Tag Archives: poetry

When the Holiday is Over

Posted on by Steve Higgins

Forget the blue skies and the swimming pool
Your desk is all ready so don’t act like a fool.

Forget the pavement cafes and Mademoiselles
As your computer fires up with a thousand e-mails
Enough to numb the pain
And the nagging desire for a glass of red wine;
Act cool.

Briefings, meetings and folders to review
Memoranda and consultations to plough through

Forget the camembert and French bread
Close the door on the plat du jour
Its not even lunch and I can’t resist
The thought of a cool aperitif;
As if . .

Revised protocols need to be sorted
And I see the new software is unsupported

I’ll enjoy my lunch in the works canteen
A ham sandwich and a cup of tea
And the memory of a French bistro won’t even arise
All bustle and chatter and joie de vivre
No, not for me . .

On the bridge

Posted on by Steve Higgins

It was me that found you on that lonely road that night

I spied you on the cameras around midnight

You looked cold on top of that bridge,

I suppose you thought you’d see things in a different kind of light,

Way up on the bridge

In the middle of the night.

The ambulance was on stand by anyway

And I know you had your problems

If only you could have let on, hinted to someone

Maybe you wouldn’t have given us such a fright

But I prefer to believe you were coming down

And that you tripped or were nudged by the wind

It’s a sad place to die in the middle of a road

No one heard you call or shout

And darkness came when the lights went out.

 

 Image

Its a really tragic thing when death occurs on the motorway. Even though the individual will not be known to us the sadness is still there, knowing that we were unable to prevent this tragedy.

My freedom of information request to the UK highways agency revealed that there were 652 suicide attempts on the motorway in 2013;

https://www.whatdotheyknow.com/request/motorway_suicides#incoming-523298

652! That’s a heck of a lot of distraught, sad people.

The Secret of Happiness

Posted on by Steve Higgins

I was happy and never knew it,

Sad and knew it so well.

Love slipped by though I hardly noticed,

yet love has marked me well.

 

Winter passed and summer came

yet I was living in the cold.

My love has turned and passed me by

and outside the world grows old.

 

Happiness is trapped for me

In a former time, where once I used to dwell.

I was happy and never knew it

Sad and knew it so well

 

 

A Girl Called Pamela Taylor

Posted on by Steve Higgins

I wrote this many years ago and it was called ‘A girl called Paper Tangle.’ It was one of those inspirational poems where you suddenly get an idea and just go with it. It has a nice rhythm and trips along well but I was never happy with the ‘paper tangle’ thing. Anyway, not long ago I changed it to Pamela Taylor and the poem feels so much better. Apologies to any girl called Pamela Taylor!

A Girl Called Pamela Taylor

 

Pamela Taylor wears chic clothes

Designer labels, anything goes.

Her coat has buttons made of gold

She likes to be noticed, she’s bold.

 

Pamela Taylor wears black boots,

Her body is a gun that shoots.

She’s incredibly sexy and overtly erotic

and her taste is impossibly exotic

 

Pamela Taylor has blue-eyed eyes

and discreetly she enters other people’s lives.

She’ll trap you with magnetic sighs

and it’s yourself you’ll probably despise

 

Pamela Taylor knows all the best wine

and any man she wins in time.

She’s every scene-stealer and wheeler-dealer,

And to the social lepers she’s a saintly healer.

 

Pamela Taylor never pays her fees

She opens locks with other people’s keys

One look will slice you through if you tell her lies

Or nothing she can’t easily surmise.

Can you pass the bread?

Posted on by Steve Higgins

quotescover-JPG-52Blood rising Heart pumping

You were the centre of my passion, once

Though now we meet very politely

And exchange pleasantries

And touch on former days,

Lightly

 

Your husband seems nice

And I like the wine he’s chosen

At a very reasonable price.

Though you must forgive me for thinking

How I much prefer the red to the white,

Tonight.

 

Blood rising Heart pumping

Could you pass the bread?

And how much longer can we be gracious when I’m hanging by a thread?

I’m filled with desire

And thoughts I cannot mention

So, Can you pass the bread,

Instead?

The Cat from across the Road

Posted on by Steve Higgins

sam2ed

 

 

Everything seemed in order, I suppose, to die

It was a warm enough day;

Certainly

 

The sun shone and birds sung

Even though birds would cause a feline heart to race

Normally

 

I’ve had my fill of life

Of tit bits and cosy sleeps, sometimes in next doors shed

Informally

 

And I’ve had my chases and midnight hunts

And I’ve always remembered my owners and left them a mouse or two,

Naturally

 

A last cuddle would have been nice

Still, all in all it’s been a good life, and I’ve loved it

Enormously

 

I’ve always liked this tree

I can keep my eye on the birds and the sun comes down

Warmly

 

So now I’ll just close my eyes and die

And go on to the next of my nine lives

Expectantly.

The Child Inside

Posted on by Steve Higgins

quotescover-JPG-68The child inside of me.
is the child I used to be.
The hopes and fears
Of the child inside
Are still alive in me,
And every day, in every way
I’m still the child inside.

The child inside shapes the view
Of the world I see today
And the eyes of the child
Are round and wide
And I will be their guide.

For the child inside everything is new
Every road and every lane
We’ve yet to travel through
And the tiny hands of the child inside
Nestle inside mine
And every soul I touch
Will touch the child inside.

The child inside is innocent
And free of any stain
But we are linked by deeper bonds
Our soul is the very same.
The child inside
Is me inside,
the conscience within my pride.

Read more of my poetry here:

https://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/stevehiggins

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