podcast!
Take care, call your family, tell them you love them.
wazoo!
-Mr. Write