This room is full of ears
unseen hidden but
their aural white noise hiss
strokes my face in anticipation
begging me for a word
I speak
Friend
the offering is rolled
into corduroy rhythms
pitching and yawing
for all its worth, tossed
through a silent maelstrom
drowned within a counterfeit buzz
a further contact
velvet now
and the room breathes
Enter
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
Monday, February 29, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Pro Bellus
Me,
easily a misanthrope
ugly masculinity
stinks,
paints its skin
and spits venom
through gritted teeth.
No
give me beauty, where
I will immerse in
form and curves,
softly accented voices,
graceful limbs
and lithe fingers,
skilled, manipulative
sure.
In this bliss
my gnawing treatise
will splash out
onto the page,
a helpless ejaculation
rubicon of joyous ink
embellished with nothing
more than nubile juice
to watermark its authenticity.
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
easily a misanthrope
ugly masculinity
stinks,
paints its skin
and spits venom
through gritted teeth.
No
give me beauty, where
I will immerse in
form and curves,
softly accented voices,
graceful limbs
and lithe fingers,
skilled, manipulative
sure.
In this bliss
my gnawing treatise
will splash out
onto the page,
a helpless ejaculation
rubicon of joyous ink
embellished with nothing
more than nubile juice
to watermark its authenticity.
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
Thursday, February 18, 2016
Paper Cuts
You hold my attention
with both hands
as if cradling a cup
brimful,
careful
not to let my eye contact spill.
but the drone of your magpiety
begins to seep into my sense,
mentally I begin to fold,
an origami defence
fashioned quickly to
a blank prayer book.
Our beliefs are enemies
who have never met,
despised images never seen,
dogma unheard.
but my paper creases
become sword cuts
to your fumbling fingers,
my angular points
spears for stabbing your
feverish eyes
thus as paper folded tight
I am defended
albeit blank,
speechless.
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
with both hands
as if cradling a cup
brimful,
careful
not to let my eye contact spill.
but the drone of your magpiety
begins to seep into my sense,
mentally I begin to fold,
an origami defence
fashioned quickly to
a blank prayer book.
Our beliefs are enemies
who have never met,
despised images never seen,
dogma unheard.
but my paper creases
become sword cuts
to your fumbling fingers,
my angular points
spears for stabbing your
feverish eyes
thus as paper folded tight
I am defended
albeit blank,
speechless.
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
Sunday, February 07, 2016
Card
You cannot know
isn't that the point
anonymity?
and, I'm not sure
how you'd react
if you did know.
Things would change
irrevocably
I'm sure
and I'm not prepared
to lose you,
the tiny piece
of you
I do have.
So wonder on,
be curious
tormented
angry.
Should you ask me,
outright
face to face,
I'll laugh
look you in the eyes
smile, and say
you might be right.
safe in the knowledge,
no-one believes
a card.
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
isn't that the point
anonymity?
and, I'm not sure
how you'd react
if you did know.
Things would change
irrevocably
I'm sure
and I'm not prepared
to lose you,
the tiny piece
of you
I do have.
So wonder on,
be curious
tormented
angry.
Should you ask me,
outright
face to face,
I'll laugh
look you in the eyes
smile, and say
you might be right.
safe in the knowledge,
no-one believes
a card.
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
Tuesday, February 02, 2016
Puthering
Here hangs an unlikely chill,
come ephemeral clouds,
myriad gnats
to dance a busy stitch
around the warming air,
ecstasy unknown to man
futile crazed chaos
frantic,
before the fickle drizzle
casts each one asunder
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
come ephemeral clouds,
myriad gnats
to dance a busy stitch
around the warming air,
ecstasy unknown to man
futile crazed chaos
frantic,
before the fickle drizzle
casts each one asunder
© Graham Sherwood 02/2016
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