(Original post by Tufto)
Hello. Here are some poems I wrote.
The Limpet Shells
We shall walk upon the beach today,
And look upon the fossils on the sand.
Or better still, the limpets of the rocks,
The creamy forms which toughen on the tide.
Let us look upon their size and on their nature,
Offer up a comment, maybe two-
And enjoy such simple, trivial pursuits,
Flitting about from pleasure to the pain.
Are we truly clinging, clinging all?
Grasping, limpet-like, to earthly shores,
So we do not have to see the roaring sea,
Until the day the waves shall break no more?
And shall these limpets fail on the beach,
Their vow of silence shattered by the storm?
Shall some break, and some survive,
Some tossed away to darker shores?
Walk home, my love; it’s not now time,
Let us talk of other subjects, other minds,
The weather, the opera and the play;
This beach does give me such a headache.
The Long Grass
White clouds wash the sun away,
The frail light extinguished,
The dying dream of innocence.
Dreams of shining suns and faded moons,
Of hot and heavy days beneath a clear sky.
Not of baking riverbeds,
And snakes watching from ferns.
And model smiles turn to rustic frowns,
And the adders stalk the long grass,
Waiting for another year.
Bus No 25
And where should we go to see the lovers smiling now?
Not upon the sun-kissed steps of fountains,
Or romanced halls of careless carnal pleasures,
No; from the window of the bus to Oxford Circus,
With grime-coated sills and paint-flecked metal,
A single hand seen grasped upon another.
Some man with metal-watch and product-hair,
A woman with slowly slithering wrinkles,
Grasping; do they feel,
Some great profoundness cloying the filthy corners?
Some true and perfect being daring to live?
Or does the spiral lead to darker dances?
Does the flesh speak sweeter than the mind,
The temptation lessened by the sadness
The deadened sadness
That desperate longing for our baser instinct
To crush the reason from our deathless brow?
And we take this thought and call it love
Love, with all its meanings and its passions,
Passion for one wall, passion for the other,
Passion for anything but care,
As the spiral leads to the overpowering conclusion:
Love and lust are one beneath the lamplight.