Morning

Lifting her her head slightly, she whispered:
“Do you believe in fate?”
“You mean like, destiny?”
He replied, eyes still closed. “No.”
“Me neither” she smiled
and settled her head back into his chest.

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Ladder

Love is not the same as like

You don’t climb the ladder
from like
to love
Love is a different ladder

Some of the rungs are missing

Thought

She’s bothered by how I over-think
everything
I think
Or maybe not

Just to See

He would think about her often
and would wonder
At the little that he knew
and what might be

For he knew he longed to see her
just to kiss her
And he knew he longed to kiss her
just to see

Nothing

Waiting on the world’s end
On the last of days
The Mayan termination
Waiting
But nothing
No sign
Would there even be a sign?
Would there be anything?
Or just nothing
Waiting
Still nothing
Maybe this is it
This nothing
And this perputual waiting
For nothing to begin

Biscuits

I stole some of those bourbon biscuits
From the Premier Inn, Ipswich.
They’re in my cupboard now,
Next to a packet of stale nacho chips,
Waiting for the apocalypse.

Haiku by Carly Simon

You’re so mista’en
I bet you think this poem’s
a haiku