He is a Poet
Not hard to make a poet cry, He is already about emotions. Tears race inside his soul To find the outlet of expression. He can already see With his keen eyes, The pointlessness of the thing you hold dear, How when you tighten up your
Tag Archives: scottshak poems
U B U
Careful laughs, Uptight walks, I am no stranger to the business of love, You don’t have to pretend To be loved, Love happens when you are you. Don’t hide behind gaudy masks, I want you bursting like a bubble To my candid talks. I wish
Nature’s Song
How do I find you our nature’s song In the din that man has created? Chirrups are clouded by whirring fans, Muffled by burring engines. Rustling leaves have a fever today, Sea is mourning a demise, Rivers no longer gush Without fishes to rush to
Band-aid
I have wrapped a band-aid all over my body, Coz it hurts everywhere, But I don’t heal like people often do. I carry my pain like a parched woman Carrying a pot of water Miles for her children In a deserted land. I don’t know
Beautiful Things
Is that you? Or just your wish, I can’t see past the thick layer of dust Behind which you stay hidden, Don’t you love yourself? Coz I do, Like every painting of my impeccable creator, You have been gently brushed with the finest skins And
Somewhere Else – Third Prize in Nottingham Film Festival
This one is very special to me. One of my poems was so beautifully recited by Amelia Catherine Uncles that I decided to create a short sketch out of it. Her voice felt so right that I kept envisioning a man trying to find himself in
I am Paper
Printed stories on my body, I know I become something When I am read, I erupt in words And read someone else’s misery. I stink, But ask a lover How to smell, They leaf through me To find secrets from their hell. Few know I too
Burning Up
I am seething, Flaming in this impossible heat, Thinking what did I do to deserve this, What loathsome act did I commit To seal such a painful fate? Or was it just a matter of choice That plucked out known faces, Impelled me towards cold
People Are Crowd
Walking in, Walking out Of their wretched lives, People are crowd Who don’t stand out; They hum the same song, And shoehorn all along, Till they feel safe amongst each other, And don’t bother About anyone’s radar, Not even for a man, Who sits quietly
Discontent
Ain’t afraid now Of challenges on my road, I pick them like I pick fallen berries in the woods, Or people who have lost interest In their every day, For it all sounds the same, The quiet makes them sleepy And they think now, Maybe