Stories
The Brass Bed and other Stories by alan gregor.
http://www.lulu.com/shop/alan-gregor/the-brass-bed-and-other-stories/ebook/product-20454926.html
Jottify is an online community which allows people to share, discuss and sell anything they have written.
The website comprises innovative tools for creating, organising and sharing literary works with the web-using world. It allows writers to categorise their works into chapters/scenes/sections and, incorporating some of the Internet’s finest open-source projects, it is a word processor tailored for writers, accessible from anywhere in the world.
September.
Across the way beneath the writing on the wall
two lovers sit, having a cigarette in the waning sun.
Their fondness looks relaxed, though they talk
with lively gestures involving arm movements,
bodies turned urgently towards each other
then towards the western sky; hands flutter
the sunlight touches each silent word
touches lip’s impressions kiss the air.
Those lovers, came there, to leave moments
of vivacity, outlined in fragile script against
the night coming down. Those lovers
were there to take the edge off the omens,
to make the dreams of lovers and poets
seem real, though they never would, but,
though they never may be real
illusions are the stuff of irregular torment’s
erosive stripping of the heart and agony
hammering an anvil in the soul. So take away
the words and let me have the lovers in the sun
as a movie without sound, a mime, a painting,
a silhouette: fugitives from life, ‘star- crossed.’
a fashion shoe covered in city grime
lies lost on a bus shelter
next to the kebab shop
i see it’s desolate
colours dissolve under the oily
stains of sludge that are thrust
from the cut-price cars shrugging
their course homeward:
celebrant’s once stylish relic heaved
by barworker on epic drunken sabbatical
inaugural reliquary
for imminent pilgrims
Copper Trees.
Beneath the Copper trees
the black crows cawed
and hopped and skipped
and in Crow thought, they thought
of the dark, dead eyes of Ted –
whose poems I never really read
though urged by you who now have
your own dark, dead eyes,
so you and Ted can look at one
another and think of crows
skipping, hopping, cawing
and Iron men as well.
And in the park with the dancing crows
under the Copper trees,
schoolgirls moved through the grass
dew drop beads with early sun
mirrored on the water curves
clinging to their schoolgirl shoes;
i-pods stuffed inside their cares
and rapper songs stifling ears
life is a walk in the park
a dream in the dark
walk in the park
dream in the dark:
flat black crow
not part of the crew
sailed across the blue heaven
and I wished your eyes were bright with life
so you could tell me all about Ted’s crows,
his Iron men, and as old men we could
remember when our eyes were filled
with teenage schoolgirls rocking, twisting,
moving, dreaming, and crows were just big ugly black birds.
* * *
September, the land flooded with sweet light
and the mellowness of Autumn.
The fields a choir of dark green
with harvest, pale yellow
shapes and the hills curtained
in mist.
