my daughters beau

He picked me
put a smile on my face
he picked me
the world's a brighter place
a kiss to the cheek
was all it took
young love - steps by the book.

Going underground.....150

They say you have to be a right 'Charlie' to ride just one stop,
though I guess the occasional trip....
But rush hour is more like a shuffle
waiting, waiting - many deep
hopeful of a space on the next ride
reminiscent of Dunkirk

150 seconds to the next train
150 commuters crammed into a space
that would be comfortable for only a third
anywhere else and this proximity would be assault
unwanted intimacy send many to seek solitude
close eyes, listen to a beat - hold breath

150 steps as the escalator has ceased
to drag us skyward, again
a brief sprint into the bottle
neck and neck to the exit barrier
always behind the ticket that refuses to release
its protest for the sub-surface experience?
huff, puff - though steam has long departed
into the slalom of meandering tourists and the time rich
towards daylight, our salvation.

The power of the sun

Sun is warming concrete, people are coming out
Your face catches rays, your unmistakable pout
Standing proudly in your favourite summer dress
hugging the body I desire to caress
the developing tan, now ten days old
a break from reality makes you younger, bold
relaxing saying nothing by the beach or pool
this holiday romance breeds a love sick fool.

Carnival

Slopping against weathered wharf
mist laden murk tide to the halogen haze
penned in maisonettes dabbed with colour
reminiscent of the heavy make up of ageing whores
who know better than to be here late

Splattering of droplets click on cobbles
rhythm joined by the out of sync clack, clack
reverberations of the 8ft shadow
disfigured by uneven walls and puddles
softened through the dark hooded cape
tethered by the windless eve

Searching eyes, recessed in the flawless smooth face
lips that will never speak nor smile, almost unnoticeable
to the exaggerated beak, its prominence
hideous to the frightened youth, out casted to its peers
refuge, an opening to piazza
escape from this vacant back alley - ah Venice.


a challenge from @frenzyofflies and @santha_g to break my 'block'

Thoughts adrift

Interior cabin, all contained
Attempts to deal with loves raw pain
Loneliness brings forth defeat
Drifting thoughts  - bitter sweet
The view here is sterile, blank
A return to you, a toast drank
Journey to its ends, my means
Desire so strong, my hopes - dreams.

Realisation

Light of day cold, so called
A morning after thoughts crystallised, actions frozen for all time
Time to reflect, the toss of a well thumbed coin
More often, than well thought through plans
However this day, tomorrow, is mild
Already warming to the winter heat
And soon the New Year, new you - reinvention.

Cruel parting

Bullets rain, abruptly halted by some
alive, yet broken careers and ambitions
spun round, survivors weep at their relative security
lessons retaught, always someone elses toy
friendships once shared, fade as the light does from this day
to look back may reveal another way, a different path
an honour to lead, yet to a destination not of their making
harsh words and spite, will not right this woe
take pride in what faces were scaled, and peaks were stood
to be surrounded by stars.