Painting by numbers,
a perfunctory living
and passion stifled.
by Scooj
Painting by numbers,
a perfunctory living
and passion stifled.
by Scooj
Sleep overwhelms and
in parallel burdens me;
jobs I have not done.
by Scooj
Raining in Bemmie
and the crowds may diminish
but not the spirit.
by Scooj
Street artists converge
on Bristol for a few days,
painting the town red.
by Scooj
In the cool thin air
apple moons laid out to dry;
Autumn provisions
by Scooj
Rotting food street smells
my walk to work polluted;
reality check.
by Scooj
Crossing the divide
where glacial meltwater
cuts ever seawards.
by Scooj
Difficult to build,
to maintain requires effort,
so easy to lose.
by Scooj
Still for a moment,
frenetic journey frozen;
an angel in blue.
by Scooj
Through the mist of time
thoughts of you evaporate
into the ether.
by Scooj