John says
When it's a really warm night, with the promise of a sunny day ahead, I'll make my way to the park, where I'll make my last call.
I was digging around my boxes looking for the poems Paul mentioned the other day. I found the originals but can't find the finished ones anywhere. I have two notebooks with them, this one is 3 years old and I carried it in my bag for a year and a half so its falling apart. But I think the originals are close enough to what I ended up with.
Arriving in Woodford St.
Pink springblossom makes your street a painting
petals fall on the breeze as if fainting
coffee opens your eyes to the promising sky
love never needs to ask you why
mid-morning sunbeams cross your face
slow awakening sets the days pace
television brings the worlds problems to your bed
love's all you have in heart and in head
days like this find you without a care
the hot smoke of cigarettes fills the hotter-still air
arms wrapped around in a tease
your love all my fear relieves
Departing Woodford St
Cold air blows the cigarette smoke askew
no more will we wake to the dew
the summer has died in violent fashion
we've long since filled our ration
stale coffee sits growing cold
no more secrets to withold
the television was always broken
from this dream we have been woken
mid-morning clouds obscure the sky
no more will I ask you why
your eyes are drained of colour
as we're both forced to take cover
Untitled
We've neither of us lived lives
of great joy or good fortune
despite giving our all
the cracks are beginning to show
there's only so high up we can go
on such shaky foundations
the rot's in the timber
and the damp's on the wall
so what do we say
when the joist gives way and the ceiling falls
I was digging around my boxes looking for the poems Paul mentioned the other day. I found the originals but can't find the finished ones anywhere. I have two notebooks with them, this one is 3 years old and I carried it in my bag for a year and a half so its falling apart. But I think the originals are close enough to what I ended up with.
Arriving in Woodford St.
Pink springblossom makes your street a painting
petals fall on the breeze as if fainting
coffee opens your eyes to the promising sky
love never needs to ask you why
mid-morning sunbeams cross your face
slow awakening sets the days pace
television brings the worlds problems to your bed
love's all you have in heart and in head
days like this find you without a care
the hot smoke of cigarettes fills the hotter-still air
arms wrapped around in a tease
your love all my fear relieves
Departing Woodford St
Cold air blows the cigarette smoke askew
no more will we wake to the dew
the summer has died in violent fashion
we've long since filled our ration
stale coffee sits growing cold
no more secrets to withold
the television was always broken
from this dream we have been woken
mid-morning clouds obscure the sky
no more will I ask you why
your eyes are drained of colour
as we're both forced to take cover
Untitled
We've neither of us lived lives
of great joy or good fortune
despite giving our all
the cracks are beginning to show
there's only so high up we can go
on such shaky foundations
the rot's in the timber
and the damp's on the wall
so what do we say
when the joist gives way and the ceiling falls