Tag Archives: poem

Just Before Dawn

I anticipate the sun;

His bright red face

burning through

the dark night of

the soul.

He’ll pucker up

then blow away

Clouds,

then plant

a warm

Yellow kiss

on my belly.

Soon,

I’ll return home.

A.E.W.

[Photo courtesy Chris Frosin]

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The Lightness of Being Me

Oh I was binary,

In orbit,

Slave to a celestial joy

caught up in once-upon-time,

Text lies, pizza boxes & corsets.

Knocked out by a quasar,

Sobering sense at cocktail hour,

I heard the Word that made me whole;

The Big Bang of truth in a forgotten date.

Set me free.

A.E. Wallace


A November Poem on the Ubiquitous Quiet & Death of Love

Chance of Clouds

There is a sun out there, I know.

Potentially it can be warm, I know.

But the clouds are too heavy,

The clouds are too grey,

The clouds just keep being

in the way.

There is a smile there, I know.

Potentially there can be laughter.

But the clouds are too heavy,

The clouds are too grey,

The clouds just keep getting

in the way.

There is love there, I know.

Potentially times can be better.

But the clouds are too heavy,

The clouds are too grey,

The clouds just make me

want to stay away.


By AEW


Haiku: Yellow

Strong & courageous, 

My Sun shines from my belly.

I accept myself.

— A.E.W.


The Daze of Days Boxed Up

Do not fit me in your box;

That box of how life is supposed to be —

That box is not for me.
Many a box up in the loft–

Dusty pages, faded photos, old coats,

Boxes filled with forgotten notes.
Your space is full of box.

A box fortress life.

Yet your head is full of strife.
Only this box full of my things,

One I brought over the sea

I will carry out and be free.

–by A. E. Wallace 


Haiku Number 9

Transendental sighs,

Light years separate our hearts.

Tomorrow is now. 

–AEW


Poem 20.10.16

Keep submitting no matter what…

“I keep believing 

Rejection is not death.”


On The Brink– Poem

 Under Pressure

Under Pressure

Two stars

in binary dance

competing for centre–

cancelling life around us–

isolating

ourselves

to our own

fiery company,

A.E.W


Untitled Poem #7

Sunday sunshine breaches dark cloud,
streams through bedroom window,
warming my face–
Alone now,
I stretch over white duvet.
On bedside table, black coffee waits
going cold as
I ruminate start of this day;
“Come what may.”

His scent on me–
faint now;
Lost within a dream–
or blown away on the wind,
like summer blue sky
in late August–
or Italian lavender.

His face–
so sweet with that
aquamarine gaze
and the promise whispered;
“Always…”

I cannot auspicate future need,
or if planets will align.
Revelations are, indeed, for another time.
At most, these memories upon which I feed–
wait as I continue to ruminate–
and hope they do not grow cold.

By A.E. Wallace

My Secret Garden

My Secret Garden


A Poem– Carnivorous Lily

Carnivorous Lilyby A.E. Wallace

Not sure how we came to the notion,
taking that potion at the end of the day—which lead to the smoking—
Seer’s Sage;
This is where it all went a different way.

Leaving my watcher,
I went for a wander
down a meandering path.
Pulled down dark chasm—floating, falling, flying —
Into a message
that shot through the dark—
from a distance—
in some uncertain tongue:

All that is, isn’t.

Chaos conversion—Tranquility.
One-time daydream demanding development–
Eaten alive in some floral reality,
the need for my Freedom became the key–
The inviolability of my heart had been much abused.
No longer loved—but bound by a vow–
The elegant simplicity;

He is not the one.
lily


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