Time Suck 1

Hours sucked away 

searching

Files lost

Frustration so high I could cry.

Morning After

Things that pass for early morning thoughts

float fluffy and muddled.

Early morning talking 

slicing the silence 

wounding words 

that don’t need to be said

Jam

Jam

Winds Whistling

Whispering freedom

Sweat sticking

And I feel

The steering wheels slick grip under my finger tips

The bird on my dashboard

wants to bob out to the hills

while I melt further through the cracks

Showing off my poetry

I cal myself a poet. I call myself a social commentator. I consider myself a free thinker.. and all this time I have had this blog, I've been too scared to share my poetry.

So - in true style - my new years resolutions - 10 months late.. is that I will publish a poem of some sort every fortnight.. well .. I'll try...