Home of the Poetry Showcase Everypoet.com home

Poems by Gwarwyn


Down in the beginning of the
fish pond, lilies float across
a green mind, fertile to thought
of the ether, breathe in, fall
under, air bubbles, pop
your head into air of
yesteryear, down the garden
path, bumble your way into
a door, look in, look out,
feel the sun on new skin,
a smile with closed eyes,
open to the blue above,
dare to fly away.


Polished tiles reflecting
nothing, but misty mirrors in
Windy weather, blowing
Feelings flapping in the
breeze, tossing heads, rolling
eyes, flapping lips, scattering
eddies of broken words, snatched
from wet tongues, felt meaningful,
falling onto unremembered slates,
Slipping, sliding off slimy
Hands that only wanted to
give, but are throwing away, to
the threads in the wind,
Tattered, screaming, running
wild, with wild noises, create
a horrific image in silver mirrors,
Distorting it's watery surface,
Rippling in a storm's fury, disturbed,
Wayward, bright sun flashing on
Silver screens, through fingers,
Through eyes, spectrum of light
in all colours, absorbed by the
mirror in the eyes, a smile
Made of light, till eyes shut
on the images travelling message
Then open again, captured forever
in the beholder's eyes.


Struggling desperation, shrieking hysteria
writhing madly under icy glare, chill tortured spirits
dashed to grazed quartz shattered ground, twinkling in icy
eyes, spread eagle in flight, mad in fury, head tossing,
rolling eyes, chill stares on, distantly laughing at
squirming limbs, white on black, a splash of colour, coldly
waiting for red rivers to break the dam, panting breathlessly, thrashing
quickens, silent ice, deaf to painful pleas, with a wince blood flows
cool curves touch frosted lips, icicles unfurl, cold thrust
takes surprise, shrilled screams escape blood heart, spiked
ice silence retreats, smiling at red, dripping off spiky ends,
blood melts, icy hand, hissing, icy eyes watch in frozen silence,
playful lips dripping, silently, slowly, smoothly, soothing ice to
the ground

Good Night

Now I can feel it tingle on
my skin and go deeper than
before, good or not, I feel I
can breathe, and the air move
over and around my skin, sighing
is now satisfying, I can feel
myself within my limbs, happiness
in my throat like golden sunshine,
tainted by the passing of time, I
feel myself in my smile, even in
my weariness, I am content, this
place is a refuge not a cell, I
write with eagerness once more,
dark shadows are falling to
the floor, where they belong, my
spirit soars, free at least for a
while, a look to the merry blue
sky for inspiration once again.

Time To Go

Come, walk in the forest with
me, let's see what we can make
bleed, find the path in the palm
of my mind, be small, I'll miss
you and then forget you, it's time
to fly, but I can't see you anymore,
no matter how willing the flesh
or heart is, this mind must be
free, to make my world of imagination
be real, my will, will not allow
you to hinder me, so grow some wings
boys, find the courage to take a
leap off the cliff, find the balls
to surf my blazing trail, to the
heart of our truth, make it strong,
make it sure, but make it now or
else it's time to break, let's test
the metal, just to see if it squeals,
I'm made of sterner stuff than a
snake's skin, tell me, if you try
to move with me, will you fall apart,
what are you, what is your heart
made of, let's cut it all up and
see if you shine as bright as
me or die,

Send feedback

Biographical sketch: My mother is Canadian, my father is Scottish, I'm English, lived in Ireland for
8yrs and now in Australia.

Gwarwyn recommends:

Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling
Reason: It's silly, non-sensical, but it all makes sense

Recommendations for writers:

Just let the words flow, try not think about it too much or question it, let the poem happen and edit later


Everything about: