Inanimate bloodstains,
Dust in the tears’ of men.
Weeping willows shade the truth.
Come,
Come again,
Where fields of Love lay
Barren.
Still these wandering eyes,
Still this beating heart.
Fires of passion,
Dear,
Dead,
In the languid souls of men.
Of men, we wonder.
Of men, we scoff.
Of men, we take.
Till only Death remains.
Poetry
Superstar
Dead Paper
There’s days
Where the words feel like makeup,
Simple adorations,
On a body
Long since passed.
Each poem, a corpse,
Each word, a brush stroke,
Until eventually
A graveyard has emerged
And we silently read
The profound headstones:
Eloquent, beautiful words
On yellowed, dead paper.
A Thanksgiving Poem
Behind Existence
We can’t know
What comes
And what goes.
The vague lives
Lived
Inside an earthen sphere.
Feel these,
Feel me,
And grow.
We the unknown,
We who come,
Are gone.
Something
I’ve been having issues
With mattering.
That motivational,
Existential, purpose-driven,
Something.
And that’s all it is,
Something
Is missing.
And my fingers can’t place it,
My mind can’t source it,
But there’s
Something
Out there,
Calling me.
Regardless
I don’t remember where I was.
The feelings
Flew? Flowed? Fled?
I can’t recall
the initial altitude
Or velocity
Of those temporal emotions
But I know
I’ve held onto you
Regardless.
I am not
On Outreach
Is there significance
In reaching out?
Searching out readers,
Following them,
Assessing their works,
Undressing their mind,
They all seem
A bit of a game.
A tennis match of likes,
A quid pro quo following,
This for that,
Tit for tat,
Criticism and compliment
Because every opinion matters.
Is there significance
In reaching out?
Does the need for companionship,
To eliminate loneliness,
Justify
This ravenous search?
When the world is hollow
And your mind is blank,
Does the voice of reason
Appear, suddenly,
On the blog of another?
Is there significance
In reaching out?
To preach my practice,
To help others understand,
That we can do better,
So very much better,
Than the prison cells
We call home?
Is there significance
In reaching out?
Yes.
Undeniably and undoubtedly,
Yes.
New Releases
This selection of 67 poems represents a collective meander of thought and observations created over a long period of time.
What If? is anyone’s decision made and the reflection, at any given moment in time, which led to the now in life. The ‘what ifs’ are with us every day.
…What if a man was penniless?
What if each dream he earned?
I could talk to him in confidence
And be richer for the lessons learned…
Poems from the Book:
“Fat Cat Ambition”
There is a time and there is a place,
You are always there to fill a space,
Sometimes needed sometimes not,
Sometimes remembered, sometimes forgot.
The time the place on earth, the space
Where and when depends on your own pace,
Depends on the reason, the choices we make,
Depends on your conscience and those we forsake.
Around every corner lies the unknown,
Beyond each horizon we have not yet been shown,
But do your deed well with a conscience bright
Not with a heart as black as the night.
We all think we’re right and we all do our best
We all put others to our own test,
But cruelty and cunning sadly reign supreme,
With the ladder of ambition and self-esteem.
Pay attention and look, for the further you climb
The rungs disappear and become a fine line.
They won’t always be there to handle your weight
And for fat cat ambition, support comes too late.
“Brothers”
May your differences be small ones
May you always know how to forgive
Leave time to enjoy and live.
Don’t allow a grudge the space in your life
Reserved for tranquility.
Don’t make a burden cast upon you a liability
Know yourself and your brother
Always make time for one another.
“What If?” can be purchased through the Book Depository:
https://www.bookdepository.com/What-If-Peter-Webster/9781839751363
in addition to Amazon and other online retailers:
This unique poetry collection can also be downloaded in e-book format from:
Press/Media Contact Details:
Grosvenor House Publishing
Tel. 0208 339 6060
E-mail: info@grosvenorhousepublishing.co.uk
