On My Own
On My Own as I read A Man Called Ove I stare at the emptiness that was you, And try to put you back together From bits of memory and… Continue Reading
Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter
On My Own as I read A Man Called Ove I stare at the emptiness that was you, And try to put you back together From bits of memory and… Continue Reading
Neither love nor loss are stilled By the passing years and youth, Nor the edges of that memory Extinguished when the light fades At the end of one cycle beginning… Continue Reading
A hole in the silence, Vacuum in the nothing, Denser than the quantum, Darkness beyond lightless, Weight past measure. No time, No motion, No space, No being. When the centre… Continue Reading
Fourteen years and 5 months ago (not to the date), a very good friend of mine, T, died of cancer. I dreamed about him last night, that he’d somehow faked… Continue Reading
In memory of LHI. My mind is full, butMy mouth is empty.I scribble the mind onto another pageWithout speaking.I have grief on my mind,Of an unknown kind. II. The taste… Continue Reading
I have saved last year’s snow for you,stored it in the freezer next to my foodand other artefacts of past life,before scientific brutalities,the shedding of emotion,your loss,my loneliness,a sudden fear… Continue Reading
A year ago today, a friend and fellow cricketer, James Grigg, was killed in action in Afghanistan. I wrote the poem below when I heard the news, and was honoured… Continue Reading
The last four months have been difficult, to say the least. Not difficult in the struggling to make a living sense of the term, but in the where is this… Continue Reading