Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Three Poems by Anthony Ward

Gem Stone

If only I could give donation to her heart,

Then maybe I’d be more charitable towards her.

It pains me for her to be this close,

While I remain so distant,

So far inside myself,

Afraid to speak,

In case my words reverberate against me in waves of mortification

And send me further into the mine of my mind,

Chipping away at the rock in search of something

That will enrich me from the darkness.


She lies for me.

She tells me how handsome I am,

How beautiful I make her feel.

She tells me how intelligent I am,

How I make her life more interesting.

She tells me I’m a joy to be with,

How she’s never been happier.

She tells me how much she loves me,

How great I make love to her.

She lies for me.


I’ve always chased the girls

That were running from me,

Not noticing those

That stood behind me,

Rendered claustrophobic

By their proximity,

Causing me to run,

With them chasing after-

Not understanding the way I felt.
Anthony tends to fidget with his thoughts in the hope of laying them to rest. He has managed to lay them in a number of literary magazines including The Faircloth Review, Drunk Monkeys, Jellyfish Whispers, Turbulence, Underground, The Autumn Sound, Torrid Literature Journal and The Rusty Nail, amongst others.

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