Learning how to forget

Rain falls like my expectations,
black crow in the clearing waits
to feed on hope
that dare raise its head;
all the coloured birds are gone
and another day slips out reach
just as yesterday met its end.

We never talk about the silence,
the uninvited distance,
the clinging pain that taunts me to
“learn how to forget”;
bitter nicotine leaves my cold split lips
as I stand alone
staring at the stars
outnumbered only by the tears I shed.

© D. Archer. January 2013

The Times

I love you because it’s today
(and for other reasons, I forget),
love me in your own way
and tomorrow we’ll fill in the rest;
I love you because it’s today
(and for other reasons, I forget),
remember me when it rains
and quietly, stubbornly, accept;
I love you because it’s today
(and for other reasons, I forget).

© D. Archer. December 2012

The King is Dead

Night slips its weight around you,
your quieting mind to fill you feel compelled,
you cast your silk covered arms and scars wide open
and fashion the image of a reflected self;
but the ties that bind
soon strip away your porcelain skin
and your fragile heart
lays bleached beneath a smothering sun;
all while the lure of loves nectar
entices you forever forward, singing;
“The King is dead,
long live the next one”.

© D. Archer. September 2012

In Absentia

What is offered is seldom delivered,
What is shaped in love is nothing more than a camouflaged cage
and a prison cell with windows
never the less a prison cell remains.

© D. Archer September 2012

Silent Obligation

Too scared to release all the butterflies
not man enough to deal
with the one that remained;
though no silver tongued serpent I
said nothing to stop her drowning
in the depth of my full fathom five wave.

Now blinding white feathers
line my all consuming cave
and our two diverging Frost strewn paths
lie blocked by boxes labelled unresolved emotions
I never faced nor threw away.

© D. Archer April 2012

Psychological Seuss

I did not like it
in the dark
without someone
to share my heart;
I did not like
the callous grin
that subverted smile
above my chin;
I did not like
my heavy thoughts
and hurtful, silent,
sharp retorts;
I did not like
the cloud I cast
on innocents
who just walked, passed;
and I could kill
a room stone dead
with sunken eyes and
words unsaid;
and so I found myself alone
cast adrift to the undertow
posting words
on the internet
slowly drowning
in regret
until my head
above the waterline
the lighthouse caught me
just in time
and so a new direction
slow I swam
to be the man
I Know I can;
Now I am me,
me I am
I quite like this me I am,
I do not like
the me I was
in fact I’m glad
that me is gone.

© D Archer March 2012

1931 – 1977

In the pockets of my life
I have always found your hand
with soft thin skin
and thick warm arms
you safeguarded my eyes
and filled my ears
with your heart’s deep drum.

Countless times the cupboards empty
you fed three minds
with your gift of love
not wrapped once like Christmas morning
or expecting anything in return
you replaced the material
with the ethereal
and gave me time to grow, to learn;
yet I squandered far too many years
on a long imperfect need
until I heard your truth echoed
somewhere across the sea.

© D. Archer March 2012