By: Alex Placid are waters Which conceal turbulence, Churning under film Of obedience. Deeper, far deeper Runs the channel. Hidden from view And kith and ken. Carries the flow; Peace is striated Torn by persistence Of memory and thought. Rattles the trap, Shakes the cage, Banded glory, Shattered age. Poet’s truth tells Eggshell blues; Distorted meaning Inveigled news….
By: Alex A kind of kindling, sparks awaken from dormant carbon. Dreams burn across the brow Through the heart. Across the senses. The town is sleeping through the winter’s clamour The wind is simply a snore, or a murmur unknown to the self. Doors closed, windows rattled by thrusting, prying hands Snow, hail, rain….