Poetry

The Game

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

i don’t like fighting with angels

i wish they would get on my side

or if they are, as they sometimes seem

i wish they’d explain

the rules of this game

it’s far too complex for me.

 

i heard all the rules

plainly spelled out

but it’s never as simple as that

even good acts have consequences

you didn’t foresee or expect

and each time i learn the next step

they spin the tables around

what was right last time

is suddenly wrong

and what was wrong

is shown to be better

it’s never the same story twice

 

maybe they just want clowns

it must get boring up there

and who am i

in there great holy schemes?

good for a laugh perhaps

 

 

 

 

 

An Angel in New Jersey

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

I flew the far Atlantic
to a place unknown
I flew to see a stranger,
a mystery. to me.
The streets were full of cars,
humming as they passed.

I climbed an empty stair.
The steps were cold and bare.
The door was open wide,
I entered there

A crumpled body,
in the corner of a room.
I knew that he would die
If I had not been there.
I spoke to him
he did not reply.

I cradled him
I shook him
dialled 911
the paramedics didnt come
i left the building at a run

i became so lost out there
the city was so huge
i was in despair

in a square
above the town
an angel came to me
and took me to the river
i saw a spanning bridge
the angel told me wait
don’t cross, the time’s not now

i waited in a rocking boat
by the river shore
and there the man came to me
a woman by his side
i knew she was his bride
dead long years before
he spoke to me
he shook my hand

‘we are going now” he said
i knew that he was dead
they danced off down the street
their happiness complete

i asked the angel ”can i dance?”
”when the time is right” she said
”that dance is for the dead”

With Passion

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

frustration fills the air
our breath beats out our pace
no embrace is tight enough
to seal the bonds of love
glancing at your face
through tangled hair,
damp with sweat, urgent,
i look into your eyes
i hold you to my chest
i hear your moans express
a need for ever more
a need to leave this place
to fly
the planet is too small
the earth not great enough
to hold this burning love
the fervour is too strong
i hear the cosmos sigh
towards the urge of life
and children to be born
my heart is full of stars
i shower you with them all
my soul begins to fall
we call our angels in
to circle us above
suspended from their wings

Lone Wolves

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

when a wolf howls it’s answered

answered by many wolves

the voices of many wolves

repeating back from the hills

but you,

poor fool,

poor human

you can howl

and howl

no answer

echoing back to you

it’s you

and the empty hills

you and the moon

that’s all

Meeting My Inner Child

/ A. Gouedard / 1 Comment

in the midst of a storm of thunder

when hail stones fell from dark skies

a child came crawling to me

he came to me from his mother

sent into my protection

he was little more than a babe

 

i stopped and stooped to lift him

i looked into his soft little face

i saw bright eyes full of wonder

he seemed made of wonder and grace

i placed him onto my back

 

i told him to cling very tight

but he flung himself backward to earth

beyond where my hands could reach

i turned and raised him again

held him in tender embrace

 

i explained he had to be strong

for a journey

arduous

long

but we’d be safe

in the end

 

he smiled at me

like a friend

 

 

 

Loneliness

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

when i sit by the fire in the evening
my memory flickers with flames
so many images flare up again
warm hearts, other places, old names

we sat by the hearth together
so many years ago
in days of love and friendship
now it isn’t so

i live alone in a quiet room
old pictures, old treasures, past days
my thoughts are drifting slowly by
there are things I will not say

emptiness is hard to describe
and words have too much power
there are things I don’t confess to myself
in the fire-lit, shadowed hour

Boost My Immune System Baby

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

Boost my immune system baby.
I have a fever, right to the bone.

My condition is getting worse.
I can’t do this alone,
it just wont work the same.
The solution is quite plain.

Give me that tender touch,
the one that does so much.
The doctor says its wise.
No pill can take your place.

Boost my immune system baby,
make my molecules sing.
That’s the only thing
that guarantees good health.

The Wisdom of Bees

/ A. Gouedard / 1 Comment

her heart is so tender
a delicate pink
with a deeper rose tinge
where the petals unfold
there is fire in the centre
but the bud on the outside is white
she has her thorns too
I am glad of that
she wont be harmed

how can i not love
a heart that’s like that?
it’s a flower
it’s a rose
the rose that entwines
winding its way over my walls

flowers grow far better unpicked
and the wisdom of bees
is that they know the value of honey
while they thirst for the nectar within

Buttercups

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There is a beautiful meadow of buttercups.
They catch the light of the sun.
I want to lay down amongst them
and strip right down to the skin
to feel the breeze and the air
and feel a full flood of life.
There is no-one around to care.
But when i draw closer to them
I see the electric fence.
The buttercups need defence
from a barbarian soul like mine.

Skin

/ A. Gouedard / Leave a comment

passion is passing, affection is pure
love doesn’t have to be physical
i will quell this desire

but my skin is on fire
it burns to be touched

if I didn’t love you this feeling would never exist
there is no satisfaction anywhere else
there is no temptation I can’t resist

but my skin is on fire
it yearns to be touched

there are so many other things we can do
i don’t understand why i want this so much
it’s not the most important aspect of you

but my skin is on fire
it burns to be touched

turning my mind away as far as I can
filling my head with other thoughts
thoughts that cool, hoping for peace

but my skin is on fire
it longs to be touched