this morning I sharpened my pencil
in expectation of words
little boats came instead
while antelope gathered
upon a white hill
to stare – cave drawings
from I don’t know where
I would rather have had words
[first posted 31 May 2015]
Author: Edwin Best
Author of the poetry blog 'Another Way of Saying.'
I tend to write short lyric pieces, although I do also write longer sequence poems.
I cannot stay serious for long however before the absurd, the darkly comic and the fantastic come into play.
My first collection 'Another Way of Saying' is available in paperback from Amazon, published by FeedARead, 2014.
say a little prayer
perhaps I should genuflect
light a candle
mumble something holy
but when the night terrors come
to this private vault
we call consciousness
only my dog can hear me
be near me
comfort this old skin
so I say a little prayer for him
and whisper I’m ok
[first posted Jan 8, 2016]
lighter
the old man had lost something
of inestimable worth
more precious than he could ever say
now his burden felt a little lighter
a little lighter
as he went upon his way
[first posted 3 Feb. 2016]
a clear sky
you taught me a lot
and lit a fire in the snow
under the dovecote
a rook comes and goes
from a clear sky
and you sent me a photo
of a white candlestick
I keep on my wall
it reminds me often
of home
howl
dog on the bed
like a polar landmass in the spring
I would give anything
to be like you
yours is an empire of the skin
mine the meandering way within
an island off the compass of the world
go howl your howl
let it be heard
[first posted 1 Jan 2017]
the valley
sitting on the bed
notebook raised to the rough angle
of the ridge opposite
where the orange cubes of a new estate
have sprung up against the skyline
I recall another time
I sketched houses in distraction
as one parent raged against the other
in the summer vacation
before they parted
I shouldn’t have started
the light diminishes – evening comes early
evening comes early to all of us
who dwell in the valley
[first posted 26 March 2015]
default lines
the day defaults
upon the dark trudge home
I turn my collar to the night
find no message on my phone
think of Robert Frost
as the last street light is passed
weigh good against indifferent
and find the case is lost
the day defaults
to nothing very clear
beyond a bowl of peanuts
and a glass or two of beer
but when I think back
put some distance to my sight
I find that in the darkness
came a different kind of light
[first posted 26 March 2015]
