I saw you often with your head bowed low,
As if in sorrow from some awful wound,
Inflicted long ago.
And even when you smiled
...
Her smile may be like fire.
But don't assume desire
Your feelings in a whirl
Dreaming of some future bliss
...
My eyes now follow
Trajectories of shadows.
Deep, dark green hollows
Beneath the elder,
...
Washing the barrier reef, the Coral sea,
Brings fresh nutrients to the coral blooms,
Chrysanthemums in splendour
Where fishes of deep orange, blue
...
Love makes the world go flat,
Sparkling seascapes sweeping out
From rolling downs of wide horizons.
Shimmering skies absorbing eyes.
...
Autumn breeze, oak leaves, deciduous dreams,
Your living bark stores rings of memories,
Climatic changes, centuries of data,
Beneath my skin,
...
Compulsively concerned,
Claudia considered constipative confections.
Cheddar cheese, course.
Chewers choose cashews,
...
She leans on a wall,
Which is completely green.
Her mouth is open
And she recites a sweet verse.
...
We are in Committee, minutes read,
And we alert as hares
Ready for the business now ahead,
Until the usual bore becalms desire.
...
A shade in shadow, her face sallow,
Her lips tight drawn,
She sits alone
And glances through the window
...
The flame creates a pool
of waxy peace. Perception
Gutters on her brow's reflective
Moon.A skin is formed
...
Seeing is an Art like any others,
In essence painting by numbers.
Your perception of shapes
And colours already stored.
...
Faith is the fifth dimension,
Erecting vast structure.
The Taj Mahal, the pyramids
Great telescopes
...
We enter their final sanctuary
We pass into stark rooms where every wall
Is etched with names, their dates of birth and death,
The latter closely packed in time
...
Upon this day of bitter sorrow
I see no dawning of tomorrow
For Purry died today.
Yes, Purry died today.
...
Above, below, the deepest blues surround my berth.
The capsule is complete and gently sways,
The deep silence now inducing sleep.
Voices from the past stand sentinel
...
I watch as she moves.
I see potential mate. No!
Queen's gambit. Headache!
...
Black Hole
There's a black hole
In my consciousness
I feel less whole
Diminishing
As it swallows up the light
Diminished by my lack of Faith,
Dark, dark, dark, I become
As the sun consumed by night.
In a distant park
A lone dog is heard to bark,
Lost, bereft of its master.
I too am lost
Cry out for guidance, Faith
As the gathering night encloses.
People with Faith, hold out your torch,
And bring me back to light.
You will not scorch me with your truths.
You are just outstanding..the way you are expressing your love in your poems are really like that of Romantic poets...you are are of this generation...keep going..my best wishes and wish yo luck..Want more from you dear poet..thumbs up..
Tom is a gifted writer who has the natural and acquired ability to write and translate using multiple forms. His mastery of literature, poetry, language, and humor is evident in all of his writing.
I picture Tom as a kindhearted gentle man.....and also a gentleman.....he's poetry is outstanding in every way....from humour...to...limericks....be they long or short he will have you enthralled...from start to finish....a pleasure to have made his aquaintance.....
I am at a loss to describe Tom Billsborough. He is an erudite writer and his poetry is layered with meanings and each stroke of his pen reveals some deep, poignant truths about life. In general, his poetry is succinct, pithy and a hard nut to crack.(part-1)
Tom, are you looking down or UP at me from your post-death habitation? I'll try to get one of your poems read and commented on today. Cheers! : ) bri
He was a great editor did my poem and intro in beauty of diversity king life with angels
No words to describe the pains felt on hearing the sad news of Tom Billsborough's demise.The world has lost a great poet and a kind human being.Yes, he will always be remembered through his poems.
Deeply saddened, I bring to your knowledge the painful news of Tom Billsborough's demise. He passed away on Jan.24. His memory will remain with us, along with his poems.
Deeply saddened, I bring to your knowledge the painful news of Tom Billsborough's demise. The memory of dear Tom will remain with us, along with his poems.
It costs nothing to smile
Humour softens the blows of Matrimony
Oh, yes, Tom is on my list of favorite poets for a good reason. He is an outstanding poet, he has an exploring, adventurous mind, and he has an incredibly wide range of topics that he very poetically examines. For example: TOBY OR NOT TOBY is a great example of his prowess. At one time I think he wanted to be an archaeologist, maybe unearth the skull of Yorick- -ah, if only there were enough time to pursue all avenues of human endeavor he could wish..To be or not to be. To follow this road or that? I like the way he applied archaeology to the human mind and soul. GLEANINGS FROM THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR LIQUIDS. Do you love puns? Tom can pun with the best- -I started snickering on line #1, sniggering on line #2, chuckling on line #3, giggling like a mad scientist by line #4, totally sold by line #5. He is now my official go-to poet for having a little pun! NURSERY RHYME. Tom has such a gentle heart and it permeates lovely poems like this one which is pure sweetness. I can see it being read or sang to a sleepy-eyed little girl. I love the repetition in it. Children [and the children inside us adults] thrive on repetition, it is their and our security blanket. A SONG SUBSIDES. Tom is also a maestro! This poem is pure music- it rises and falls, pierces the heart and withdraws to watch the results. It sings! It whispers like a ghost from some unused alley in the cortex to another, reminding us of words that once upon a time spoke to us with violins and flutes and piano and lyrics. HIGHWAY MAINTENANCE. You will love his sense of humor, but he really should post a warning sign about sipping drinks being inadvisable while perusing this humorous poem- - -I got drenched while presented with his definitions of Circular Roads, Cross Roads, and Country Roads. The dry cleaning bill should be arriving shortly. A resounding 10 accompanied by laughter, guffaws, and giggles. ALL OUR YESTERDAYS. This is very philosophical and so incredibly well-written. Like I said, he can handle the most difficult topics for a poem that I have ever heard of and yet pull it off with poetic ease and his own special warmth and gentle intelligence. He asks incredible questions in this quite thought provoking piece. SEA POLLUTION. I was captivated first by the rhythm of the ocean waves swelling and ebbing in this poem- -it was like the poem was breathing. What a fascinating thing to do- I wish I knew the secret to such a piece of poetic magic. This deep motion of the ocean reinforces the message, The ocean is speaking to us through these verses, asking us to stop killing her and through her pollution to kill the rest of this lovely creation. May the world of man hear and heed Tom's words. This is certainly a brilliant write deserving of a thousand million tens. So- - - Jump into his list of poems. You'll be glad you did. He can be warm. He can be funny. He can be intellectually provoking. Tom Billsborough does not fear to take on the Mount Everests of poetry topics or types. Basically because he can handle it all.