It ain’t no good
in looking back
and wishing otherwise
for times have changed,
all things are past
and we alone remain.
Words from the Jagged Edge of Truth
Month: April 2019
His voice a gravel road
his heart a broken tune
a low rumble of a song
that waltzes with the
light of the half moon
in the darkness of the
closed room.
In the rain
we dance
drink deep
life’s stream
go with the flow.
She removed her
eye glasses
to wipe the lens;
I saw her then
in that moment
as she was.
I’m sitting in the middle
with nothing in my hand
feeling kind of empty
no feet for the promised land
where the shadows of loss
stole from this hungry man.
Sometimes when I think
of your longing
and your misplacement,
I am reduced
to the sadness
of a white, road-side cross.
It’s a long road of neglect
got a millstone around my neck
looking for someway to resurrect
the voice of the architect.
I am lost in the space between us
and I do not known how
to bridge the gap
for you are beyond the reach
of everything I have taken
and I see no way to restore
these things or to retrieve again
your heart.
Effortless loop
of its wing lifts
the white-faced heron
to a tree-top perch
alight with the rays
of the setting sun.
The Thursday Poem
4 April 2019
Lost To The Hunger
Sometimes we should be counting the stars, bathing ourselves in moonbeams or skinny dipping in the black waters of the full tide – instead of cloistering ourselves away so that we fail to be touched by the magic of these and the other things that make us come alive.
Lost to the hunger
Tonight the full moon is centre stage
edged by golden-threaded clouds
that roll and tumble across the sky
holding back their deep, dark rage.
And from the brow of the hill, the estuary
glows in shadow and silver light,
aluminium foil, fragile to the cut of words
hidden behind tightly drawn curtains
where aces around the card table
count for more than the hungry
pull of the moon on the tide.
They say the fishing will be good tomorrow
with the ocean full upon the shore,
but the moon will be lost in the blue light;
lost to the hunger and the will to fight.
Mark Raffills
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