I can't put it into words
By blighters rock
- 1399 reads
I can’t put it into words
I’m lost
In this perpendicular perspective
Of the intersection
My view from the third floor
Across Chertsey Street.
I’ve just moved
Still a pig in shit
Wondering how I got here
But the view
Well
The view is extraordinary
And I don’t think I deserve it
so I just can’t write.
Too much going on in there anyway
slaving all day up and down ladders
Banging my head on scaff nuts
But it’s good to be back
Busy
Doing the old ragged trousered again
Trying to keep cool under the heat
Of their powerful minds.
It’s different now
I’m a proper painter
Still learning new tricks
open to changing my ways
but the work’s so gruelling
a pint’s much more inviting
and then the night’s gone
till tomorrow.
But the view
Well
The view and all its inspiration
will have to wait
Till winter
When there’s less work on
When I can put into words
The love in my heart.
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Comments
You can, blighters. This is
You can, blighters. This is lovely. An assured voice - direct - teases us about what we want to see and where your heart is.
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love this, and love the
love this, and love the optimism bubbling under the surface
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...and it is well deserving
...and it is well deserving of them.
Tina
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The paint fumes are obviously
The paint fumes are obviously good for stimuating the poetry part of your brain. Glad you're enjoying the view!
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