Thursday, 11 February 2016

"Six" | A Poem



This is something that I wrote recently - and with many things like this, it means a lot to me to throw out on the interweb. I might explain this more in-depth in another post or a podcast.

This is a HAPPY poem - I hope you enjoy it :)

I took an hour out of a
Routine of motivelessness and
Overbalance of subjects,
To go down the road,
Enjoying a handful of waves,
Nods of the head,
And twist of some words.

I came across a herd of cattle,
Some way down
Past the bridge,
Laying back as they decided
Which way they would
Heave their weight

I saw the children jumping
Walls in nearby fields
Dodging tulips and
Bluebells to land on
Green grass and
Hay

I cupped my hands around the mountain
And I heard a lark call
Across a pierced sky;
Burnt orange and crystal pink -
I thought what it would
Be like to stay here until
It fades to a bokehed beam
Translucent

Like this skin of mine
That I have worn since
The World cried out against
Mainstream convenience. 
Six small white dots
Arrived for a visit on a tiptoe;
Comfortable,
Familiar,
Homely,
Sparkling on my right hand.

Is this a case of circumlocutory?
There are only pale moons
Arranged haphazardly.

But there are omnificent to demand
The scrutiny of skilled eyes,
Also resting politely with their
Sisters on my neck and
Neighbours on my arm
(All equal in residency)
Unified and unassuming
If hardly noticed,
Remaining as delicate accidents. 

Their anchors may have faltered
At one time or another,
Though they stand to chance another day
The tulips still unscathed,
The bluebells blowing 
Without worry.