Category Archives: Poetry

secrets & regrets

no matter how careful you are, your secrets will come to light

~

Secrets

Past Desires

Past Kisses

Past Sins

Past Lovers

Past Lusts

Past Lies

Past Lives

Deep Regrets

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

he smiled at you

like he knew all your secrets

she’s calling on the telephone

how does she always know just when to call?

~

she only calls when she’s lonely

she only calls when she needs me

and every time she calls she cries

she tells me her little love stories

then she tells me her bigger lies

she tells me how fine it could be

she just can’t look into my eyes

so, it’s time I said goodbye

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

 

she’s lonely again

it’s just her choice of men

she loved me for a day

the flowering of love never dies it’s time just passes

~

twilight’s last whisper

dreaming of memories

loves lost times past

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

loves sweet sorrow lingers

as the night gathers

 

Random Jottings ~ Vampires

vampires do not drive sensible cars

~

never offer a vampire a drink

~

he tasted the blood in the water

well, she was that kind of vampire

~

she was bad, she was mean, she was dangerous

but she did drive a vintage red Corvette

~

most vampire’s theme song isn’t the toccata and fugue

it’s bat out of hell

I once loved a vampire, but she was a few hundred years older than me

~

jack collier
jackcollier7@talktalk.net

she had wise eyes

a face of angelic innocence

damn shame she was a vampyre

Writing

English, the finest and truest language ever known to mankind

Nobody can write a scene like Shakespeare, even though he couldn’t even spell his own name.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers

For he today that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother

I cannot write prose like Mark Twain, even though he was naught but a steam boat pilot.

Never allow someone else to be your priority

while allowing yourself to be their option

Few can stir the blood like a Tennyson or Coleridge.

Half a league, half a league, half a league onward

into the valley of death rode the six hundred

Or evoke love and passion in the way of a Keats or Shelly.

A thing of beauty is a joy forever

its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness

But I can write like me ~ direct, pithy, sanguine, and terse.

Haunting music of the wind, wave counterpointed, pink sky echoed

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

perhaps not the greatest writer

Fleming created an iconic character

tired and bored with myself

make a new start, get up and get out there, there is naught to fear

I don’t feel pleasure

there is no real pain

waking up is pointless

too much useless leisure

far too much cold rain

the days are countless

thoughts are mindless

nothing to lose nor gain

just isolated loneliness

it’s time to begin again

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

 

it’s time to laugh again

 

ruined world

now is the long dark midnight of your soul’s despair

~

and after lockdown

~

it was so quiet in the ruins

~

walking through this old town

~

the dogs bark but no children play

~

every child is kept safely locked away

~

no bright shining voices to be heard today

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

and the freedom to walk

has been taken away

 

my heart writes

I’ve been listening, listening to the soft silences

~

my heart writes while my brain watches in awe

I could be dreaming, hopelessly stranded in love

your love surrounds me with thoughts of the ocean

soft sand, the deserted beach, waves breathing gently

sunshine, the passage of time, tides, the moon and stars

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

Life may bring a lot of things

just remember that you’re not alone

moonlight lust

the moon watched over all her lustful infidelities

~

alone

it was over

lonely midnight

moon shining silver

and she was going home

trying to smile, nothing there

she was beautiful, a mature slut

she would regret her lascivious lust

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

 

just a thong, under a see thru dress

and what’s wrong with that?

 

 

white water

for true love knows no seasons, no endings nor beginnings

~

black beach roiling

the lonely figure walking

March gales came in slashing

white water boiling and crashing

and yet he is far away day-dreaming

of love, the moon and stars, finer things

hearing her voice seeing her face in his mind

knowing, deep in his heart, this is the beginning

~

jack collier

jackcollier7@talktalk.net

so in love with her

nothing else matters

 

%d bloggers like this: