3 Poems by John Bartlett

THE BLUE

The blue of the ocean snatched up by sky
Fog smudges this perfect landscape
I wait to be called by name
The violinist on the street oblivious

Fog smudges this perfect landscape
Apple-trees glow like stop lights
The violinist on the street oblivious
As children sleep, buried in dreams

Apple-trees glow like stop lights
Crowds surge like advancing tides
As children sleep, buried in dreams
The sea drifts on with no guilt

Crowds surge like advancing tides
Somewhere a single gull complains
The sea drifts on with no guilt
A small boat on a vast canvas

Somewhere a single gull complains
I wait to be called by name
A small boat on a vast canvas
The blue of the ocean snatched up by sky



SHAME

Let tides untie my deep desires,
retreating waves reveal my shameful dreams.
The roar of surf cannot erase
past deeds so badly done.

My crimes fly all around me
like startled crows in fright.
My guilt and shame,
the signs I tried,
but often failed to be
the man I thought I was.



Danger

A knife in a drawer full of spoons
Smiles unsheathed like swords
Dangers lurks in the bottom of your glass

Outside the door marauding tigers
A teabag might strangle you
A lawnmower take revenge

Sharks tread water patiently at beaches
Even serial killers queue at libraries
Assassins lurk in every shadow

Why bother getting up in the morning?
The cat might break your leg
But there’s something truly compelling about living
Even if it’s all over just too soon.


Bionote

John Bartlett‘s non-fiction and essays have been widely published and will be collated into an e-book entitled A Tiny and Brilliant Light to be released in November 2017. He is the author of two novels, Towards a Distant Sea and Estuary and a collection of short stories, All Mortal Flesh. He blogs regularly at: http://beyondtheestuary.com/