Fallen Marker
A construct de-constructed
Scattered.
Demolished.
Marble carved words
Muddled now,
Muddied.
Problematic,
No translation,
An undecipherable code.
Soon the wind will blow
And the words will be dust.
Erased from memory.
Mixed in earth.
Lost.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forgotten Dead
In this city of death
Sculpted stones lie prone or tilted
Like crooked teeth much decayed.
Fallen markers and forgotten names.
The RIPs of the dearly beloved
Lie here muddied.
No floral tributes laid.
The forgotten dead.
Laid here by the equally forgotten
Man's construct de-constructed.
Scattered.
Demolished.
Marble words once carved deep
Now weather worn or greened with moss
Are muddled, becoming a problematic script,
No translation,
An undecipherable code.
Soon the words will be dust.
Erased from memory.
Mixed in earth.
Lost.
poem by Paul Brookes
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Perfume Trail
Only memories shreds remain.
A tinge of scent,
A perfume trail,
A butterfly rustle
From watered silk.
An echo of her laughter,
A reverberated memory,
Where now silence heavy lies
And solemn shadows dwell.
Her things lie where dropped
Dust draped, abandoned,
Waiting vainly for her return.
The pots and powders
That were her beauty aids
Bereft, no more needed,
For she has gone;
To lie in her deep bed
In cool funereal earth.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poor Fools
Poor fools we are-
We cannot seem to touch.
Although we are so near
A heart beat apart,
But we are walled off
Each in our cell of misery.
We built this wall high.
Cemented it with our tears.
Set each brick with pain.
Disected our love.
Sliced it into a thousand pieces;
Cut each other with cruel words.
Until it withered - died.
And we are left with dust.
P H Brookes Copyright 2011
poem by Paul Brookes
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Entrances and Exits
Love entered quietly
Remarkable in its simplicity
Yet unmarked.
Unremarked, stealthily.
The event had no advent.
Uneventful.
Eventually it was noticed.
The start of an adventure,
That which had gone unnoticed.
Full of its self,
Self fulfilled,
Came to the fore.
Forward centre stage,
It staged its own event.
A play.
Play on words,
Put a word in.
The last word.
Sad word,
Password,
Passed words.
To faded away,
Unremarked.
Quietly love exited.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Flat pack
Constructed at will
By will constructed
Instructed at will
By will instructed
If anyone knows will whose real name is bill
Can you ask him instructed him
To construct it?
Is he the instructor?
or the metagrobulizing instructor?
And who is he instructing?
And what is it, he is constructing?
If all truth is constructed?
On construction,
What dreams may come....when we have
Shuffled off this
Vast man made construction site
That will, did will construct it?
'All the world's a stage'
poem by Yvette Smith
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Words
Words can wound.
Even those gently spoken,
But they can also heal.
Breathe balm.
Pain is a thread that runs through all lives,
Its lies entwined with the joy.
P H Brookes Copyright 2003
poem by Paul Brookes
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No Pity.
Hear the anger of spoiled youth,
With their hard words.
They have no pity.
Spewing out their bile
To mangle and eschew.
We live with their forbearance.
We the old and frail.
Who once like them
Gloried in the sun,
Were gods in our day.
Now we moulder
Like staues left out.
Too long in the tooth
We peal and crack.
Split by iron frost.
Weathered by rain.
Worn down, tired, by
Untenable trials of life.
Ah but our inner lives,
There we live again as gods,
To glory in the sun.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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When Death Knocks
When death knocks
I shall fling the door wide
Rush into his embrace,
For I am ready.
He holds no fear for me
Why should I fear a friend?
One I have known all my life;
Who has accompanied every step,
Helped me on my way.
No I shall not fear death for
He will cut my earth bound chains
And his kiss shall set me free.
Copyright 2012 P H Brookes
poem by Paul Brookes
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Nightmare
What are these nightmare thoughts
That keep at bay the slumbering night.
Where no sweet dreams me do attend,
And all a tangle in my sheets
Do toss and turn infernally.
My pillows scattered on the floor
Like snow white islands upon the sea.
Oh wretched night I do you fear,
Sore wishing for the light to come,
So that all my doubts and fears shall fly.
Burnt away by the blessed sun.
But then all day I live in terror of the night;
A living wakeful dread.
I fear the dark descending
And the tolling of the midnight bell.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012 ©
poem by Paul Brookes
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No Obituaries
Hot words spat in anger.
Things he wished not said,
But genie like out the bottle.
Nipped from the heart.
It lay there between them
This last murdered piece of love.
To late for resuscitation
It lies dead and cold.
No obituaries needed.
P H Brookes Copyright 2011
poem by Paul Brookes
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When Death Finds Me
Elated I have dived to the depths,
Found the beauty in a leaf,
Bathed in the rainbow,
Gloried in the dawn,
Found solace in the rain,
Run with the wind.
I have heard the voice of the hills,
Seen a world in a blade of grass,
Sung duets with the birds.
I have let the stream of life
Whisk me away....tumbling
Wash me in the exquisite,
When death finds me,
As he does all,
I shall not be sad, .........
But content, for I have lived.
P. H. Brookes Copyright.2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Departed
The house lies empty
Hovering on edges of my senses
The faint trace your scent
As if you have just slipped out the room
Soon to return.
Pick up where you left off.
The shelves are powdered with dust
Grey as my thoughts.
The room lies cold, barren,
Dead, for your spirit is absent.
A book lies open where you left it
The story stalled never to be finished
But yours has ended.
And I, I still have mine to finish.
Copyright P H Brookes 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Snowflake
When the day dawns
Bright and crisp,
The snow yet to fall
Hovers on the horizon
In laden black clouds.
The chill air hangs ice,
Breathing on trees,
Sliding down drain pipes
Making zylophone icicles,
Playing a winter's tune
The wind whips scintilling,
Vibrating the telephone lines.
An aolian harp, zinging,
Then a silence covers the land,
Shivering in antisipation......
Awaiting the first snowflake.
P. H. Brookes Copyright 2012.
poem by Paul Brookes
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Destiny Has Carved Your Own Path...
do not utter so many words
one goodbye is enough
more of those talks do not
serve this journey well
there is only one direction
and i shall follow it
there is only one code
and my heart keeps it
do not follow me
destiny has carved you a path
i am not lost
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I Rise in Joy
Oh skittering magpies
Harbingers of perdition.
Black tongued cajolers
Chattering on the bare limbs.
Do you foretell my death
Or do you laugh to scorn,
Cackle at my misfortune?
You ill omened birds,
Be not the augury.
You teller's of tales,
Bringers of despair.
You heralded my loss
And fed upon my despair.
Flee from me, away,
For I am a sun reborn
And, Nemisis.
A scourge to burn,
Scour with penetrating light,
To leave you only ashes,
Wind blown memories.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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Dust In The Wind
Music : Kerry Livgren
Lyrics: Kerry Livgren
I close my eyes
Only for a moment and the moment's gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, a curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Now, Don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oblivion
Living furious,
Our fireball existence
We rushthrough life,
ladder
the
up
Step
To
On the fast track.
Burn up,
We ignite a flash.
A bright conflagration,
A blaze of glory.
Then crash into oblivion.
And are no more,
Not even a memory.
P H Brookes. Copyright 2011
poem by Paul Brookes
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Solitary (Stream VI)
Solitary,
Alone, yet crowded in.
Hemmed in.
Penned in.
Encircled.
The flow of the crowd pulls,
Surrounded you surrender,
Are surrendered,
Surrender yourself.
Rendered down.
No longer alone,
Yet lonely.
Left alone.
A lone voice
Crying out,
But ears are deaf,
Eyes blind,
Lips dumb.
No solicitude.
Not touched
You lose touch;
Numbed you remain lost,
At a loss with your loss.
You remain alone,
Solitary.
P H Brookes Copyright 2012
poem by Paul Brookes
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An Act of Love (Stream VIII)
Joyful,
These lovers entwined.
Who lie together,
Lying side by side,
Beside the stream.
Upon the grass,
Under the tree,
Below the silver moon,
Beneath the starry sky.
Starry eyed with
Stars in their eyes,
They eye each other.
Lips meet lips
Honey sweet.
A sweet embrace.
In that moment
The world stops.
Joined as one,
One with the earth
In an act of love,
These lovers lie entwined.
P.H. Brookes. Copyright 2012.
poem by Paul Brookes
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Kiss a Nave
(Kiss a Nave)
I remember our prayers, of dim purview
as in a hazy mist our roads coincided
I see a painted blue window in misty dew
a parallelism to seize a cause one-sided.
Were our roads deceits of broken asphalt
a cold feeling or a debt on every station
you wore a pendant, of a bright emerald
and a carved Siren's smile of negation.
The Auster blows to whirl clouds of dust,
surrounding the place of your pedestal,
my outside dreams from domes glassed,
kin ghosts will blow my walkway coastal.
And as the wind caresses me like fingers,
I smiled to my solitude, a warm welcome;
to stray ghosts on paths memory lingers,
to piers, waves of oracles explode foam.
Lunar, confidential murmur of sea waves,
nepenthe blue; takes my hope to mirth,
sea-foam flies in the wind to kiss a nave,
a sacred space we stood on sandy firth.
Copyright © - G. V.- 01.04.2012 / PH 29347841
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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