Five Poems by Mike Everley

 

Storage-Unit A57

 

The car is a wimberry

hanging low over tarmac

I scoop it into my mouth

it dissolves

into strawberry ice cream.

 

  Hitler is waiting in Munich.

 

The Pope rides a bicycle

it has a wobbly wheel

with spokes of Russian ice

surrounded by fire

that speaks of appeasement.

 

  I feel strangely sad.

 

The Suitcase

 

Disappointment, folded in creases,

lies within an open suitcase

waiting to be worn once more.

 

It is a suit of dark grey

absorbing all hues

draining them of colour

in an empty hotel room

within hearing of the sea.

 

The man stares empty eyed

into the steamed mirror

brown patched and silver peeled

hanging crookedly by the shower.

 

The universe turns slowly

on its star clustered pivot

unknowing, uncaring.... eternal.

 

Hope checked out early that day.

 

Between

 

Soft waves lapping on rock

as evening's last light

fades into night across the bay.

In that moment of insight,

short and transient,

between thought and memory

just time to collect myself

before the world intrudes again

and I can no longer stay.

Soft waves lap over rock

lulling the past to sleep.

Spent Match

 

Like love you were hot once

before you were blown out

with only a wisp of smoke

as the last vestige of desire.

Ginger Tea (Haiku)

 

A clump of ginger

    sitting in the small green pot

        it fills my senses.

 

Mike Everley has been a writer for over 50 years. He has had poetry published in the Anglo Welsh Review, New Welsh Review, Poetry Wales, Outposts, Undiscovered Poet, Entheoscope and 5-7-5 Haiku Online Journal etc. He was a member of both the National Union of Journalists and the Society of Authors before retirement.