Things Poetic

 Consequential loss Loss...what is it could it be Losing ones soul support or Life  often is  seriously sick waking again, peering out, close the curtain                                                             not today, my brain says                                                                       not now, my soul screams                      fuck this world loss never ends missing something that will never be filled, replaced, understood loss

 Florence Calls Train taking the weight across the space between here and Florence,  clickers clack, would have been the sound once, now its a swish, as the speed drags the excited faces from the built up city, across the green rolling hills (well, brown currently) through the hole in the earth pointed towards Paris sunlight flashes into the eyes, and the speed increases towards, once stopping, a quick rush to the eastern side and the next tav journey starts, via Germany to Florence art, culture food, wine autumn joy alone, and not lonely

 Confounded Sports on the screen in the room, moving faces, bodies sounds of bodies smashing others, referees whistling sharply,  bruised and broken bodies lift themselves up from the ground groans, deep gasps of breath My eyes try to focus on the screen, how many ? Im not sure the empties line the floor by the bin slowly stand,  by the stumble and weave its about 6 empties o'clock water time ?   Maybe one more for the road what road is there ahead, as Im already home sit down again wake up in the early morning, the bottle balanced in my hand, unspilled groan, confused I wander unsteady to bed out like a light to wake in a blur int he morning and start it all again

 Trust Such a fragile animal, in person its open, inviting, transparent accepting and non judgemental, seeing the best not expecting the worst,  not looking for falsehood, duplicity, alternatives transformed into a scattered, broken thing, so easily, by the simplest thing it spots the lie, or the half truth, the time you get told something that plainly cannot be true and thats it lost no coming back, ever

 Smile Wake up, unkempt, poorly slept interrupted head, pounding heart unsure, unclear why, confusion meets the scattered sunlight, blurred eyesight, scintillating  false colours, waiting the walls with rainbows standing, staring at the curved mirror unrecognisable features, old haggard puffy bloodshot showered and brushed mirror again, face cracking into a poor smile todays mask,  tomorrows puffy, haggard visage returns

 Sunflowers Face changing, always seeking the heat turning and following crowds following each other seagulls on the beach, watching  all watching seeing everything saying nothing being beautiful