'Found' poems

A series of 'found' poems composed using an app that scrambles Facebook posts. I have taken the everyday things that I say and created a new space for them to exist in. I've found this interesting as an exercise in using social media as a tool in what is still seen as a more traditional art form. And to see which words I use a lot. There is plenty of love, sea and weather here....

When we are speaking

Your mouth mirrors the light,
Like rain and soft twilights.

This day cannot stand the constant
Howlings of wind. Nor can the trees,
Or urgent love.

I am more used to my sadness than you are.

The night brings another rose
And eyes the colour of pines.

                        *****

You meet the weather coming the other way.
I suffer the air.

It is more than love; this fiery kiss,
This animal sunset.

Your stark pupils tell of the hawk’s violence,
The hare’s blood. The bones at the strandline.

                        *****

Sea; let me stop now:
The solitude, and this weather.
I’ve begged to be too much better
Than I seemed; dangerously.

Only the hopeless prayers are left.
You balance your lashes, trying
And failing, to leave everything behind.
Mostly rooks in your shut mouth.

I watch as my words become strained
At your pace. Our rendition of love,
Vast and grey, yearns silently over the house.
You are choral; gregarious at the least.

This more than qualifies me your sweetness.

                        *****

You come now and then
Bringing your face before you.
I eat what little you give me.
My smallness grows.

In the woods, where we settle,
Nobody knows us.
We play at love.

Foxes gnaw at my grown nails.

                        *****

I will know tomorrow if it has been too long.
Hunger makes me sharp; it is my version of wildness.

The moon keeps the men in her wake
From their feral yowlings.

My meanings are blurred.

Yours are more pure.

Your eyes are fine, like mist and clarity.

I eat from them gladly.

                        *****

I love with the punctuality of a rainstorm,

Watching your eye’s dismay. Oh, but the song
On the sunny beach, made up as you walked
By the rims of anguish. Thinking
I’d go into an endless ecstasy for your boozing stride.

I wait to explain to his face in a photograph.

The others stand still around. I’d hold all the sea;
A snake coiled in the history of forever.
Love – the lungs stretch their intricate wings.

Memories of the evening;
The weft of my lifelong ailment,
The length of our lightening.
A wind still still hauls on them

Held in by the blackbirds.

                        *****

Today I leave the house for the others.
Lovely things tear my eyes,
But they bleed through the weather – through the sea.

I love the eyes of these stubborn hedges –
No more yours.
What kind of green blood
Swam to your good wishes?