Ray & Redhead

Poetry please


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Welcome to our poetry blog

Here is an uncivil partnership made in heaven, a platform for mutual provocation, a public exploration. We’re using the language of the heart alongside the harsh syllables of anger and discontent, stretchingFootprints meanings and metaphors to their limit and pulling words out of shape – respectfully, of course. Our subject is life, in all its shades of red, blue and grey.

Read on, explore the buffet – find some dishes to your taste, perhaps reminding you of a meal you ate once and enjoyed. We don’t promise all the flavours will be good for you – beware of acid indigestion and remember to add a pinch of salt! But why not go ahead – absorb some tasty morsels turned out of the creative kitchens of two other souls?


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Wishful Thinking

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In a desperate attempt to communicate

I threw a stone into the ocean

 

The water being vast and deep

it took the ripples an age for you to reply

 

“If the moon and the winds and tides align

I’ll meet you on the shore”

 

Between us there is a wistful understanding

of the transience of life and death

 

Here we sit on each side of the divide

hatching a reunion that we are taught cannot be


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Just One of the Boys

bloomsday
He was hell bent on errantry
The kind of bloke
rugby songs were written about
He was all black eyed, foul mouthed
and broken teeth
He saw himself as a real ladies man
though he never actually fell in love
with a woman, just with women
He saw them as thieves;
Irregular plurals
That stole his heart
after the first drink was bought
and then disappeared as spirits in the night
.
.
 .
“It’s true what they say about women,
it’s an irregular plural.” – Hovis Presley


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Commedia dell’arte (another self portrait ; 2017)

119Harlequin67

I write poems of an honest and

personal gossamer like frailty

Melded with playful misbehaviour and love

Occasionally I run naked

swinging free and vaulting the cricket stumps of life

Though I’m often clothed in harlequins garb

Given the chance I’ll pull your teeth without anaesthesia

Attempting and often failing to

joke or say something foolish or witty

I take snapshots and potshots at the

people and things that I am obviously superior to

who are entitled to my opinions

Self effacing and admiring

I have been called pretentious

Ha!  Moi?  Mes chansons sont sublimes

But in the main I’m usually digging my self

into a deep and early grave with only a cushion of dirt

to cry into and nightmares to poison and destroy my dreams


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Tripping Down The Rabbit Hole of Paranoia

So this was fear

Real fear

Not merely being frightened by a sudden snap of a twig

or imagined faces in the fabric of the curtains

This was fear in its purest form

It possessed me totally until there was no me

Only fear

Violated

I realised that for over the longest time I had been holding my breath

Tension and nerves kept it in and I feared to exhale

should its soft whisper give me away

For what felt like a lifetimes worth of heartbeats

I had been still

Alone with my thoughts in a room full of danger and strangers

As right as only the righteous can be

I held my ground

Sure that God would support me and my legs would hold

Marking out time by the terror of the hammer blows in my chest

I felt the fear forcing the venous pulse to rise in my neck and to

bubble from my pores like gasses from an ancient pool

He spoke and I dared to stir

Coming to consciousness I faced my judge and executioner across the desk

He held my gaze in an unwanted embrace

“It’s good news Mr Bramford.  All the tests came back normal”.


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Nyköping

The woods in the snow
Leading to the ice on the lake
Have a sinister beauty
The sun breaks the branches
Like a projector’s bulb
In a Scando film noir
You pass a typical house
All rust red clapper-board and dark glass
Save for a single dim light in an attic window
She stands in the doorway
Blonde of course, with woollen tights and
Knee length boots
She offers a smile and coffee “to warm your bones”
You feel compelled
You enter the kitchen
You sit at the scrubbed wooden table
Before you can remark on the pretty fretwork
She cuts your throat
Very cleanly and very efficient