Tag Archives: poem

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


“That Is A Pity”

Practically a life time together,
In some form or fashion—
That I feel love for you still
Yet can no longer stay, what can one say?

By A.E. Wallace


To Start Things Off, Bring in The Poet

Sent In By Robert Kirkwood

Sent In By Robert Kirkwood

The Sky Shared

between you and I,
pain, anger, fear and beer,
A dolly mix of
years.
Audacious banalities
confound our (now)
mature sensibilities.

We move from day to day
with each other, not with each other
and find it all too real…
so we sit and stare in silence
at a phone
that must ring,
that won’t.

We fill our days with responsibility
and dream the dreams of adolescent angst.
I muse on the summer night
through my bedroom window;
indigo rolling out beyond the conifers
where the little doves coo.

At that same moment,
you walk out in the cerulean air ,
over there,
to forget about me
again.

By A.E. Wallace for RTK


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