Poems page 10 | gisellemarks

Adultery

Lies, evasions, time apart

When does adultery start?

Computer porn all alone

Are you made of stone?

Flirting, chatting girls on line,

Is it only a warning sign?

When did love cool?

Are you such a fool?

Is the grass truly greener?

Now you talk and act meaner

Silent shunning

Sneaky cunning

Unfaithful thoughts and mind

Do you really think she’s blind?

So you haven’t yet strayed?

Marriage vows you’ve obeyed

Fidelity of the heart is broken,

Your commitment’s token

The act is not the cause

Your perfidies are the flaws

That made the crack

You can never take back.

Love requires so much more

It is never just a chore

Nor needs keeping score

Of our freezing war.

No one wins

Your guilty sins

Do not cease to be

Is she don’t want to see

The truth and you won’t recover

Your youth with a new lover.

Selfish thoughts and lies

Destroy the strongest ties.

Trust has flown

Seeds are sown

And will not be uprooted

Harsh words unrefuted

Love cannot be repaired

What once was shared

Will never be the same,

Now will you accept the blame?

Does Size Matter?

Should poems be more than a simple number of lines?

Seventeen on in three short bursts make up a haiku

But five lines of verse for Mr Edward Lear would do

In pithy verse of couplets we search for obtuse signs

Of deeper meanings and magical wisdom to accrue.

Does their size matter? Should we mind the length?

And pack the contents of our cryptic rhyme

Is there an optimum number of lines to chime?

I ponder what gives a poem such immense strength

A few words put together soar and make us climb.

How do they acquire such power to affect our soul?

A poet considers long and nurtures his verse

Is poetry divisive or perhaps far, far, worse?

Just intelligentsia seeking an intellectual goal?

Having no value for real life? Should we nurse

Our poems and strive to tell a convoluted tale

Of fiendish demons and dark doings in heroic odes

With ideas wrapped carefully in enigmatic codes

Or write precisely to order with a specified scale

Do we lead our readers down uncharted roads?

What do we hope our thoughts will achieve?

Will we change the world? Will our verse hit home?

Or will our efforts moulder in some dusty tome?

Will our audience laugh with us or will they grieve?

Or banish poets forever to unwelcome roam!

Random

Hair brushing to remove elf locks,

Fairies played with my hair in the night

Mind a tangle of threads of mystery

Ignoring the existence of clocks

Images flitter past, vague yet bright

Present upstaged by past and history

Each thread glowing brighter than the last.

Firing floating wisps through the id

My mind’s a Tardis over stuffed

And badly sorted for easy access

Some ideas vanish off the grid

Novel concepts now are buffed

Brought into light fractious

Nurtured memories dredged from the past.

Do I know what I’ll write today?

Comprehend how my thinking works?

Enigma it remains even to me!

I search and find my hiding prey

Within the darkest niche it lurks

I despise its sorrowful plea

To be left alone. I bind it to my mast.

To sail with me on the seven seas

And reveal her glittering inner fire

My Tinkerbell will live again

If only boys and girls believe

And she will gloriously inspire

Through danger, peril and her pain

A tiny sparrow transformed to lion vast!

Laxey River

Sun sparkling, dappling through the verdant trees,

Water rounding boulders before moving on its way

Bobbing along a few fallen brilliant green leaves

Smiling back enjoying the beauty of the day,

Listening to the stream tumbling over the steps of a weir

Splashing and crashing with stunning force,

Restfulness washes over me and I feel a tear

Of joy as the river ignores me and follows its course.

I stand and I stare enthralled absorbed as I spy,

A few tiny fish flashing through the stream

Rising to gobble up some midges or a fly

Insects skim the surface. I take time to think, to dream

No traffic noise, no blasting music intrudes,

Nature is king, I am the guest in this pleasant wilderness

A brief interlude but the meaning eludes

My seeking mind, as I imagine this tiny idyll limitless

Without the paths on its banks worn by man,

Without the buildings lurking behind the leafy curtain

What if the concrete weir steps did not span

The babbling river and constrict it to a certain

Route and flow? What if the Isle was as before we came

No roads, no houses, no sign of our ever living there

My thoughts fail to picture the perfection of this game

It cannot truly imagine anything so fair.

The water tumbles on oblivious of my wistful musing

I return to my friend to chat of unimportant things

But one thought lingers with the river’s peace refusing

And that thought flitters by on its own wings

To recreate the Isle in far distant times

When Mannahan Mac Lir ruled its shores

And the Faery frolicked in its lush climes

The water flows on, unwilling to settle old scores.

Fifty ways to wreck your life.

He loves me, he loves me not!

I was a fool, I didn’t realise what I’d got.

I can’t live without her and now she’s gone

Learn the lesson from what you’ve done

Move on and try to be happy

You’d rather cry and wear a nappy?

Your boyfriend’s fallen for another man

Order a van, make another plan.

There is enough sadness in the world why add more strife?

There must be more than fifty ways to wreck your life.

You’ve left your job because your boss was mean,

You’ve no prospect of a job and haven’t got a bean!

Your book stinks but you don’t believe it,

Maybe writing is not for you and quit!

Your beloved Dad is going to die

You’re convinced the doctors all lie

You feel so guilty for your past wrongs

So you sulk and sing mournful songs?

You want to die but are too scared to use a knife?

There must be more than fifty ways to wreck your life.

I sound unsympathetic but I’ve heard it all before

You ask for my advice and then kick it out the door.

So your life is a mess and it is your fault

You should stop drinking all that malt.

Take control and fix what’s broke

Have some fun and tell a joke.

Accept what cannot be changed

Other people won’t be rearranged.

I’m flabbergasted by how much misery is rife

There must be more than fifty ways to wreck your life.

What makes you think I know how to fix your lives?

Go home, be nice and don’t cheat on your wives.

Be grateful for whatever you’ve got

Have you truly lost the plot?

So you are unhappy, then deal with it

Make the changes, hope that it will fit!

Remember many have more to complain about

They struggle on, don’t scream and shout

Learn to play the drums, select a loving wife

There are more than fifty ways to wreck your life.

World Wheel

Tangled thoughts, tangled hair

World spinning in confusion

Birds spiral high in sun’s glare.

Ideas race in vivid profusion

Fiery dragons take to the sky.

Scenes flashing down below

Tiny people observed from high

Above seagulls, over the crow.

Where will I travel today?

How do I discern reasons

In mind’s bedraggled ballet

Unravel revolving seasons

Make sense of random acts

Let nature inspire and switch

Disbelieve most of the facts

Feign wisdom without a twitch.

Will tomorrow bring comprehension?

Or shift us all to a strange dimension,

Can I escape it, if I give rapt attention

Are my hopes for clarity just pretension?

If I’ve misplaced my sanity,

Searching around for parity.

Normal visions for humanity

Defined by noxious profanity.