Nature of man

It is in the nature of a man to seek his mate. But not by
stealth do I approach, but with purpose, and presence
without arrogance or pride.

I have taken my hurt but bear it with grace and humour,
for it speaks and tells of many things to those who have
eyes to see.

Banishing the past from devouring the future, I am now
tranquil. For in truth I had lost my way. Indeed lost to all,
but redeemed by a woman.

Confession of an Angel

Cut me and I don'��t bleed.
Love me and I don'��t care.
Tell me I'��m a Bastard, part of the job.

Curse me, water off my wings, and
You know, I'��m only doing it for you.

Cry for me...? Yes, yes do that, I can'��t,
It'��s not allowed, even though I can see
"��The sound of loneliness, In so many, many eyes."��

Of course I know you don'��t believe me.

On My Way

I thought I was where I wanted to be,
Only to find I was in the wrong place.
Each day a dying, a waste of a life.

Life raced by a'�� pace, dogs barked at wolves
As I passed, I howled at the moon. I paused,
Did not dwell, hardly broke my stride.

Tracked my illusions across a lifetime. Reckon
They kept me alive. But there were times, and
I'm sure you've guessed, when I was glad,
"�� This is a one way trip."��

Tough Guys

A little laugh a little cry? Come on now
who'��s fooling who. Both our hearts are
breaking, yet look how differently we deal
with it, "�� A little laugh, A little cry."��

One for the Road

Maybe you'��ve drunk them, certainly you will
Have seen others do so.
Cold, unwanted, unenjoyed, silently consumed
In an engrossed fashion. The casual drinker not
Meeting the eyes of others, hiding their need.

No one wants to be lost, lonely in a crowd. The
Yearning hidden by the downcast eyes, hating
The sound of loneliness, not included. Isolated
No warmth of human conversation and comfort.

How did it happen? Well it'��s usually a long story.
Likely every direction seeming like a wrong turning,
And some unfortunate chances, with bad endings.
Sadly with no one to listen, no one to care, it'��s
Bottoms up, and, "��One for The road."��

I read all these poems and a lot of the thoughts
are sad.
Sometimes I read them and they touch me deep.
The positive ones that climb out of, "�� the Abyss"��
are the ones I like the best.

I wrote one about revenge and that cheered me up
no end, which is sad to say, but true.
The insightful type never cease to amaze me, and I'��ve
always liked foresight over hindsight, or am I talking about
experience?

Oh well I think I am improving but not yet at my best. Still
I'��ll keep on reading, and maybe one day I might get round
to remembering, I'��m trying to find a lass.

The sound of loneliness, a cacophony of silence
that can only be sensed. A sound so strident, it can
only be heard, in the eyes of another.

Just Great

When I was young a good friend of mine passed away as they
say. Actually it was death that took my friend, which is not a
crime as far as I know, but it felt like one to me.

I remember my friend in their "��Heyday,"�� which means most
of their short life, and I think I'��ll keep it that way.

That smiling sunshining face, that contagious joy. Someone
said,"�� You must be sad when you think of your friend." I said,
"�� No, I can'��t remember anything sad about my friends life,
except their passing."��

I would like to think you're right. Regardless a great poem.
Crunchy leaves, lovely

A Dream

The sweet cool of the morning, hidden in the mist till the blush of
dawn heralds the rising sun, whose rays, sweeping aside the last
vapors, reveals us, as we together share warmth and joy.

I could be with you when the sun at its zenith caresses our bodies
but casts no shadow
The trees giving dappled shade to conceal and confuse the senses.

The lengthening zephyr blown shadows calm our minds our bodies
seeking repose.
A setting sun a prelude to deep purple skies and twinkling stars.
Sated time to rest to dream, and wait for the return of the light.

The Question


She said, "�� what do you want? What would you like to happen?"��
I did not know, and told her so, but the question worried me.
Should I know?

Displaced

I thought I was where I wanted to be, only
To find I was in the wrong place. Each day
A dying, a waste of a life.

Dogs barked at wolves as I passed. I howled
At the moon, I paused, did not dwell, hardly
Broke my stride.

I had tracked my dreams across a lifetime,
Without learning to, or living those lives.
Never knew how to love or be loved.

The search

There is a place I'��m looking for, somewhere
I know I belong.
Not that I'��ve forgotten you understand, just I
Can'��t remember where, but It feels as If I'��m
Close.
I know I'��m going to find it, in good time or
The next.
The past is not my future, and I know there'��s
No going back.
Today is all I have, tomorrow? A day that may
Never come.

Yes, some years ago I decided to forgive myself, and just put
"a smile on it all."

I actually still know this flower seller, who is now 45, and I can
tell the world, she still has the magic. Obviously I was not immune either

Yes it works. Who would have thought of that? A new pair of trainers
are on there way to you. They have 4inch heels, could be a help to you

The Flower seller

She danced, frolicked with a contagious joy of life. The streets,
the castle her playground.
Her laughter an intoxicating elixir. People bought her flowers
trying to capture the elusive magic.
Little did they know, never did they guess, but the beautiful
wild magic was not in the flowers, but in the seller.

Yes, I know of you but I can't quite touch you, but that's how it should be. So what are you?

Maybe the gentle breeze, a zephyr, carrying the smell of wood smoke
On a winter'��s morn. The whisper of tyres on a distant road.

Dogs V Wolves

Wolves howled at dogs as they passed, knowing their
Cousins would never survive in the wild.
But who's to say that, that would be such a bad thing?

Sometimes it is the everyday man that drives progress
Forward. We do need our heroes but, and yes, there'��s
Always a but, the sod does need to be busted.

Up to a point a persons life is shaped by environment,
Heredity, and change. Then there comes a time when it lies
Within their grasp, to shape the clay of their life into
Whatever they wish to become, and say, "��This is who I am."��
Be it dog or wolf.