Nearly November

Yesterday's poem.... pah not happening. Oh well, I did say I didn't know what to expect. Not going to write a whiney poem about it because it hasn't hit that strong of an emotion. I only write sad poems when I really feel it. 

The grey cloud of the sky
sat heavily on the trees
the leaves caressed by the
blowing of the chilling breeze.


All the colour beginning to drain 
it's a sad view clogging up the brain
when the cracked and dry cement 
and the sky look the same.


Winter is fast approaching 
it's icy breath is all around 
and in the middle of it all 
is a lone and single sound 
of our heartbeats slowing down 
ready to rest our summer dreams
upon the icy ground. 


Just thought I'd point out I'm using a bit of artistic license. It's not that cold yet and I actually quite like winter :') just so you don't get the wrong impression that the cold depresses me a lot, I am a fan of the woolly jumper and what not.

Natural Reactions

A spider crawls up 
the veins
it's leg brushing the skin
it scuttles across the shoulders
almost as if sinking in.


A rock plunges
in to the pool of the heart
freezing ripples spread
through out the body
muscles quickly torn apart. 


A gloved hand 
strokes the face
red spreads, quick 
the hands go slick. 

Cold

I know I wrote a poem about the weather heating up. That is not the case today -.- and I was wearing not the most sensible clothing walking home considering the temperature. 

It's like a stone
dropping through your chest
icy ripples
spread in a second
and then stop in the next.


Air stroking along your arm
but not quite
touching skin
for the skin is covered
in a thin layer of frost


The warmth teasingly 
drifts 
from reach
its shoulders rolled back
calm, 
lips curled in a snarl.

Journeys in the Snow

I walked home in the snow

footsteps softened

fresh, clean steps

as if I'm the only one

to have ever walked here.

The cars ripped up those

fresh, clean steps

turned them in to 

a mild no man's land

right in the middle of the road.

I saw a boy on a scooter

wheels valiantly turning

a mean part of me

wished him to fall

he did not. 

Blue Skies

After being smothered by a blanket of grey
for far 
far too long,
seeing a mere smudge of cotton blue
kissing the edges of grey
with golden sunlight
made the cracks in the pavement glow
the oil stains burst from the cement
like fireworks.


Winter still has its arm around the country
embracing it
everyone sharing its body temperature 
but its heart is beginning to pump
and together
we're beginning to dethaw. 




PS I took the picture for this one about a year ago - the two match quite well I think :)