Category: Twitter Poems

He spoke of the long way
and the tough days
that almost took him under;
you had to be quick
to catch the flicker of light
that sparked his eye with wonder.

I wasn’t born to be followed,
that’s pretty much apparent
as daily posts on Twitter
for the last six hundred
and ninety seven days
attracts just sixty six followers.

When I have finished reading
Tuwhare and Colquhoun and Hunt
I’ll start the work of
pruning my own words,
I’ll pay closer attention
to what it was they wanted to say
and break them out of the rock
of a cold tomb.

I suddenly thought,
these words scribbled
on bits of paper,
scattered across my desk top,
piled in the dark draws,
maybe worth something,
may have something to say
that should be said. Maybe.

I have cleared the desk now,
made space for the words
should they choose to come
and settle on the page
as I wait in the writer’s chair
left by my father.

The song it sings me no more,
it is empty where the music once was,
the rhythm grates like a jack hammer,
the notes are strewn across the floor
and the key that I am looking for
won’t open up the door.

Of all the questions
that have no answers,
there is one that
weeps beside
my dying friends,
makes a liar of my
hopeful expectation,
casts a doubt upon
this claimed interpretation.

It is hard to love
in the face of a bullet
in the flames of the arsonist
in the terror of the tormentor
in the violence of the rapist
in the hatred of the hater
in the mania of the zealot;
‘Blessed are you…’,
seems not an easy yoke.

The hour is fast approaching
The key will surely turn
And in our hearts the home fires
Will slowly start to burn.

Here endeth all wars
all hate, all killing,
all theft, all p labs,
all racism, all slavery,
all oppression, all poverty,
all violence, all dishonesty;
profoundly simple can be the end,
‘love one another
as I have loved you’.