There’s not long left of tears and laughter,
Not long left of wine and roses.
I wonder if we shall recall them after?
I wonder what the world will be like then?
Out of a dream we rise from slumber
Each and every day,
Knowing well our days are numbered,
And our paths will fold within a dream.
Inspired by Ernest Dowson’s poem, ‘Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam’.
Black bile is leaking from my eyes, my mouth;
I need to let it out onto the page;
This is the only way I can survive;
It is my curse; the price I pay.
A deal was made, long ago,
And the Devil said, “You will have to pay:
If you bleed for me you can have this gift,
Of Insight, and of Clarity,
“But first, you must bleed –
It is the price you have to pay.”
I apologize if my poems have been a little depressing of late. A lot of what I’ve been posting recently is old stuff, which is going to go into another poetry collection to be published by myself soon (more details coming soon). I’m a happier person these days, I promise!
In my darkest nights,
I wished to be a beast
To transcend my own reality.
I stood before the moon
And prayed for her to take me away,
So I could be free from the curse of daylight
And live amongst the shadows.
I could see no better way.
The darkness came down,
The glimmering lights
Drew us in.
We merged together,
Formless as shades.
The night was loud.
You have never known love, deceitful bird,
But still you gather shiny things; engagement rings,
And harbour them close to your heart.
You made yourself peanut butter on toast
While she sat on the garden bench crying,
And started laughing to yourself.
Told yourself, “It’s okay, just an