Unfinished.
Missing.
My grave stone,
will be etched
in every crevice and nook
nothing will be alone.
Breathless.
Still.
That is my will.
Author: Charlie Alford
I like to think I'm a story teller. I love stories. I believe the world is filled with stories just waiting to be told and learned. I enjoy travelling down the road less travelled, with my iPhone and journal in each hand. Here you'll find all my poetic musings... Enjoy!
An Untitled Life
I like to live the way I want to live
in my own company, completely free.
My choices. I don’t ask you to forgive
coz I only answer to one person. Me.
I’ve been cleaning out yesterdays wardrobe,
my boots and pack are asleep on the shelf
neighbours to treasures from across the globe
above the costumes, that make me myself.
I bought sunflowers because they make me smile.
I have Frankie for when I want to escape.
My Sharpies are defenders of my creative trials
as I colour the pieces of my landscape.
My Chinese lanterns hang over Big Ben,
reflecting my memories of magical Earth,
collection of moments; who, what and when,
my friends as I descend, from birth to hearse.
Feel free to share...
Composed upon a hill
Breathing out my thoughts,
words formed upon Queenstown Hill;
“I am. I am here”.
Diagonal steps
long before the beginning
my road keeps growing.
Moments, I can
say goodbye to past me
just remember to breath.
Benches are made for rest
as I ascend the valley
dodging the boulders.
An iron gate creaks open
I follow ancient steps
in the winter chill.
The road changes
from forest to jagged rocks
the mountains are my compass.
The sun will keep time moving
but forever will wait
it’s just another moment
it’s just another story
it’s just my journey.
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 28/30
He closed his eyes
a thunderous start to the year
in an urban fortress
a creekside song
he fell into the electric mist
today cannot wait
the answer is yes
age is like a fine wine
hiding under a wooden chair
note the state of affairs
He was there.
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 27/30
Have you ever just stopped and noticed that buzzing,
the constant bzzzz and eternal humming?
A network of insomniacs, the lights are always on
from New York to London, and even Taiwan.
I dream of that moment, the holy grail of silence
in the deepest darkest spot of the worlds remotest island
a place where the trees won’t rustle and the winds won’t whistle
where there is absolutely nothing, not even a thistle.
But I know in my heart it will never come true
because no matter where I go, no matter what I do
I will never find a moment of complete and utter peace
when my heart beats so fast, I can hear myself breathe
Even my exhales are noisy, as they pass on out
and the voice in my head just wants to shout
I can feel the thump of my temples against my hand
and the thud of my head when it decides to land.
Have you ever just stopped and noticed that buzzing,
the constant bzzzz and eternal humming?
There is no such thing as silence, not even peace
Just me and you, and you and me.
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 26/30
Sing me a song, Red Robin
Tell me the tale
of a man and his quail
that followed the trail
to deliver a snail.
Sing me song, Red Robin
Tell me the story
of the fish called Dory
that partied with Cory
for 5 minutes of glory.
Sing me a song, Red Robin
Tell me the narrative
of the missing adjective
that was comparative
of the alternative.
Sing me a song, Red Robin
Tell me the report
of the pig called Snort
that went to court
for stealing port.
Sing me a song, Red Robin
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 25/30
The Huntsman’s name is Death,
his horses’ name is Time
they’re out to catch my breath
at the end of my line.
They wait in the shadows
they watch me at prayer
they blanket me in woe
they simply linger there.
Death and Time are good friends
they are the foes of man
every life they attend
every life they brand.
Inspired by Arthur Conan Doyle’s ‘The Huntsman’
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 24/30
There is no such thing as an easy road,
the land twists and turns at the weathers fight,
but high above where the long river flowed
pride and peace prevail at the sight.
She scrambled over the big jagged rocks,
and channeled Puffing Billy up the hill.
She pushed herself until she saw black dots
but nothing was stronger than her will.
For, when she arrived at the highest point,
she sat and surveyed the earths majesty.
Although, she had worn out her weary joints,
the journey was threaded in her life’s tapestry.
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 23/30
I wonder, how was this morning for you?
Can you remember the sights and the sounds?
It is in the moments we see the truth
a thought, while I stand upon frozen ground.
At 8, I watched the steam rise from my tea
At 9, I felt the breathe of Sunday morn
I walked, watching Winter begin its weave
the flowers stripped bare, revealing their thorns.
But, the flicker of hope remains in the sky
as the summer yellow turns to bright white
there is still beauty in things as they die
and nothing more beautiful then this sight.
So, the next time you step into Sunday
be grateful for the moment that makes May.
Feel free to share...
NaPoWriMo – 22/30
It’s 9am on a Saturday
fitbits and friends, lace up
there’s a purring koala next to me
and an adventurous little pup.
The tall eucalypts are singing us a song
as the birds harmonise
but this is our story
the tales of the creek
talking sunshine and flies.
Charlie Ann Alford 
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