Category: Poetry
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love left alone
If I caught and kept love It would be no love at all Love left dying at last grasp Dust and leaves floating in its wake. If I fought for and left love I would be the one to fall Love lying faithless hope left to clasp At emptiness cleft to my selfish ache. If I nought but let love flow As if it were second breath Let alone no thought to know But love’s depth and width and breadth.
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Opposites Detract
Of course you truly love that other. And expect them to live for you completely Until they morph into that new another The one that doesn’t care even proportionately. Yet think upon this! That bloody minded other Knows full well that living for another Is their one and only true saviour Why? It’s in their oblivious behaviour. So when you find out, as you will, their actions clash with their belief It will be poor comfort now, take the pill, it’s the best long term relief You will finally find that two people living for each other are in fact Proof absolute positive that opposites in time can only detract.
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Poetry on the Route 19 Tram
The girl on the tram is sitting opposite me. She can’t see me : I’m seated diagonally she taps her phone I see her fingers reaching Down deep into the heart of what she’s writing. She glances up scans all around looks down again I keep my head down. Meanwhile her fingers nimbly Lengthen in intensity and velocity While mask, glasses and scarf hide Her frown or smile she’s masked besides I’ve no intention of catching her eye. Because there is no way she’s writing reflexively Nor is she writing voluminously Neither blogger, tiktokker, pen friend is she I sigh to my self finally and knowingly She must be, like me, writing hidden poetry.
Andrew James Whalan 