From Winamop.com

Poems
by Keith Woodhouse

 


 

 

I Am Another

 

I am like water,

But I love my daughter,

I am another,

But I love my brother,

My feelings are numb,

But I love my mum,

I don't feel too bad,

I love my dad,

I've got a blister,

But I love my sister,

I am one,

But I love my son.

 

 

 

a black line

 

 

Poem 3,604

 

Rent asunder

By dozening coves

The many speckled landscape

Barks an angry hand,

As demon spotted berries

Pupil out from pat, buckled bushes,

The dewlark makes a black hole in the

Sky and serenading dawn breaks like

A bugle through the bleeding countryside.

 

And I in the middle of my universe,

Representing several echoes, out of a

Dream comes my dozing, LSD mind to crack

The truth of love over

A glistening cup of tea.

 

 

 

a black line

 

 

Hilton Abstract

 

Killing time

It ain't no crime

We rhyme in time

Time is an enemy.

As the seconds tick past,

From the future to the past,

How long will it last?

To do the task?

That is all I ask.

Still I write and paint,

Like a prophet and a saint.

It ain't not what it ain't,

I paint inside out and upside down,

I paint old man druggies with a boozey frown.

 

 

 

a black line

 

 

Bird's Eye Peas

 

Bird's eye

The third eye,

The eye of a bird

Has to be seen to be heard.

Bird's eye peas,

In the deep freeze,

The buzzing of the bees

In the garden,

The child's den,

A buddha garden-zen,

Fuschias burning bright,

Catching the morning light,

Breakfast on the lawn,

You give a big yawn,

You don't know you're born,

Tomorrow at dawn

You're taking the kids fishing,

Kisses and well-wishing,

The whole weird frisson.

 

 

 

a black line

 

 

The Dawntreader

  

The ice was cropping over the lizard,

Like a red-faced, white-bearded wizard,

His eyes ran circles round my skull,

The patchwork lace has faded dull.

 

The hills all bouncing green,

Valleys split open a nascent seam,

The berries pupil red,

Laser beams around my head.

 

White clusters of stalactites,

White sound that drenches the senses,

In all my eyes and ears it bites,

Blackbirds lined up on fences.

 

Blind and searching numbly,

She comes over all comely,

I shine throughout the land,

I died by my own hand.

 

 


 

a black line

 

More poetry from Winamop

Copyright reserved. Please do not reproduce without consent.