You have two ears for a reason

We say
the most
with our
mouth shut;

I feel
the most
when we
do not

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011 

I was just thinking of my mum who says “you have two ears and one mouth, make sure you use them in that proportion”.

Dirty Thursday

You in my shirt leaves me
in a state of unrest;
you make the coffee
I make the bed;

You enter the bathroom
and use it like a tardis
you emerge like a butterfly
and I see how grey
my life is;

do not stray too close to me
do not step into my cage
but please drop by
and drop more of your clothes
not just on Thursdays.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011

My Tyburn Tree

shining kaleidoscopic white
she bleaches my eyelids
out from the inside;

the sun is shining
the sky is blue
my head overflows;
memories of two;

it all will fade
you will tire;
others with a lighter smile
will call to take you higher;

does the sun really shine
or do the clouds just give way?
free to think this forever
I kick the stool under me

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011 

Another open book

My life is an open book
but the pages are blank
so I am fucked.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011

Thought long and hard about the profanity and today is a day for profanity, if I watered it down I would be running away; again.

For this I paid full price

This morning weighs
as much as
all the wheels
on this bus;
I’m tyred;
I’ve lost the ticket;
I paid full price
and I’m desperate
to get off.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011

A bad day. Apologies for the pun.

The Rules of Exhaustion

Write every poem
as if it were the last
you would ever write;

bleed every emotion
from your life into every
word and line;

then seal it
in a letter to yourself
to give you comfort
just before your time;

if it makes you smile
with your last breath
your work is done
and you may pass
to rest.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011 

My Silent Witness

You, my peerless outcrop
born of millennia
against all elements you resist;
yet this relentless northerly depression
will, in ten thousand years,
cut even you beyond belief;

Many will trespass in your shadow
their footsteps pooled with
unseasonal grey;
rivulets in war-horse tracks swollen;
overgrown with weathered weeds
that survive despite brushed
near horizontal;

Respectful travellers will ask
you bear them directions and
piercing the low slung clouds you
steer them to villages sparse;
adrift, in the blurred valleys beneath;

In reflective guidance
with the palest moonlight against your glacial,
dark scarred skin you skim
a salient path to where they may rest;

They plan journeys homeward
over half pan horizons
back to guest house, shower and bed;
you remain my silent witness
until the sun breaks through swaddling clouds
and those lost in the heather
are found dead.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011 


An Empty Tank

The last time I looked
you were not me;
not even a ghost
but a shadow
you see;

It is on the inside
not the skin;
it is dark
when the sun shines;

trust me
the tank of empathy
is empty
for what I
have within.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011 


I do not
know you;
you do not
know me;
curse the ocean
between us;
burn every sea;
boil every river
until they are
but dust;
then I will
run to you;
then we will

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011