My love

My love, my words frustrate me. Catch upon my tongue and evaporate. So fierce that they combust. Yet in my mind there are oceans of thoughts for you. In every waking moment. Torrents of love that cleanse and replenish. They flow from me always. As you raise your hand in farewell. Glance at me through…

Momentary Mindfulness

  No, not just a bloom. A swift, carving rising winds; Joyful in freedom.   ©  Tom Tide 2016    

Shepherd’s Warning

The day is but newly struck. Blushing in its naïveté, yet still A Brave New World. Most still abed: whether Messiah or monster (and everybody else in between). What a difference today could make, In its increments of pivoting hands. Shifting digits. Whatever. I take you, day. For richer, for poorer. In rank sickness or…

Beacons

This is a poem about smoking. Burning through a pack of Ten. Ten moments in time. Ten streams of conciousness. Ten pauses.   The first? A smoke screen hiding inner fears. The second blasts the fear, yes every trace. Third one  blows up clouds that squeeze out ashen tears; Fourth a signal, steeling jaw in…

What are you writing?

  No, I shall not look your way, although I might. Not to turn and seek your eyes is a great feat; It is enough to share in this bright bulb light, That bathes us, separated by just one seat.   Yes, I say bathe even though this light is fake, For we share a light…

The Revenant

Who is that? Startled by an unfamiliar recognition, now jolted back from listlessness. All presently begrimed in hazy reflection. Shadows seeping in to corners. This moment, this raw moment reproduced faithfully. Faithfully- in all its grubby hand-flinching nervousness. Backlit gracefully by warm brightness That welcomes you home To yourself.   © Tom Tide 2016  …

Self Portrait, by Constantin Brancusi

A carved face. Your chiselled features surrounded by heavenly curves. Hair whitened as if by flecks flung from your tools. In your chapel of marble, with slender legs Encased in linen, veined like purest Carrera. Arms folded, cradling your strong hands- The soul of your art. © Tom Tide 2016    

Brothers In Arms

Sometimes you have to cross great voids With arms that know you well; That feel, before the bend arrives That you are steeped in hell.   That scoop you up, then drive you on, To make your final stand; Then jettison your flailing arms To lunge toward the sand.   The time will come to…

Nevil and Alf-Part One

To the rest of the world, the leafy  nursing home Sunset Oaks was a picture of calm repose. At 3.26 am even the night staff were asleep, and but for the occasional thrum of the boiler room all was silent. Even the keenest of ears would have missed the jazz music escaping from the soundproofed mahogany door…

Harvest Moon

  I searched frantically for you. Carving around bends and cutting across hills Suffused with evening shadow. Eyes peeled and neck staining; All for a glimpse. My night vision blurred by headlights I all but gave up: Then there you were. Just a glimmer, me playing peekaboo peering through thorny hedgerows to crest a hill…

Would you care to take a turn with me?

Bath came out in its finest and most flamboyant last weekend. Or, as I should rather say, the world came to Bath in its finest and most flamboyant. I was celebrating a momentous birthday with my family on Saturday, and was delighted and perplexed to see several taffeta and silk-attired ladies sailing past me, all…

New Horizons

  You walk as one who has seen many things, Eyes to the front, to meet what is to come; Excited, primed for what the future brings, Yet still a backward glance for Dad and Mum.   School bag and water bottle held aloft, You have a stride, where once there was a bounce; Those…