Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter

Life, Poetry

81/2023

I carry guilt about everything
Around with me everywhere.
It is a toxic chemical in my system
Which throws me off balance; my
Mind, my body, my soul – if
I have one. My stomach heaves
And empties with the weight of it.

Life is poison sometimes
When we’re not in control.

The weather warms my back as
I stand with the sun behind me.
That calms the rage, and leaves
My mind soothed for a few valuable
Seconds to leave me feeling valid.
In the shade I feel empty again,
And cold

Then up the stairs again
To the everyday.

R 22/03/2023 13:31

I carry guilt about everything
Around with me everywhere.
It is a toxic chemical in my system
Which throws me off balance; my
Mind, my body, my soul – if
I have one. My stomach
Heaves with the weight of it.

Life is poison sometimes
When we’re not in control.

The weather warms my back as
I stand with the sun behind me.
That calms the rage, and leaves
Me feeling valid. In the shade
I feel empty again,
And cold.

Then up the stairs again
To the everyday.

R 22/03/2023 13:45

I just went for a quick shop, and Missing by Everything But The Girl came on the radio as I was most of the way home. A poem I had started late this afternoon started finishing itself, helped by some shadows on the pavement. I pulled into the drive with the song still on, pulled out my phone, finished the poem. I think it’s possibly too good to share on here right now (I could of course be wrong). So you’ll just have to make do with the two versions (again) above. My fingers are numb although it’s not that cold. Old man circulation. I crave the heat in the shadows rather than the cold shadows of England, full of spectres…..

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2 Comments

  1. ren

    23rd March 2023 at 04:02

    love it when that happens

    1. Richard Pierce

      23rd March 2023 at 20:55

      it is great 🙂

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