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Sunday, January 22, 2006

Possession


Beware of the love that seeks to possess,
That's not real love, it's some kind of fake,
That way's not for me, and I must stress,
Love's only demand is to give and not take.

Written in the summer of 2005

© 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 1:29 PM
Edited on: Sunday, January 22, 2006 1:41 PM
Categories: Poetry

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Hiroshima Day


It feels like my heart
has been blasted apart
by a thousand atomic explosions
such is the intensity of my emotions

Well, I was feeling upset when I wrote this but it's just a bit of creative musing on the 60th anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima

© 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 8:14 AM
Edited on: Thursday, August 11, 2005 8:17 AM
Categories: Poetry

Saturday, July 23, 2005

Unrequited?


You are not mine
And never will be
But I am thine
For eternity

Despite first appearances, this is not a verse about unrequited love. It's just me musing once again on the subject of possessive love.


© 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 10:00 AM
Edited on: Saturday, July 23, 2005 10:29 AM
Categories: Poetry

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Fear


Fear of being burnt
Keeps our hands from the fire
But why have we learnt
To fear our heart's desire?

© 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 6:16 PM
Edited on: Thursday, May 05, 2005 6:17 PM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Armour


Emotional battles have left me scarred and sore
Like a wounded soldier returning from war
I've wrapped myself up in a cocoon of steel
Hiding from the world all that I feel

This suit of armour is stifling me
Deep within I long to be free
To release all my turmoil and all my pain
So I can begin to trust and love again

Copyright © 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 3:07 PM
Edited on: Saturday, April 23, 2005 10:12 AM
Categories: Poetry

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Chatroom Seduction


"You look nice", that's what she said,
And in response I turned bright red,
I look to see what her profile reveals,
A young lass dressed in stockings and heels,
"She is not for me", that's what I think,
But then she sends me a seductive wink.
I wink back at her and wish I had not,
This will lead me into god knows what,
Modesty prevents me from saying more,
About the night I became a chatroom whore.

Not a true story, folks. This was written on April 2nd, I've changed the date to get the appropriate order of poems in this blog.

Copyright © 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 8:20 AM
Edited on: Saturday, April 23, 2005 12:30 PM
Categories: Poetry

Monday, April 04, 2005

Chatroom Seduction II


He sits in the corner, ever so shy,
I like his look, he's my kinda guy,
I say "you look nice" and wait to see,
If he can be bothered to answer me

I watch the screen, oh, he's had a peek,
But still no reply, he's ever so meek,
He's nice in the chat, and never rude,
I hope to god he isn't a prude

Because I'd love to feel his body against mine,
And make love all night, it will be so divine,
So I give him a wink, to see what he does,
And it's returned, giving me such a buzz

How can a stranger affect me like this?
I'm tingling all over longing for his kiss,
I want him right now, I cannot wait,
I'll abandon my innocence to our mutual fate

Does he think I'm a virgin, or think I'm a whore?
I don't really care as long as he comes back for more,
It's not lust which is driving me to this,
Just my need for emotional bliss


The girl's side of the story is much more interesting, huh?

Copyright © 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 10:35 PM
Edited on: Saturday, April 23, 2005 10:16 AM
Categories: Poetry

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Mourning Walk


Tamarisk blossom, a steady breeze,
Pollen in the air making me sneeze,
Sound of water splashing against the lock,
Several boats sitting in dry dock,
A couple of crows circling above,
And I'm here without you, my love

Trees creaking in the wind, a floating log,
In the distance, the bark of a dog,
The babble of a brook as it nears its end,
A clump of daffodils when I round a bend,
The chirping of sparrows fills the air,
Oh how I wish that you were here

Silt on the path, shoes covered in mud,
Remnants of last week's flood,
A butterfly flutters in front of me,
I marvel at all that I see,
A group of walkers ahead on the track,
But it's your presence, my darling, that I lack


Written during a stroll alongside the river Severn. The sneezes and daffodils are imaginary; the other impressions are not. My humblest apologies for the bad pun in the title.

Copyright © 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 6:00 PM
Edited on: Saturday, April 23, 2005 12:30 PM
Categories: Poetry

Worthy


I'm not worthy of your love, my dearest Sue,
I'm sure I'd be no good for you,
You need a man who's strong, wealthy, and wise,
(perhaps I should ask my boss for a rise?)
I don't want you for your money, you silly moo,
What I want is, well, what I want is you,
I cannot cope with all these feelings inside,
Instead I just want to run and hide,
Maybe what I fear is her rejection,
I'll push her away for my own protection


Isn't male inadequacy wonderful? I guess we've all had such thoughts at some time or other. No significance in the name, it just happened to fit the rhyme.

Copyright © 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 2:38 PM
Edited on: Saturday, April 23, 2005 10:17 AM
Categories: Poetry

Dream Lover


You come to me in the dark of the night,
With your promises of eternal delight,
But when I awaken you're not there,
No soft sweet whispers in my ear

Copyright © 2005 Phil Randal

Posted by Phil at 10:33 AM
Edited on: Saturday, April 23, 2005 10:17 AM
Categories: Poetry

Saturday, April 02, 2005

Poetry


On Friday April 1st, 2005 I fell asleep in front of the TV which was tuned to the TMF pop video channel (my daughter was here) and dreamt that I was having a conversation with Eminem, complimenting him on his use of rhyme. When I awoke, his "Stan" video was playing (and what a brilliant poem that is). The next day was warm and sunny and I was blissfully strolling in the Malvern Hills with my mind wandering, when the first of these rhymes popped into my head and got scribbled into my pocket diary. It's the first time in my life I've written poetry.

Posted by Phil at 10:16 AM
Categories: Poetry