Month: Mar 2011

I Knew Two Lights [poem]

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i_knew_two_lights

An age ago I knew two lights
which hovered brightly in my eyes;
on an eighteen-carat platter
they were served without goodbyes.
But fate made the strangest turn
and took away their glow;
then latterly (not by chance)
they came into the fevered flow
of my mute meandering mind;
and now I disturbingly find
that I must
unbury the dream
revisit the scene
renovate the theme
rekindle the joy
reawaken the pain
repair the destroyed
restore the gleam
by the going-through-of-it-all again.

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Startled Shoes [sonnet]

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startled_shoes

Where is the open heart I vainly seek
who will not flee from love in startled shoes;
who, when kissed, will show her soft undercheek,
for whom defensiveness is not a ruse?

Where is the forthright face, unspoilt, wide-eyed
whose stratagem is only beauty, peace
and truth — whose countenance cries humbled pride,
whose mystery unfolds without a crease.

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Ironing

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I love ironing. It’s the only situation in the world where you can take something that looks like shit and transform it into something wonderful in less than five minutes!

© 2011, Alan Morrison

The Tarnished Lotus [poem]

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the_tarnished_lotus

Once upon a time,
a Golden Lotus nestled in
this throbbing heart of mine.
But over all the years of bloom
and fruits upon the vine,
so quietly it tarnished
and lost its pristine shine.

At first I didn’t notice
or feel the subtle shift;
equivalent geographically
to continental drift,
in which the surface stays the same:
until an earthquake happens,
there are no signs of risk.

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Taking Crap from No One

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My top New Year’s Resolution this year was to take crap from no one. If anyone gives me crap, plays silly games with me or messes me about, I simply walk away with a smile and a “so long, have fun”. So far, I kept it. I had to use it a few times already. Only thing is I end up sitting on a mountain-top all alone and contemplating my navel. There’s always a trade-off! 😉

Oh You! [poem]

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oh_you

Oh you! whose religion is repression,
whose nakedness is anger,
whose politics is leave-your-mind-behind,
while wearing an indignant expression.
Oh you! whose nationality is frontiers;
Whose perfume is regret,
whose smorgasbord is Attitude Buffet
while sitting on myriad fears.
Oh you! whose face is made of rubber,
whose hobby is despair,
whose heart is like a weathercock
in foul and windy weather.
Oh you! whose hopes are a semi-colon,
whose energy is glue,
whose philosophy is “couldn’t-care-less”
so long as it suits you.

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Cyrano de Bergerac

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Cyrano de Bergerac, on hearing that Molière had stolen a scene from his play, said: “My life’s work has been to prompt others and be forgotten“. Too many untalented relics of mediocrity steal the limelight – often through plagiarism and clever PR – while the real geniuses remain in the shadows until they shuffle out of the world in obscurity. Such is greatness in this illusion-loving world.

When you are not Here [poem]

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when_you_are_not_here

When you are not here, it is true:
that nothing else could take your place
that no one else could be your face.
But there are so many other things
which serve as temporary wings
to elevate my vexéd thoughts
and ease the stilted space marked ‘naught’
which hangs before my eager eyes
like an empty well of broken sighs.

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Second Best [sonnet]

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second_best

Advice: always settle for second best
Do not imagine you can find your dream
Reconcile yourself to being like the rest
Always compromise, non carpe diem

Cauterise your grand imagination
Rebuke yourself each time you think of She
Know you’ll never find that soul-vibration
Content yourself to be fulfilment-free

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Till I Met You [song lyric]

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till_i_met_you

Till I met you
I never wanted to fulfil
a woman’s every dream
to want to find solutions to
her every whim and scheme

Till I met you
I never thought that I could be
in someone’s company
and never want to be unhooked
and never to be free

Till I met you
I never talked on telephones
for timeless hours of woo
or till the battery faded out
whichever first came through

Till I met you
I never wished that I could be
forever by a side
I never wished my lover said
“when I become your bride”

Till I met you
I never had orgasmic waves
just looking in some eyes
or barely touching fingertips
(I swear I almost died)

[I will miss those timeless rides
to the moon and back again
Dazed that everything could die
With a dread dash from my pen]

Till I met you
I never thought that time would stand
as still as silent leaves
I never had a Golden Box
upon which hung two keys

Till I met you
I never saw a smile which burned
its way into my soul
while laughingly ensuring that
I never would grow old

Till I met you
I never thought that I would bring
an idyll to an end
but Ice Queen frolic freezer types
I’ll never comprehend

 

© 2011, Alan Morrison