{"id":445,"date":"2015-02-03T22:38:29","date_gmt":"2015-02-03T22:38:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/?page_id=445"},"modified":"2021-08-02T00:29:55","modified_gmt":"2021-08-01T23:29:55","slug":"poetry1","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/poetry1\/","title":{"rendered":"Poetry1"},"content":{"rendered":"

Poetry by\u00a0Simon Mark Smith<\/span><\/h2>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

To see a more extensive collection of Simon’s poems click here<\/a><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Click here to see some of my lyrics<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Otherwise scroll down to see a selection of my poems<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0To Talent<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We will meet on Bridges across the Thames at 5 am<\/span><\/p>\n

In smoky bars you’ll capture my heart and<\/span><\/p>\n

At dawn let it go again<\/span><\/p>\n

You inspire my children in laughter<\/span><\/p>\n

Take my thoughts and turn them in to others<\/span><\/p>\n

Lay gifts at the root of my journeys<\/span><\/p>\n

Trickle miracles through my fingers<\/span><\/p>\n

Bring words of peace to troubles<\/span><\/p>\n

Read poetry in the darkness<\/span><\/p>\n

Sing silence within me<\/span><\/p>\n

Give to receive me<\/span><\/p>\n

Your love to<\/span><\/p>\n

Teach me<\/span><\/p>\n

Let me<\/span><\/p>\n

Be<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

November 24th 2002<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Meet Me On The Pier” 18 March 2007 Take two<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And action<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I open the door, you smile at the camera,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The stars that guide you guide me too<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Fast forward<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We climb the stairs<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Rewind<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Your fingers kiss<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Pause<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A moment there<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Slow mo replay<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In my arms<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You rise<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I fall<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Quiet<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

From crying laughter<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Play Animation sequence<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Our naked love Is born<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Lip-Sync<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

My mouth fills with your taste<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

My heart is full of night,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Fade to white<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Your sleepy breathing<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Offers me a fall<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Make-up!<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Then a height<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Jenny is the set ready?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Across the sea the boat lights shine<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The stars that guide them guide me too<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Zoom, then blur<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

To the touch of your lips on mine<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Can’t wait for the rushes<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Roll credits<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“My darling, for your love I thank you”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Jenny<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

For God’s sake love!<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Meet me in the water<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Come with me upon our bed<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Dissolve<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Even if the evening wind<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Catches our last breath<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Lower lights please<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I want to sleep beneath your weight<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Under the same roof<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Is there something you can’t see<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Strobe transitions<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Are dreams your truth?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

End titles commence<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat if what you do<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Kills the love of those who love you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Close up<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I look in to the sorrow of your gaze<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Flash fade<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In ecstatic fear you close your eyes<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Freeze frame<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Jen!<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Meet me on the pier,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Or in the water<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Where it meets the sky.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Fade to grey<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Meet me in the shadows of our love<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Silence please we’re almost finished<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And greet me in the kisses of goodbye.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And cut<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Faith and Allegation<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I am on the side of the angels<\/span><\/p>\n

And the helicopter’s flying high<\/span><\/p>\n

I’m with you<\/span><\/p>\n

In the lightness of this dark sky.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“Just look at that isn’t it something”<\/span><\/p>\n

Just look at me ain’t I somebody?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Well we’re flying with the angels tonight<\/span><\/p>\n

Making fun of their guiding lights.<\/span><\/p>\n

I am with you in this deepest blue<\/span><\/p>\n

I’ve got your left side in my view.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Can you hear them singing<\/span><\/p>\n

Or the blades just spinning?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I am chasing angels through clear skies tonight<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s a difficult differentiation of<\/span><\/p>\n

Faith and Allegation.<\/span><\/p>\n

And the angels ain’t God willing to sit for interrogation<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But you are here.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

28.7.1990 Simon Smith<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What tree laughs so openly?<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Written by Simon Smith on the 12 April 1991<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A pinpoint of light moves across the sky<\/span><\/p>\n

Like a miracle coming into land<\/span><\/p>\n

On the palm of some friend’s hand<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The city smells rise up from the ground<\/span><\/p>\n

To haunt me with associations for life<\/span><\/p>\n

And though I love the smell of wood more<\/span><\/p>\n

I would miss this man made permeation<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It is not excitement<\/span><\/p>\n

But the smell of life<\/span><\/p>\n

What tree laughs so openly?<\/span><\/p>\n

Though what man stands so sturdily?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I look at you and hear words<\/span><\/p>\n

Which I convey to you<\/span><\/p>\n

Like a touch of mathematical improbability<\/span><\/p>\n

We laugh<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

These words will never be so beautiful<\/span><\/p>\n

As when in semi-darkness<\/span><\/p>\n

They become unreadable<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Tonight I am saturated by a feeling of well being<\/span><\/p>\n

The day has moved well for me<\/span><\/p>\n

I will stop writing<\/span><\/p>\n

And you will come to kiss me<\/span><\/p>\n

We will lay in bed and talk gently<\/span><\/p>\n

And this day taken<\/span><\/p>\n

For now has moved kindly around me<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Old Ground<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

To sit and watch the sun,<\/span><\/p>\n

Watch the wind<\/span><\/p>\n

To walk and feel you close inside<\/span><\/p>\n

To take away the pain and sleep<\/span><\/p>\n

Soundly.<\/span><\/p>\n

To live life happily.<\/span><\/p>\n

To walk over old ground<\/span><\/p>\n

Mother puts her head around the door<\/span><\/p>\n

And says goodnight.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1985 Simon Smith<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The Revolutionary<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The picture pans across the sea,<\/span><\/p>\n

To the place you held my breath,<\/span><\/p>\n

In your clenched fist,<\/span><\/p>\n

The revolutionary.<\/span><\/p>\n

The tears you cried,<\/span><\/p>\n

Found their way to me,<\/span><\/p>\n

Like crocodiles,<\/span><\/p>\n

Reptiles tied up,<\/span><\/p>\n

Set free<\/span><\/p>\n

The revolutionary.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

February 1990. Simon Smith<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Where the birds flew down,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I stood kicking dust<\/span><\/p>\n

In the hot long light of evening<\/span><\/p>\n

Two men emptied their pipes on the veranda<\/span><\/p>\n

They looked up<\/span><\/p>\n

Kicking their ashes between cracks<\/span><\/p>\n

In the wood.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

8.8.1990 Simon Smith<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The Fear<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

On the landing<\/span><\/p>\n

I look down the stairs<\/span><\/p>\n

Tell the incubi to walk away.<\/span><\/p>\n

Turn back and go back down.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The storm brings death to the front<\/span><\/p>\n

Takes me back to fear.<\/span><\/p>\n

Where I<\/span><\/p>\n

Talk to the heads on sticks<\/span><\/p>\n

Walk down roads on sticks<\/span><\/p>\n

Kiss the baby in the arms of a mother<\/span><\/p>\n

Kiss the may be in the arms of a lover<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A black man I know\u00a0 walks his dog<\/span><\/p>\n

Looks up<\/span><\/p>\n

Watches his life go by<\/span><\/p>\n

Rolling past in an old wheelbarrow.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Have I kissed you lately?<\/span><\/p>\n

“Have I kissed you lately!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Fear is<\/span><\/p>\n

The gift of thieves<\/span><\/p>\n

Was it a kiss I stole ?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The door opens and the man walks in,<\/span><\/p>\n

Takes his hat off and sits down,<\/span><\/p>\n

Looking down he positions his hat<\/span><\/p>\n

Between his knees.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cries<\/span><\/p>\n

Then handcuffs me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The Instinct Hint Of Love?<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Can we collude or will we collide<\/span><\/p>\n

Will we unite will we harmonise?<\/span><\/p>\n

With one accord and hand in glove<\/span><\/p>\n

A consenting accompaniments<\/span><\/p>\n

Votes of no confidence<\/span><\/p>\n

For my government of love.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The consensus of opinion<\/span><\/p>\n

The adequacy of a well written word<\/span><\/p>\n

Scratched on the back of a gloveless hand<\/span><\/p>\n

Blood comes to the surface<\/span><\/p>\n

But doesn’t erupt.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It’s the tendency of the tender hearted<\/span><\/p>\n

The vulnerability of the<\/span><\/p>\n

Submissive martyrs<\/span><\/p>\n

The potentiality of the<\/span><\/p>\n

Deathless departed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Death is in our inability to communicate<\/span><\/p>\n

The depths of our learning.<\/span><\/p>\n

Meaning turns to dust with the mourning light<\/span><\/p>\n

The irony of dawning<\/span><\/p>\n

The curfew of our learning.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I am left alone listening<\/span><\/p>\n

To the oblivious logic of<\/span><\/p>\n

Intuition.<\/span><\/p>\n

(The adequacy of an inner notion )<\/span><\/p>\n

The instinct hint.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The paradox riddle of\u00a0 lucid foresight<\/span><\/p>\n

The false reading of mystification<\/span><\/p>\n

The confusion of the simple truths<\/span><\/p>\n

The sophistry of the ignor(ant)ing.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I visit the institute of intuition.<\/span><\/p>\n

Am illuminated by past life souls<\/span><\/p>\n

Guided by the shadows of mourning light.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

30.7.1990 Simon Smith<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Poem about disability<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

After a hundred films on the doings of the disabled<\/span><\/p>\n

I am bored.<\/span><\/p>\n

Their purpose of education swamped<\/span><\/p>\n

By their entertainment value.<\/span><\/p>\n

Not another film on being bloody marvellous<\/span><\/p>\n

Either that or a grubby black and white advert.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cerebal palsy thoughts closing the door after the collection<\/span><\/p>\n

And a thousand emotions holding apart<\/span><\/p>\n

Pressures from outside from inside<\/span><\/p>\n

And the door held fast in place.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sympathy preceding<\/span><\/p>\n

Lunch time jokes in the pub<\/span><\/p>\n

Amazement preceding<\/span><\/p>\n

Prejudice at the job Interview.<\/span><\/p>\n

We meet.<\/span><\/p>\n

Me in the way of your easy day<\/span><\/p>\n

You look across to me<\/span><\/p>\n

Your obvious shock<\/span><\/p>\n

Still startles me<\/span><\/p>\n

We talk and I know my words<\/span><\/p>\n

Fall into the background<\/span><\/p>\n

As every move I make disturbs you<\/span><\/p>\n

But time encompasses me<\/span><\/p>\n

Into your version of normality.<\/span><\/p>\n

And then maybe friendship.<\/span><\/p>\n

But I am one in a range of a thousand<\/span><\/p>\n

Physical abnormalities~<\/span><\/p>\n

How awkward life can be.<\/span><\/p>\n

You come to me for an easy answer to<\/span><\/p>\n

How should I be with them~<\/span><\/p>\n

But their is none<\/span><\/p>\n

Even the word ‘disabled’<\/span><\/p>\n

With its Innuendo of worthlessness<\/span><\/p>\n

And its categorisation of millions of very different people<\/span><\/p>\n

Causes me pain.<\/span><\/p>\n

And all these bloody marvellous films<\/span><\/p>\n

What change did they make?<\/span><\/p>\n

You’d still treat me the same<\/span><\/p>\n

If I came for your daughters love<\/span><\/p>\n

How would you feel?<\/span><\/p>\n

I am here to let you see this discomfort<\/span><\/p>\n

Between us<\/span><\/p>\n

Revealing the hidden war<\/span><\/p>\n

My first battle is to make you want<\/span><\/p>\n

to understand<\/span><\/p>\n

I show you the pain,<\/span><\/p>\n

As you degrade me knowingly<\/span><\/p>\n

Or in ignorance<\/span><\/p>\n

You tell me I’ve a chip on my shoulder<\/span><\/p>\n

But my humanity leads me to anger<\/span><\/p>\n

So I can’t stop wanting to disturb you<\/span><\/p>\n

From a complacency you’re so ready<\/span><\/p>\n

To excuse<\/span><\/p>\n

I have realised the impasse I face<\/span><\/p>\n

You close the door and choose an easy life<\/span><\/p>\n

You ease the pain with humour<\/span><\/p>\n

And simplicity.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

circa 1989<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Go No Further<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Written by Simon Smith on the 27 July 1991<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This is some sacred book written in the half light<\/span><\/p>\n

All out<\/span><\/p>\n

Of town<\/span><\/p>\n

All out<\/span><\/p>\n

War was written<\/span><\/p>\n

In the early months of my pregnancy<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I never felt safe stepping out of bed<\/span><\/p>\n

And in bed I looked at some one<\/span><\/p>\n

out of sight<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I stepped out of mind<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

She said “look between my legs,<\/span><\/p>\n

what do you see”<\/span><\/p>\n

I saw red<\/span><\/p>\n

Like a red hole that smelt strange<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t like that” and I got back into my bed<\/span><\/p>\n

“Go on touch me again” she said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Later I learned to spit<\/span><\/p>\n

I spat and she liked it.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Come here and touch me again”<\/span><\/p>\n

Spit with a smile and I’ll hide the blame.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

How anger leaves you standing naked<\/span><\/p>\n

Normally in crowds of non attentive strangers<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What joy in cruelty<\/span><\/p>\n

And pain in love<\/span><\/p>\n

“If I could kill the sadist”<\/span><\/p>\n

Said the masochist<\/span><\/p>\n

“If I could just kill the anger”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“You can<\/span><\/p>\n

So go no further”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

1986 Simon Smith<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Beauty and Death<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Come here and place your hand across my mouth<\/span><\/p>\n

Silence my whispers<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When I said you were beautiful it was true<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn’t mean it<\/span><\/p>\n

I just had to tell you.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You took an old cat and drowned it<\/span><\/p>\n

How anybody could I really don’t know<\/span><\/p>\n

You said you meant not to<\/span><\/p>\n

But death is the friend of your frenzy<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What meaning comes from meaningless words<\/span><\/p>\n

More than words you meant to say.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe I won’t marry you in Heaven<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Written by Simon Smith early (April?) 1991<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe I won’t marry you in Heaven<\/span><\/p>\n

But I’ll hold you through the night<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe not everything’s forgiven<\/span><\/p>\n

But I’ll wait for you<\/span><\/p>\n

In\u00a0 this springtime evening light<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I ask questions long before their time<\/span><\/p>\n

And in gardens of my heart<\/span><\/p>\n

Swing from answers drawn in kisses<\/span><\/p>\n

To momentary lips apart<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Cigarette smoke gently touches me<\/span><\/p>\n

Two men sit outside<\/span><\/p>\n

In muffled Creole, soap and beer laughter<\/span><\/p>\n

Catches me tenderly<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Sadness and humour mix this grey sky<\/span><\/p>\n

To some lithium orange cast veil<\/span><\/p>\n

For fear of dying the stars are lost<\/span><\/p>\n

Behind altitudes of reality that bare<\/span><\/p>\n

No resemblance to you – especially.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

There’s an old man who I want to see<\/span><\/p>\n

Turning down my invitations<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe he thinks he can delay death<\/span><\/p>\n

Because he knows it will be<\/span><\/p>\n

Our last ever conversation<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

If I could be just one person<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I would be the one who loves you<\/span><\/p>\n

If I could freeze these ocean\u00a0 waves<\/span><\/p>\n

I would time the moment to break<\/span><\/p>\n

An overwhelming emotion over you<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A gypsy woman’s walking<\/span><\/p>\n

My friend’s grandmother to the car<\/span><\/p>\n

After thirty years of waving at the door<\/span><\/p>\n

There’s a reassurance in this goodbye.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Georgia On My Mind<\/span><\/h3>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

As I walk down the stairs away from my fathers flat<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I imagine you leaning against the wall<\/span><\/p>\n

Back arched, looking in to my eyes<\/span><\/p>\n

I walk past you<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Not to ignore you<\/span><\/p>\n

But I know this is wishful thinking<\/span><\/p>\n

Well really I know nothing<\/span><\/p>\n

I am trying to walk away from the not knowing.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I would try to think about what words I could say that would make you want me<\/span><\/p>\n

But I know love can’t be persuaded, petitioned or bought.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A flashback memory,<\/span><\/p>\n

We are close up,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe a foot away your face in darkness except a band of orange<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Streetlight falls across your eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We are outside your house at night in my car.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I am reeling,<\/span><\/p>\n

Trying to reel you in,<\/span><\/p>\n

Un-realing the situation,<\/span><\/p>\n

Reeling in feelings that I have preferred to watch get away lately.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You tell me you are worried about your bad breath,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I smell nothing and if I did would not mind<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I want your breath inside me, good or otherwise.<\/span><\/p>\n

You tell me later that you’re bum is too big,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But something in you and I<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Has clicked me into a feeling of love towards you.<\/span><\/p>\n

I take you as you are.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I would take your worries as a positive sign, if it weren\u2019t that you\u2019re a bit eager to go.<\/span><\/p>\n

There is no feeling of “I must go” said 10 times over a 2-hour period.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It is “I must go” and then you are gone.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Your last words are<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“A Woman may like bastards but after a series of bastards she realises the one she wants was the sweet one she left at first.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

To this I’m thinking<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

“do I figure somewhere in this scenario?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Which character am I?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Should I wait 20 years and see how you feel then?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe I don’t figure there at all, and this was just a good bit of advice<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Passed down through your maternal descendants and ignored similarly.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

When we kissed earlier you’d said my kisses were so gentle, you had tried to kiss me hard,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I’m not so young any more to kiss in a way I don’t want.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But I’m not so wise that I bothered to ask what you really wanted.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I watch you walk off as I drive away<\/span><\/p>\n

It looks like you’re holding a cat to your shoulder<\/span><\/p>\n

Maybe you’re talking on a mobile phone<\/span><\/p>\n

You fade off symbolically into the darkness<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I think back in to the evening<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Memory 1<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You are dancing with a friend, slow motion dancing, you ask me to dance with you.<\/span><\/p>\n

I tell you I am an English male and would rather die! If we were alone I would curl around your limbs.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Memory 2<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Your eyes looking into mine squinting slightly,<\/span><\/p>\n

at this point I get that melting sensation that I need to be there if I\u2019m to love a lover.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Memory 3<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I say how much I like the design of the bar’s silver matchbox and you look at me quizzically.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Memory 4<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Wisps of your hair brushing up to my face in the wind as we walk back up to the riverbank from a jetty.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Memory 5<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The feeling of your body next to mine when you jokingly make love to me for 2 seconds<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Memory 6<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You trying to throw a lifesaver ring in to the river and me stopping you,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

This one is like a dream warning me of the dangers of playing with you.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

You are half Irish \/ Scottish and half Jewish,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Your physical look stuns me,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It actually hurts me because you are so beautiful \u2013<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s the pain of knowing this isn’t going to happen<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So the sweetness reminds me of being a child when I drank ink<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And was told I would die.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A few days have passed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I know if I keep away from you<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I will lose you in the river bank sands of my mind.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

So I accept (without any dialogue with you) that there’s not going to be an “us”.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

After all I had said that I didn’t want to stop kissing you because I knew it wouldn’t happen again and you had responded in an indignant manner saying “suit yourself”.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I now fantasise that I am asking you to be straight with me and tell me what you feel,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

That if you’re not interested to spit it out because<\/span><\/p>\n

I haven’t got time to waste chasing after people who don’t want me.<\/span><\/p>\n

This is not borne out by the last 20 years of relationships, but maybe I’m changing- I doubt it.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Instead I write this which I may never show you until it\u2019s safely too late.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

29.7.2001\/2018 Simon Smith<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Poetry by\u00a0Simon Mark Smith \u00a0 \u00a0 To see a more extensive collection of Simon’s poems click here Click here to see some of my lyrics Otherwise scroll down to see a selection of my poems \u00a0 \u00a0To Talent \u00a0 We will meet on Bridges across the Thames at 5 am In smoky bars you’ll capture…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"","meta":{"cybocfi_hide_featured_image":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-445","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/445","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=445"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/445\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3689,"href":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/445\/revisions\/3689"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/simonsdiary.co.uk\/wordpress\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=445"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}