26
May
Posted by perfectpoetry in asleep, blog, broken, cafe, consumed, Country, creative work, Day, depression, emotion, entwined, evening, exist, feeling, Fight, floating, forbidden, friend, Grave, gravity, guilt, Happiness, heart, help, honest, human, ice age, imperfect, kindred, Love, man, mate, mind, mood, neanderthal, passion, patience, Pen, perfect, poetry, sadness, shadow, short, son, soul, sun, survive, tears, technology, Trees, Uncategorized, Warm, wordpress, words, world, writer, writing. Tagged: Arts, captive, Ceprano, Colour, Consumed, death, Emotion, Fear, friendship, fun, happiness, Health, Heart, History, Hominidae, Homo, Homo heidelbergensis, Human, hunting, Ice, ice age, Life, love, Mind, Nature, Neanderthal, passion, patience, poerty, Romance, sleep, Snow, Soft light, Stone Age, technology, together, Ural Mountains, wordpress, words, Writers Resources. 1 comment
***
Technology – Dream on
***
My dust-covered feet as dust covered the feet of Neanderthal hunting man.
The same sun burns my face as beat upon this rounded back.
Timeless wind breaks the leaves from aged trees, covers my path as they did his.
Rain soaks my tailored cloth, the same rain cast from the surface of his animal skin wrap.
Under branch and leaf he’d seek shelter – cave to dwell,
I seek the same sanctuary under stripped canvas sheet extended from café wall,
My dwelling still a cave, manmade – not carvings of a long cold ice age.
*
Protection, survival and comfort I seek as he, his pressure much greater than mine.
I lose – I lose my house, his loss is his life.
His weapon a sharpened spear – mine a sharpened pencil.
*
Time has moved us to a different place but time is small, insignificant and shorter than thought.
Are we advanced from Neanderthal man, we fear death as he,
We hide ourselves in vodka & cocaine; he hid himself in natural herb.
His high a tiger kill, our’s – a money deal.
*
Surroundings may be, but different – I think not!
Technology does not advance the human craving – we are a creature of habit.
***
Author Richard Gray
19
May
Posted by perfectpoetry in asleep, blog, broken, consumed, Country, creative work, Day, depression, emotion, entwined, evening, exist, feeling, Fight, floating, fool, forbidden, friend, gravity, guilt, Happiness, heart, help, honest, imperfect, kindred, Love, mate, mind, mood, Mum, passion, patience, Pen, perfect, poetry, poetry-writing-sleep, sadness, shadow, Sherwood forest, son, soul, survive, tears, Uncategorized, Warm, wordpress, words, world, writer, writing. Tagged: Arts, Arts and Entertainment, calm, Colour, doubt, Emotion, Fear, friendship, fun, Heart, History, Life, love, Mind, patience, Philosophy, poerty, Romance, shimmer, sleep, Soft light, soon, wave, words, writing. 2 comments
*
RIPPLES
*
Life is a puddle in which we place our foot.
Some gentle – creating nil but a shimmer,
Some stamp from hight – tell the world of their arrival.
**
The shimmer lingers longer allowing time to love,
The high wave breaks through us without time to know.
Yet when shimmer collides and joins the high wave, they both calm and excite one another,
Giving time to the high wave, as to the shimmer – giving purpose.
**
No mind is without doubt, nether shimmer nor wave – yet shimmer has more thought.
No battle won by thought alone – high wave giveth strength.
**
The high wave as the gentle shimmer have both a place in this world.
*
Author – Richard Gray
8
Mar
Posted by perfectpoetry in blog, Cancer, consumed, Country, creative work, depression, driver, emotion, entwined, exist, feeling, friend, Happiness, help, Love, mate, mood, passion, patience, perfect, poetry, poetry-writing-sleep, pot, shadow, Uncategorized, Warm, wordpress, words, writing, writing room. Tagged: Arts, cancer, Colour, Emotion, Fear, Flower, friendship, fun, happiness, Health, Heart, History, Life, love, Lung, mate, Nature, passion, patience, poerty, sleep, water, wordpress, words, writing, Writing room. 3 comments
We’ve driven miles and miles my mate and I, I chat away, he says nothing.
I choose the route, the music, the destination, he chooses nothing, but he’s still by my side.
I stop for a break, something he doesn’t need, nor snack or water to quench his thirst.
I smile when I see his smile, broad from ear to ear, his eyes would light.
He is neither seatbelt strapped or viewing the world go by, but is watching everything.
His patience has no limit, wisdom beyond the years he has behind him.
I dive into the car after a mad dash from the pounding rain,
Shake and brush myself to a dryer state, I make sure he isn’t wet, sealed in his pot, water tight.
Many times I’ve thought of leaving him places, places I think he’d like,
But then my selfish side takes over, the side that can’t say goodbye, can’t let go.
So there he sits, waiting.
His last breath taken on this earth yet four years gone, cancer.
That pot of ash, a spice pot, it’s not really him I know, yet I see the pot it brings him back to life for a split,
Soon I will dust him on the ground, a place I think he’ll like,
Green fields will surround him as he melts into the earth,
His last journey taken by my side.
Author – Richard Gray
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