Tuesday, 21 February 2023

Five Poems by L. Sydney Abel

 





Crown of Thorns

 

Crown me with your heart

Look into my soul

Remember I’m not in any pigeonhole

Am I what you expected?

 

Hot coal upon my mouth to burn my lips

Now absent of evil

Remember me not as I rot

Decay ties love unaffected



 

Touching You

 

Eyes that view

Fingers move gently from toes to nose

removing clothes

Touching you

 

Passion true

I’m infatuated with only your skin

          pleasurable sin

Touching you



 

Aspect Immediate

 

Fear is calling

          and veins trumpet the message

sending sound into every silent corner

 

Storm is clearing

          and seeing receives the picture

          stretched imaginatively into every hidden scene

 

An elderly man comes and stands in frontal view

he looks deep into witnessing eyes

          stares through time and says look closer

 

See a life

          struggling

swimming through rain

walking on rainbows

playing on the back of pain

Being is just the same

 

The elderly man has a beautiful soul

          and even though he shows sins

          his life was lived through experiences



 

Rip Us Apart

 

My other me loves me

          and I love him can’t you see

Some times he’s beastly as can be

          and all I want to be is a church key

 

Open the door and hide

          my inside has died

Lock the door and stay

          identity downplay

 

A voice in the distance calls ‘Why won’t you listen to me? What have I done? Let me make us a cup of tea. We are together for the long run. I’ve got news…’



 

Come Together

 

My other me is calling me

          I’m of the mind to disagree

Sometimes I can be as beastly as he

          rip us apart to be set free

 

Unlock the door and run

          I’ll not be outdone

He takes my hand to join

          for we are of the same coin

 

I can’t rip apart

I’m crazy art

We are counterpart

What’s the news?

 

The cogs in my head sometimes slip

          they grind in a sepia trip

          like a rusting machine

          being mechanically hip




L. Sydney Abel is an author of psychological fiction and poetry. He was born and raised in Kingston upon Hull, England.  His novel 12:07 The Sleeping is based on personal experience of sleep paralysis and his forthcoming book The Soul Spook continues this theme. He has also written and illustrated several children’s books and a Y/A novel Timothy Other: The boy who climbed Marzipan Mountain, the first in a series of three.

Poetry is his personal escape in his book of emotive words Tongue is a Fire and the upcoming THE ASYLUM.

https://theslider58.wixsite.com/lsydneyabel

https://www.lsydneyabelbooks.com/

https://theslider58.wixsite.com/lsydneyabelpoet

 


No comments:

Post a Comment

Three Poems by Dr Arthur Broomfield

  After John Ashbery’s     Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror    .   The bloodless hand that held you   back from what you first thought   a p...