I am not a Silent Poet.
Editor Reuben Woolley.
stand back to spite the craving, look on as from afar. people, some write hymns & mantra others watch tv, not the news. oh no not the news, the truth is too depressing, a bit near the mark.
i guess yours sleep in bed, loved and cherished. others love and cherish , yet their families sleep in mud, on streets.
the words came suddenly. an odd day, no gentle people to woo thee, day of stress, and horror, you watch the news. a day of reality, the reckoning that nowhere is safe.
come in dreams, the shape of your face remaining. there is a line now, dreams and aspirations. words and degradations. lines deepen, water etched.
the rain falls round our houses.
salt in the wind.