Poetry
Green
night leaves
a boy sitting in a puddle of light
pulling loose thread from his jeans
her (telephoned) voice still whispers
in his ear like the rustling
night leaves
dripping stale dew on his face
rusting dark-ringed eyes shut
he imagines what it would've been like
but she quietly declined and
night left
a boy curled up on the floor
drowning in the morning sunlight
dreaming he is far away
where it's still night
Jonathan Euvrard
http://www.geocities.com/siberianeagle/
Tick
the clock behind me
ticks slowed to kerchunks
up close text mingles and swims
out the window real life
groans roars shouts
a year away
bell screams a scenery change
science is history
intercepted by maths
which is inclined to drag
put my head on the desk
(it's her lap
and she's stroking my hair)
i can see her sitting just there
t - i - c - k
i can see she doesn't care
Jonathan Euvrard
http://www.geocities.com/siberianeagle/
Touch
I tried to sculpt her today
but could not see her
felt her moving in my hands
smooth and supple reacting to my
clumsy touch
let her softness sss
-lip
through my fingers
pressed my palm against points
which disappeared inside
rounded curves and
lifted
rubbed
squashed
p-i-nched
but I could not see her in the
dead lumps of clay
she was cold and far away
Jonathan Euvrard
http://www.geocities.com/siberianeagle/
Sleepless Night
I sent you blank pages in the mail yesterday
I sent you blank pages because
I can no longer trust
Anything I say
But somehow I must
Find a way
Of expressing myself
It must find a way to come out somehow
It simply must find a way out
I watch the sun set and rise
The nights seem like years
And my cold, weary eyes
Are near driven to tears
And yet I cannot express myself
I wish life were simple
I wish that one day
Somebody would walk up to me and say
'I understand you
I know and I care
I've been to Nirvana, and I'll take you there'
Jonathan Euvrard
http://www.geocities.com/siberianeagle/
Extracts from "Thoughts"
i punched him once in the stomach
and twice in the face. i picked him
up and threw him over the couch
then jumped on him, hard, dug my
heels into his head
in my head
he lies there bleeding and coughing
~~~~
the thick cushions of mist
in the valley this evening
couldn't even catch the light
let alone me
~~~~
right, let's see: keys, money
money? -- always useful
ten minutes there, ten back
out the back door, over the fence
where am i am going, what's my story?
think up something good later
slow down, just a normal steady walk
take the route behind the church
across the fields and under a bridge
car headlights! shouldn't people be asleep?
okay, this is her house now
around the side, third window along
stop. what the hell am i doing here?!
sure i'll apologise, but for what?
i'm not sorry for what i am, or what i've done
voices through the window now, laughing.
laughing! under a bridge, across the fields
running, behind the church, stop. hide in the shadows...
~~~~
it's not like it is in the movies
where one can hold that pose
in the window forever
give me something to do
because this takes so long
i'm trying to picture you
running up to me shouting my
name and throwing your arms
around me
like you did the other night
is daylight really that strong
does the radiation burn away
familiarity
or is fate holding a
magnifying glass
focussing the
rays
severing the connection of years
of tears and smiles and soothing
words
one clear blue sky washed
bright blue eyes clean of love
or did one sip of love intoxicate
a smile with lies?
~~~~
lust would be nice
if you could turn it
on and off like
an electric blanket
but
lust is more like
a hot water bottle
which you find dead
and cold in the morning
~~~~
Jonathan Euvrard
http://www.geocities.com/siberianeagle/
