Biography
Glasgow based Poet, singer/songwriter and simply a lover of words. Jack of all trades though master of none :-) Beauty is everywhere, you just have to look! X
Samples
Glasgow I came here to write for you! Try to say something new. Profound! I sit gazing at Glasgow's fine landscaped-estates skylines falling into one another, clouded, endless, polluted puffs of smoke cascading over Glasgow's ever growing architecture. The towns steeples with their cross that bells and chimes with such great loss. Towers glowing like fallen angels! The trees... those strong masculine trees, A pillar of society? Bare and Grey, slight shades of autumn still in bloom, apart from the evergreen. The mesmerising waterfall, that stands alone with such poise and grace, A serene ballet dancer. Dancing to the sounds of the old and tired, of days gone by, Brass bands... The blades of glass so sharp, so sweet so beautifully placed in a seductive, secretive street. Trimmed to perfection almost like glass take a look... take a chance... The houses, the tenements, I've still to visit them. Evils and angels frequent them. Some sway forward with time. Some remember my name. Dragging me back from whence I came. The successful, the elitist the rich and the free, Are free from restraint of life's liberties. On the other side of town, now that's another tale; It's how the other half live, and the other half fail. The streets, if you dare... Unblinded, you'll see. It is a completely different, unexplained territory. Life's pleasures are rife, the quintessential knife drip... drip... Dripping blood from life, a conscious dagger. Some of the razor city, See money grow from misery. The drinker, the smoker, the gambler, the jagger all fall from the the same bloodlines Joggers flood by, not a care in the world pounding the dark paths. Lovers kiss in their precious park, maybe meet up after dark! unaware of what their futures hold. I wonder what those trees have seen! The park benches that where once bustling with noisy neighbours now stand, silently, lonely flirting with passers by, all too quick to get where they are going. An old lady passes me bye. She has sailed these streets uncounted times before: The changes; the war, her life, the strife The crime! She exhales deeply the saddened, unimagined beauty of the years that have past her by. with a sight of relief crystallised tear in her eyes. I can over hear two strangers, telling tales: fishwives! I try not to be enticed by their wistful wisdom, talking about the revolution. A single Rose wilts in sight daffodils coloured by yesterday's pain, sit stagnant. Still, those mellifluous, unbending daffodils, refused to be torn, bent by the winds wicked ways. Some fully blossomed, others, just seeds, or lightening bulbs still to endure, the persecution of winter and many sprightly, springs to come... L. Henry
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Blog entries by Liane Henry
The Butterfly Effect (19/07/2015)
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