regret

Prelude

Tears extended

Overlaid with betrayal

Over watched with guilt

Another tissue discarded

Scrunched and screwed

Filled with regret

The room thick with sorrow

Clogged with slow acceptance

Of wasted time, of failure

Denial cast with remorse

A double edged coin

Of a fading currency

Outbound again

It begins

The slow lurch of movement

Pulling away from you

 

For a time I can still feel

The ghost of your lips

linger

On mine

The caress of fingertips

Echoes through my hair

Roots damp with sweat

The remainder of memories

Left with me

Within me

 

The scent of you

 

Breathing deeply it is all I can do

To revive the memory of you

Hands clenched around me

Skin soaked under your heat

Forcing a smile to my lips

 

As I sit absorbing the dull vibrations

Closing my eyes to blurred landscape

Shutting out the rumble of the carriage

Cursing that which takes me away from you

Beyond repair

It barely shows at first
Just a hairline fracture
Nestled beneath the rim

The slow erosion over time
Overuse making it’s mark
On creamy porcelain skin

Pressures of everyday life
Gnawing against it’s existence
Forcing the blemish to grow

Branching out across the belly
Of this old china teapot
Weakening both surface and below

We see them of course
Yet don’t worry about the strain
Continuing to fill it to the brim

As long as it’s job is done
The outcome still the same
We won’t question the state within

Until that one day
Water will seep from the cracks
Dampen wooden worktops
And split open from the pressure
Only then do we acknowledge
And despair at it’s demise

Modern Day Surrender

How frustrating it is.
After resisting such taunts
A whole day without you,
filling my thoughts.

Twenty four hours,
Without you inside me.
My mind in a scramble
it’s you, undeniably.

I banish your words,
Try clearly to think.
Yet the impact of you
Drives me to the brink.

As your name flashes up,
Right there in the list.
Try as I might
I just can’t resist.

Impulse takes over,
my resolve so weak.
You win and I lose.
So much for mystique

The text disappears
My pride has been thrown
Oh why did I ever,
Pick up that dam phone!

Words passed over

My mind turns back the clock
Your alabaster skin pressing against mine
My lips suckling your fingertips
Seeking a cure for a ravenous hunger
Fervent desires merging into white-hot energy
Exploding into a cascade of glittering kisses,
Wrapped up in the warmth of your soul

The words danced along my tongue then
But I imprisoned them
How could I open up that door,
only to watch you walk out of another?

Politically Incorrect

Thought I would share an old one today…. though it seems that he crept his way into the top rank anyhow *shudders*

 

Dear Mr Shiny Face,

For too long now you have eluded my pen
My thoughts left to tick,
tick,
instead of tumbling to the page.
The grin you wear hangs uncomfortably
Upon a painted mask fashioned of thickly ground concealer.
My first thoughts were a of a letter,

I would of course write to inform you of the ways of the common man
To ensure you were well versed in the disgruntled opinion amongst us lower ranks.
I had wanted to inform you of the growing sense of apprehension, the slow incline of annoyance
The rapid decrease of patience from quiet unassuming men.
I imagined your desire to reach out and bridge the gaping chasm between us
You would reply with a short note, maybe a text to show how you were β€˜down with it’
Yes the letter would be a warning, no, a friendly nudge.
An acknowledgement from one enlightened being to another.

My baked beans tainted the joke about the Peasants revolt and your head on a spike.

And now my apologies, I never got around to sending the letter.
Somehow work got in the way, essays for Open University, caring for parents, time spent
worrying over budget forms, slowly working away to repay debts owed from being too young or
too stupid to say no to bank charges dressed up as insurance.
The letter it was forgotten, until the first splash of news.

RIOTS!

Riots hit the headlines,
Panic rose, smoke filling the sky like a heavy cloud of dissatisfaction.
Images everywhere of greedy self indulgent children and adults jumping on the band wagon
Pain felt by every decent person to see their city disgraced, trampled and left broken.
Sirens blared as fires were set ablaze, vultures picking at the remnants of peoples empires.
I thought of you and the letter whilst i sat holed up in my high rise flat.
The police car sat outside like a cat waiting for a mouse
Reports on the internet flickered and screamed out warnings of horror.
Brave men shot at for defending their livelihoods; this is the state of the morality.
No longer do I feel the urge to invite you around to talk things through,
over a lukewarm pasty.

I have lost my appetite for plastic politics.

Yours sincerely,
A.Pleb

Regrets of a Saviour

The collar holds tight around my neck,

You buckled me up yet look nervous

When I snap my teeth and snarl.

You put this in me,

Gave me my fight back.

Poured a fire into my belly

Too ferocious to stamp out

You awakened in me a lust that had died,

Fanned a flame of existence

Reignited something in the darkness

That which slumbered peacefully

Unaware

Until you rattled that rusty gate

Yet now, here you stand

Hesitant

As I strain against my leash

And all the while you think

How to subdue me once more.