In a pub in Lerwick by Adam Parry

Eyes broken

long lips soft as a leer

fingers fall apart

as this old brain spins.

Breathe on me

as legs intertwine.

Those eyes finger guitar torn skin

lips fringe upon lips

old lips that remember.

Two poems by Adam Parry

The Silver Mirror

I think I did this yesterday

sitting waiting for the

light to fade away.

Yet maybe this is not what I did that last day

maybe I was made myriad in a silver mirror. Nakedness and skin sloughed off.

In the silver mirror beside me a thousand deeds of history books.

My actors’ mien

                            lost when the spotlight lets me pause

                            in spotlight darkness

                            invisible I slope off stage left

                            wrapped again in a fast change in the thespians uniform

                            all this I saw behind sunglasses, those things in a silver mirror

                           that might have been and probably was.

The actor slips a little back into time, when his makeup was a different hue,

but that was yesterday and he wipes lipstick off his rubber lips.

I think, maybe the last of the days dance light, a waft of evening chill through the TV window.

Yes, I’m sure, I waited here all day, learning a new part. Like yesterday. Like yesterday-

and then the sun ascends and lights the cornfield where young life plays.

The fickleness of the Seasons

The Summer aged leaves lie

upon the green, so soon as autumn’s greed piles at my door

Lost and orphaned the two trees beyond Winter’s freeze all left skeletal and

held there by an unhurried winter storm.

Too soon, so soon the trees greet the Spring and sleep in reckless

night filled day.

Gravity's Mirror

To be free of gravity

Flesh wing fleshed,

beaten by the sun:

evaporates each molecule.

Up in sun threaded sky

look down on earth

and weep not now

no answers  for us as we fly,

no answer from us up here

up here as we fly

Reflected by tumbling weaving sea.

Magic man by Adam Parry

I was a magic man

where my sights saw such such things

I was a magic man

when I caressed your soft soft flesh.

I was a magic man and a jester

I was a magic man and I had no home

I was the magic man, red rivers in my eyes

I was the magic man before you were born.

You are the magic child and let your dreams dream you.

The Prophecies of O by Adam Parry

In all these dreams
of forgetfulness
where pain is left
you remain.

Do not forget we are not alone
and a hand touches,
she heals, he heals
.
I am so forgetful
what is your name again?
Did you find the fame
you needed or did it vanish away?

O. You are not alone
and one day
you may come again.

Weeding by Adam Parry

Pulling out the weeds
this work, unpaid, unseen
in the garden of my mind.
I let the cherry blossoms bloom
by the tall grass growing to the
edge of the sea.
The painters in the rape fields
wave a silent greeting
as I weed until all perfection is regained.