Paris, Again

Here is the next video in the series of videos I have been producing for the Blue In Green collection. This one is for the poem Paris, Again. Multimedia work has always interested me and doing this series of videos has allowed me to explore some ideas on how to present poetry to people in a different way. There is more to come. If you like what you hear, please consider supporting my work by picking up a copy of the book at Amazon (the link to the book are below the video) If you are one of those lovely people who have already picked up a copy of Blue In Green and you have enjoyed it, could I ask you to visit the book’s page on Amazon and leave a review. It really helps get the book noticed. Thank you. I hope you enjoy the video.

Paris, Again from Blue In Green

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scatterings 

the carrion crow of my soul takes his nightly seat,
like clockwork, around midnight he claims his post.
dedicatedly he picks at the meat, as one dead eye fixes me.
a caw shrieks the stillness like a yellow streak of moon,
with this, the memories of you begin their feast. 
your hair falling like autumn leaves,
scattering colours on a painters palette.
upon the green lawn, your orange blossom song
like a dawn of lifetimes remembering the breeze. 
your breath upon my face and your heart beating. 
your eyes like emerald dreams. 
and the shadows merge with the light,
the clock ticks to-and-frow
and these tired lids lift the sun. 
i wake to find you gone,
with nothing left but the picked bones of love. 
no song, no dream, no you and no crow;
just this body, a scattered offering to the thunder god. 
© phillip mellor 2015

Timetables

The mornings are still these days,
The streetlights silent in the half-light
Of shadows and passing trains.
They shake the house,
I feel the mortar move and the bricks slip
Each time the track is passed.

Sometimes two cross,
Wave hello and then goodbye so briefly
There is hardly time for the sharing of names.
That’s ok, for some pass each day,
Same time, same way,
Share names and histories.

Precious moments in life.

It’s sad that the timetables change,
And two once so familiar they were almost one,
Pass on different tracks again.
It’s as if they were strangers once more,
Yet now with that hopeful glance to see if
At the same time each day, in the same place
There might be the other looking the same way
For a familiar friend, with a familiar smile on a familiar face.

Phillip Mellor 2015