♦ From my book ‘Nothing But The Rain’ (Surprisingly)♦ Through life’s chaos Did she die grounded? He promised ardor, Asking only what she saw Before the fading light Of elapsed finite presence, “Nothing but the rain” She sincerely appealed, Falling through the universe, Spiraling star that she was, The cooling eternal winds Filled her earthly... Continue Reading →
We slip against the starlight shores- A gathering of distance stands before those repaid dalliances- must it play those evermore- six string hearts and department store romances- for her heartbeat her refractive epiphany locked into our palimpsest- imbued in eloquence wrapped along the shifting veil of wondrous nightscapes- I wait- inshore for examples of remorse-... Continue Reading →
Rain hammered its presence Upon my shattered existence, Existence ran its melancholy Fingers across my forgetful face, Your face emerged from burst clouds, Droplets created fractures inside, Inside, that provocative guilt crept Its way back into sorrows heart, My heart remembered, You, me, us, them, love, fate, hate, Hatefully your eyes burned Into my soul,... Continue Reading →
The rain transplanted state of mind to fixtures of distinguished stretches, resistant to conformity and hallowed leaps, benign through requiems of healing found, Skylines six feet underground where life moved in golden shadows, the little drops, the augmented skin, soul's away today, waiting for inclination’s visualised within, without, legacy and collection, Simple smiles to awaken inner understanding,... Continue Reading →
Do our dreams dampen? Deluge dashing between drops, distant rivers burst.
I walked winds where feathers fell as heavy rain, each droplet taken for lesser days, and I? I lived so many lives. Poem © Phen Weston 2015
The rain runs its tracks, Shadows hold their place, What transcendent refractive ease, Soaking each deficient mirage With simple phantasms, We wait to see the murder, The floods of a new year, Some falter with banks burst, Trapped in the churn of self dominance, Horizons glimmer, it is urge, Betrayals transferred, And we sink, inflicting... Continue Reading →
*A quick poem on the move, and a new form of Waka (Japanese Poetry) for me: the Bussokusekika. It is very similar to the Tanka, but with an extra line of 7 syllables at the end* Waters through heaven fall among the crowded streets, the Geisha, spellbound beneath unearthly downpour, has only her oil-paper umbrella, makeup and tears. Poem © Phen Weston 2014