Poems 1

This small offering of poems, hastily written in bars and on top of the moors, is probably of more therapeutic use to the author than the reader. I’ll let you decide. You may freely copy the poems and use them in electronic or printed publications, but only with the express condition that the line showing my copyright is always included.


Lonely alone,

Lonely in a crowd,

The feeling of no escape

Cannot be allowed.

The beating music

Beats not for you,

But for other hearts

Whose love is new.

Alone in the street,

Lonely in sleep,

No happiness to come,

No love to keep.

Lonely alone,

Lonely in a crowd,

The feeling of no escape

Cannot be allowed.

©Ray White 2006


[I have never seriously considered suicide, but I can understand those that do.]

I stand atop the dizzying edge,

My life given without pledge.

I watch the hurrying streets below.

Does anyone feel or really know?

If I take that step into the air

Will anyone notice, anyone care?

©Ray White 2006


The bright light of dawn,

Which so filled the room

Soon turns to gathering gloom

And the sweetness of life is gone.

©Ray White 2006


How precious your face

How lovely your eyes

Your beauty more bright

As love’s hope dies.

How precious your hands

How wondrous your gaze

Your beauty more bright

In love’s dying days.

©Ray White 2006


When I was young, hope,

But with age, light fades

A blood-red sun cries

In saddened glades.

©Ray White 2006


Iron wheels spin me far from home,

Never to return.

Now is the time,

My past to burn.

©Ray White 2006


The river, atom to atom,

Is united to the sea.

And so the Universe flows,

Endlessly to me.

©Ray White 2006


A candle flickers in the gloom,

The only hope in a darkening room.

It splutters,

The wax drips,

The clock ticks.

©Ray White 2006


A real man has the power to crush

But tenderly cherishes;

A real man has the strength to kill

But instead begins life;

A real man has the ability to hate

But only gives endless love.

©Ray White 2006


Voices in halls,

Pictures on walls,

I want, he cries

Death, he dies.

©Ray White 2006


Dimensions one to three,

That’s all we can see

As for the other eight,

They may be our fate.

With our vision so small

We cannot see it all.

Trapped in fragility,

We’re set for eternity.

©Ray White 2006