Poetry Poems

The Flat Earth Society.

I think:
The globe spins and
Carved images shimmer 
The mind eyes colour
And rhythmic roads beat
Paths through waterfalling words
Sentence structures to scrape sky 
I architect my creation.
He said:
I don't understand poems. 
World flat lines
Words smear on paper

Radio You

I am the broadcaster
I fracture ideas into language
Are you the receiver
With crackling signals waiting to be read
Distorted symbols: missive to analyse
Purported poems: message to synthesise
Thoughts are made cryptic
Cipher locked without keys
My radio heart keeps transmitting 
Not knowing if you are tuned in

Dirty Protest

This is dirty process 
Mind excreting verses 
Slogans thrown in anger 
Daubed on wall of website
Misconstrued by stranger
Wishing poet rather 
Stage a hunger strike or
Just accept in silence 
Life is nothing more than
Solitary confinement


This blank page 
Knows already that I 
have not known
This blank page
Has already on it 
something else
This blank page
Knows already I'm not 
Scribed upon
This blank page 
Has already on it 
My blank page 
Waits so ready for my
Own poet