Bleaney Poems

Obsequious, and gorged on words, he straightens faded dust jackets: Barthes, de Beauvoir, Brautigan. Thin skeins of nicotine dissipate over ancient oak, whispers echo amongst carved shelves. Thoughts weave their tangled web through the melancholic mess of his marching mind.

To waste hours eliminates days smell those flowers hold that gaze to bite your tongue, sometimes is best forgive the young as they learn the rest To blindly go ignoring choice with volume low that inner voice To needlessly worry

Have you had that feeling when you wish you were gone, far away on the fluffy cloud? Have you had the want, to meet acceptance draped in undress? Have you had the need to make love with destiny, on the

The sands of time, so apt! Grain by grain, Unendingly, our lives ebb away. Like a candle lit at birth, Burning bright- Till the end, Our lives too- Sometimes in a fright! Seasons come, seasons go- Sunrise after sunset, a

I love you. Words whispered into my ears and screamed in passion, I love you! You lied. And I guess I did too. Because like all tragic love stories, we were young and we were dumb and neither one of

Skies of bright blue Seas of Emerald Green All the colours of the rainbow in between Blue and White upon their flag Bright purple flowers on sandstone coloured walls The sands are white and dark in places The fields are

Everyone is here to prepare to live in heaven, suffering is what we have to withstand, suffering is the practice , we have to prepare ourselves, if we will avoid it ,we surely can avoid it, but unfortunately, we may

and I can almost sense that something bad is going to happen soon everything for some people just seem to be falling apart people well one person in particular he is such an amazing person and he seems to be

(1). At that morning, I wrote on the blackboard with white chalk: when negative collides with positive, it becomes cloudy; When two negatives meet, it clears up; When two positives meet, it lightens until they fight on top of a

It was no longer miles that kept us apart, but lifetimes. It was then that I understood the void I felt when you left due to days of work Would no longer be relieved with your return and only leave

She smiles in your face so pretty,   But her intentions are dirty,   Because behind your back it’s another story,   And she talks out your business like it was history,   So stop telling her things about you

born in chains I could not see, heart was pure and mind still free, but as the time had passed me by, I noticed love and peace say bye… I read; without a shadow of a doubt, I wrote; beyond

(1) A golden braid is not a braid. It is, at times, a shower of delights dropping from a golden star. At times, it is a front stage at whose background I can recollect the neighing of white horses. At

It’s hard to watch a man sing. Soon it becomes awkward. Watching him stand there Beginning to sway. Without a single use for his hands they are just there. Forced to make eye contact  Not knowing which way to go

Tonight sleep was not coming to me. Tears had washed the splinters out of the bruised eyes. It was becoming extremely hard to pulversize the legacy, the tendrils of violence. Wrapped in white shrouds the bodies were laid out on

Vivid red barn juxtaposed against a green pumpkin field. Cloudless sky with bright sun hurt my eyes. Starkness of the scene burnt into my mind. Beautiful! Time passes. Sun lowers in the sky with fat orange orbs all around. Bright

Revive thee the sun of home, REVIVE THEE the son of Tome.. where casteth thee thy piping rays where goest thee thy solid shadows mama’s only son and pride of Tom” that one strong , once bold ,young man adored

How dark and deep The wrinkles on your visage? O,Stranger? and how fresh? Gentle the strokes of Master Painter! Come ,under those very shades Let us chat in friendly togetherness. Every Memory is a fragrance, Fills voids,Stirs emotions and Swings

An attack with hatred and ferocity killed many people, how disdainful blind eyes with no sign of fraternity killed outright teenagers, how painful Parents who lost their children shed tears of blood in mournful an act against the faith of

Dare I ask for peace in this turbulent world of silent wars The colour of war is dark and dissolute Corrupt, abounded with fear Yet still I hope for a glint of light Peace what is its colour In this

Walked into the sun, He. With weak flesh. A storm was raging on burning sands. In hollow of his knees gravel was hitting hard. He moved inwards in trance Visionary, homeless, life in open was blessing. A huge crowd followed

I look at my body and still can’t believe, How did I manage to do this to me, How could I ever stand such pain, When I harmed myself time and again. I wanted to scream and I wanted to

out of the depths of the earth there lies a swell of a great story I’d like to tell to delve into the midnight madness of the bowels of Hell your body lies frozen in time Sublime the casket is

When the times are tough And the road is rough And you can’t believe in yourself When the blames are more And the praise is less And you are perplexed and unsure When your confidence starts drowning in the sea

For years she has waited for this day you didn’t have much to say but I guess it’s better that way anyways she says she would write but they knew she was glad to be getting out of here and

(1) My grandmother, may God have his mercy on her, still keeps the role of the hero; her face wrinkles are a leather book open to all interpretations; the falling of her teeth are the lost evidence on present time;

Wish I could edit life’s errors. Retrace my steps, reclaim All I lost, gave up on. I’d give my present knowledge To my younger self. Carry my youthful vigor for life, hold unto my experiences. My second thoughts I’d make

An act of wilfulness, and deliberate sustenance, towards the immaculate. Searching for the known the one that’s ‘unknown’ to the senses – too naive. Pushing towards that unsubstantial substance, does it truly exist? Focused solely on the gain, not minding

The screams became louder, and he grew darker. Money which we call a sign of progress took its way through under table, The day rape victim was ashamed of herself, humanity went unstable. But let’s not focus about us because

I’m a twisted echo In a suicidal prayer, Toxic, dark, and damp Empty thoughts, a musical despair. Demon’s start to whisper softly In an eerie yet, enchanted lullaby, A need to numb the pain within me I dance with the

Since ages I’ve waited, that you’ll take my name; hoping without hope, you felt the same. Signs I gave, but you did not see; your heart hurt because of me, that cannot be. To love is to be alive, to

No better no worse not a sage nor a devil not a lesser man nor a man enough not a loser nor a success not a prodigy nor senile a bit depressed a bit unwell a bit dreamy a bit

The olde wooden rocker was rustic and worn; no one could remember the year it was born. It rocked with one partner for decades of years but now it was silenced and all were in tears. The faithful old rider

I started on a journey Irrespective of my fear I aimed for the pinnacle On my passion I would swear I refused to relent Thought my path was clear I was blissful, full of inspiration Ignorant in my approach Seemed

My second chance is bristling in a fire but you were here you could have changed the conversation, you could have given me your touch, but it dissolved into yesterday, and a furnace I’m a dead man, heart locked away

The hunter is lost in a wild forest, It’s a moonless night, Trees are dense; He can’t see the stars, Beats of his heart race by second to second, Shooting up, high and high on like frightening roars, Clouds came

Sometimes, I look for a door in the floor of my bedroom— even though there’s no such door—just because it’ll be such an awesome thing to have. Wouldn’t you want one? I’ll become the envy of all my (imaginary) friends.

NOW Cupid, once, he made a fool of me, He struck me with his wayward, golden dart; And all at once I felt sweet agony, Just like a glowing ember in my heart. I heard a voice; then something caught

I keep my eyes searching for the light under the shade. Hear that? It bellows like the clock. “Come to me,” “It is time.” Please understand that I can’t enter this grotto alone. My experiences seem so few. You can’t

The pain in my brain and eyes, Is nothing compared to the torture of hearing your incessant cries. Nor me having to invent lies to hear your swooning sighs. How depraved I must be to repent this on a keyboard Rather than your holy