Graffiti On The Train

I think I’ve had enough

gonna get myself a drink
before chiselling out your name
upon the passing subway wall.

You can verbalise me down
send my dreams nowhere bound
along with your, rough edged
explanations –
kicking hard against my reasons.

Why don’t you try to make me stay
plant me flowers – wild sown.
Colour out those visions of scenes once viewed
from dirty, bedroom windows
whilst sleeping all alone.

Call me sometime, filling
in those lost, empty spaces.

Can’t promise to ever pick up
still too busy reading:

Our forgotten
graffiti on the train …

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The Departure.

The lengthening spread of night
sinks my vessels filled

the lights, unhappy properties
draw me colour blinded to their sleep.
With wonder – when he stops to ask;
that I am exhausted’.
Then let it not come, by stranger’s mouth
I reply.
For I should listen only, to sounds lighter
than the wind,
dancing in the dry cotton grass.

 

Poppy
April 28th 2015