Three short poems

Tonight

My dreams will reproach me
For running backwards
Into the stream of infinity

They will hang me
From a high tower
Then make me descend
Into a cellar of confinement

They will chase me
Up a dark steep hill
With a sharp hatchet
I’ll hide behind a wall of nightmare

They will show me
The secrets of my heart
Disguised as spiders
Then daylight will fall like a hole

The Missing Link

I’m the missing link
The monkey that can think
I had no mother, had no father
I had no food, had no drink

I’m the missing link
I’ve been dead for a long time
I’ve had no love, had no hate
..
I’m the missing link

I’m waiting to fill my place
I’m waiting to unite you
There’s a gap in the human race
Left by the blues

First Words

The place that language came from was lost;
That well at the beginning of the world, its water;
That wet the dry throat of man, with words
Newly formed like soft fruit on dusky trees.

That source of inspiration for words;
Words that were formed by thoughts;
Thoughts that produced words
And named the eye, the nose, the mouth.

Words that first described the heartbeat,
The red colour of the heart;
The passion, the tempest within
That rocked furiously until it beat.

The place where language first was heard;
The first echo of the first word;
That first warm word, its breath of air;
The breath now cold, and mingled where?

Millions more have breathed and prayed,
That air, that filled all lungs since then,
Now non can feel and no-one know
That place that language came from.