amidst this company of billowed ghosts

the echo bed of swollen heads belies

a gory hail of  rain chined inspiration

for my chiselled host and

hides cathedral vaulted cuts

of the deepest time

where darkness sparks

in resonant rhyme

and breath affords a gaudy boast

yet dies upon the budding lime

belly crawled while underneath

the aven’s insolent draught

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Hello friends

 It's been a long time coming but Pt:3 of The Communications Trilogy is finally upon us. This time concentrating on the dreaded audio device of menace, the telephone.

 I've been fairly productive recently so I will be uploading a couple more Poems in quick succession, please take the time to have a look and as always feedback is welcomed.

Telephone

Lost...

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TUNNEL

Tumbling end over end down the black nothingness of the tunnel, spinning down breaking my bones, bruising my flesh in a violence of movement.

Now, numb with pain I pass out as all my blood drains from my veins to be replaced by ice-cold fear. I’ve never been so afraid, all I want is peace, to rest, to sleep, to die.

My life is taken up by this tunnel, never ending...

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Ragged

man on the street, I

turn my eyes so I will not meet.

Disgusted?

No, but see my possible life.

Fear in my heart, is all hope

busted?

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`

When you reach the forgotten age
like 45, between 40 & 50
you realise that you need someone
by your side to remind you
that it isn't who you're with
but what you feel in your heart
they say life begins at 40
they also say that it's the mid life crisis

for sure you're no longer young
and for sure have not attained seniority eithe...

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