Here are some more of my poems. These are all older ones.

I like to rip up paper
And crumple it in my hand
It’s an underrated occupation
But it’s one I understand

———–

A drop of rain
Falling
Reflects the sun

———–

2B

Is it best
To be a tree
Floating darkly in the wind,
To be a bird
Soaring on sunbeams,
To be a worm
Wriggling through the dark,
To be a cloud
Drifting blindly between extremes,
To be me
Lost in the cold
Or just to be
Mindless and alive?

———–

I watch the roses die.
I watch the leaves fall.
I watch the houses crumble.
Must I outlive them all?

© bardofupton 2018

This is an old one, written many years ago:

your touch trails my skin
mapping the hills and valleys of my body
I tremble
flesh turning to liquid beneath your touch
but not liquid enough
you did not stir my ocean’s surface
any more than the merest breeze
and never even touched
the depths beneath

© bardofupton 2018