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Aberystwyth, February 1978

Standing at the brink

in off-brand corduroy, dyed wool

picking apart the sunbeams

with your one hand slowly

closing.

The funicular sings silent

the third curve of dust-white

aggregate is steeper still

and behind you lies

the vast bowl of swallowed

time, the shattered stopwatch

shards hanging loosely

quivering swords

over ripped Polaroid.

 

You drop the ...

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whatever

Sports Day

Afterwards you came to me

and asked

'Why did you slow down

before the end?'

I had not realised

I had

 

The blue glass sky

bled us sweat-dry

and lurking

in the corner

always the eyes

the eyes

 

Inside all was madness

and crushed teal ice

for all of us

my mind's stalled

back in time

for what?

 

I could not shed

the cloak of air

I'd...

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whatever

Scrap Philosophy

Hate is for the jilted,

no-go refunds

and markets saturated with remembrance.

I'd like to pick tulips

and prise up weekends for play,

we'll scream

down corridors and

is that not enough?

 

Dreading penance I don't want

rain days, just candles

and cars, the road

and space

to dream and walk.

 

When I fall too far

you call me back

and I'll open the le...

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whatever

you can probably guess the title, there's a theme going here (03/09/2020)

 sitting
at the bottom
of a well

everything looks so small from down here.

as a close acquaintance to nothing
I can tell you that time is relative to
the steps I take towards a biological death
but not the wrath and reaping in-depth
well-lit and liked
by a narrow spoonful of silver moonlight.
were it so easy to call it
death
but down here time remains bereft

cobblestones worn sm...

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whateverunkillable

MATES

 

Glad to hear your voice 
Happy to be with you 
Always, you're very nice 
Whatever you say or do 

 

Lucky, to be your friend 
To share you fact and fun 
Forever together no end 
Shining heart as the sun 

 

Among thousand fans 
We're the mates in reality 
Sharing act and talks
Hearts believe in Honesty

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actalwaysamongbelievebenazouzdoendfactfansforeverfriendfungladhappyhearhearthonestyluckymatesnicepoempoetryrealitysaysharesharingshiningsuntalksthousandtogethervoicewhateverwith

Moon Haiku (or 'How Poets Can Pale Into Insignificance')

Full moon wreathed in cloud


like black pepper smudged on white


ghostly negative.

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whatever

Father

1981, the year a blue stencil,

verso, gloss off-white,

unstuck blu-tacked, loose framed,

sun-curled image

your grin and your cow-lick,

and causal wear,

your ghost in my machine.

A bawling, squall, curtains

of hail and rain hang outside,

ladder, paint, spots and tans

and frayed carpet,

the dark, shaggy corner swamp,

where I found you, sideways-stacked,

cracked...

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whatever

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