Below Belief » Poetry

the girl on the train

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:59:07 +0000

Two strangers. Two faces.
Two minds. Two races.
Two glances. Two gazes.
Two mental embraces.
Over easy. No ties.
Just friendly. No lies.
Eyes prancing. Eyes chasing.
Uncertain. Heart racing.
Recognition. Eyes meeting.
Returning the smile.
There is nothing to link them,
yet nothing to bar them.
Friendship is free for the taking
An immediate attraction.
A wry smile of amusement.
Averting the gaze and returning the smile.

summer dreams

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:58:30 +0000

I’ll describe for a moment the summer
The sun and its unblinking eye
Of dappled shade and lazy days
under the deep blue sky
Children run playful in groups on the grass
Lovers relax in the breeze
The air is filled with the echoes of laughter
and the soft wind in the willow trees
At the heart of this calming, cheery scene
The rowing eights ease by
Cheering spectators line the banks
and college pride runs high
A symbol of youthful ambition
Of dreams that are made to come true
To row on the river, is to fly with the birds
To succeed in whatever you do
In the wake of the boats, only peace and quiet
Ducks bobbing merrily away
The ripples disperse and the surface grows calm
For the rowers, tomorrow‘s a new day
The summer, unlike the winter before it
is the time to be running free
And if I were to choose my time of life?
The warm summer is where I‘d be.

the southern cross

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:58:09 +0000

As the burning heat of day gives way
to the burning heat of night
I gaze up into a sky filled with
twinkling southern lights
And at the centre of the cross I see you
outlined against the sky
Each single pretty feature portrayed
perfectly in my mind‘s eye
For a moment, we can touch,
Feel our souls aligned
I can glimpse your smile and hear you laugh
Then we are gone, no stars to find
Sleep has come – my mind at rest
Now I drift and dream of when
Tomorrow comes and we can,
by night, glimpse ourselves again.

tears

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:57:45 +0000

You said we could be friends
I stared at the wall
Who knows where love ends.
I feel nothing at all.

confusion

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:57:24 +0000

I see you across a smoke-filled room
The music‘s too loud for me to talk
to you, even if you would talk to me.
Always surrounded by so-called friends
Telling you lies that never end
And I, I never seem to stand a chance.
I catch your eye, across the crowd
I want to shout your name out loud
But you, you never seem to want to hear
What can I do just to be with you
and make me feel this pain is all worthwhile?
I try so hard, to look my best
After all, I‘ve got you to impress
But you, you never even notice me
And in my dreams, I see paradise
You and me, just sweetness and light
But you, you shatter all my hopes
What can I do just to be with you
and make me feel this pain is all worthwhile?
Where is the line, between love and hate?
Only confusion drives the hand of fate
Just how, how can I make you feel my pain?
How can I make you feel my pain?

black and white

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:57:01 +0000

Drawn in close, this murky vale
The clouds are rolling in
The snow is getting heavy now
And the cold is back again
Through eyes of stony brilliance
Watching life stood still
An age inside, beyond the years
Naive and yet strong willed
And still you stand, arms outstretched
to face the driving rain
no one there to turn your back
or shield you from the pain
And as the camera pans wildly
across this windswept hill
the heather is just a colourless backdrop
while nature takes her kill
Images for all time recorded
in grainy black and white
This brief, tormented instant
Flashing lightning in the night
From your weakness you draw your strength
Through your tears, your fears, you find the light
Nature leads her tragic course
but your dreams never fade from sight.

winter love

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:56:38 +0000

Crisp and clear the morning. A freezing winter’s day
Trees looming darkly, all the dreams have gone away
The hills are sitting silent, the sky is starkly white
Snow is falling gently, all the paths are out of sight
Against this weary backdrop, two lovers arm in arm appear
Drifting along the snowy lane, without a care or fear
They take nothing but memories, from this hostile place
And leave only footprints, a track that leaves no trace
Where they walk the snow is soft, a wonder to behold
Love lights up the shadows. A fire to warm the cold
A beacon in the darkness. In your dreams a friendly hand
Together they turn this icy world in to their wonderland

the wry smile

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:56:14 +0000

So close. So far away.
So tempting, I say.
For one stormy second.
Two lives, intertwined.
But then doubts, cautious thoughts.
The moral battles, we fought.
And now forget. But still remember.
The fun we had in December!

magdalen college chapel

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:55:39 +0000

a poem written in 1927 by a family friend, Helen Lamb

If there were Gods to worship I might think
that here was one of their last sanctuaries.
What spirits from the long-forgotten years
crowd, in the shadows far above our heads,
watching our faces in the candle light?
What do you see, oh you who once were men?
The unchang‘d suffering of the human heart,
The coy display of woman‘s vanity,
The hurried fervour of faint piety,
And sometimes in an isolated face
the calm transfiguration of a soul,
lifted above all trivialities
to rest a moment in eternity?
Softly the voices mount to the dim roof
like bird-notes when the breathless forest waits
for the soft-footed coming of the dusk.
And, spirits, do you feel again the spell
of centuries of music echoing here?
Then might I say you worshipped -
For were there Gods to worship I must think
They would be here.

this place

tim — Fri, 31 Dec 2004 10:55:17 +0000

In this place, of heart-pounding frenzy
where love is lost and found so easy
Friends are won and battles fought
with opposed ideas and obsessive talk
Where words, sometimes sharp and painful
mean so much, and yet so little
But come all at once and at the wrong time
Splinters of truth in wise-crack lines
Of false pretences and cracking facades
Keeping up appearances and spinning yarns
Polite conversation and wishful thinking
Quick rejections and broken hearts sinking
Here we are and here we‘ll stay
Love it, hate it, both at once
And yet the sunrise, clear and bright
Makes it all seem to me, in irony, worthwhile.