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The Web Poetry Corner

Peter Walker


Salisbury, England, UK

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Peter Walker

Dazzled and stunned, fazed in the ring
Breathless, exposed, bells seem to sting
Dreams, nightmares, round after round
Pounding blood, spit, a smearing sound

Pushing, pulling, I'm facing my dreams
Slugging it out, holding onto the screams
Failure, rejection, everything at stake
Soaking in the punches, spitting out mistakes

Gripping the ropes, gasping for breath
Flat on the canvas, it's a fight to the death
Living the moment,win, lose or draw
Bruised black and blue I'm feeling so raw

Lodged in the corner, sponging the blood
Glazed, blurred vision, hopeless, no good
Throw in the towel, gloves hung, put away
Then quiet desperation and legs of clay

There are no guarantees you will win the belt
Without even trying you might as well melt
So I'll take each punch one at a time
Believing the final decision is mine



Peter Walker

I feel alive for the first time today
My body tingles, it's more than ok

Thoughts and feelings rushing instead
My emotions returning, I leaped out of bed

Tasting life in a completely new way
Hoping it lasts, been praying it will stay

Chemicals been evicted I'm beginning to sing
Millions of sensations "wing-ding it's spring"!

Worked through my baggage called life
Locks been busted open and there's insight

Feel so lucky it's more than a dream
Pinching myself I'm screaming "it's real"!

Free from the ties I tangled myself in
My mouth is stuck in a perpetual grin

Taking a journey, have found a place
Comfort in sad times, a warm space

It's taking a chance, exploring inside
You will discover there's no need to hide

I will cautiously step into another day
Come and join me, it's time to play



Peter Walker

In the depths of my sorrow we wept
Letting the gates flood
Pouring through the burning ground
Scarred with the suddenness of loss
I despise you for leaving me without preparing the way ahead
There can be no hope in the splinters of memory
Sweet smells unexpectedly tearing through me
Ripping my senses apart in ragged unstitchable shapes
A tapestry of single events carefully woven together marks those years we spent
Now no more
Silly sunday mornings
Drinking from the same coffee cup
Whilst fighting over the same news
News that has no meaning now
Coffee left untouched
I fancied I saw you today in a garden of flowers
We were children
Messing and larking about
The flowers danced
We sat on abench
Then you wished my sorrow away
"Remember me with hope", you said
"Don't die and wither away
You are the master of your own destiny"
And with that you went away