Saturday, June 1, 2019

MARK ANDREW HEATHCOTE



MARK ANDREW HEATHCOTE

THREE ELEMENTS OF LOVE

Just a few short moments after making out
… It's a likely time to bicker & shout!
The moment I don't hold you, I want to be gone.
The moment I wish for you, you are timid, afraid.
The moment you are not, I tremble-
Like some over boiling, cooking pot lid.

But when making out there is a quiet moment
Transparent, like the wick amidst a candle flame
That is pure passion & fluid lit
A hot scented bed of magic
Where three elements, are marinated,
And happily are married, equally, together as one.






FUNHOUSE OF MIRRORS

It's tragic how love turns a corner and,
One or the other forget to look back-
In search of the other and continues alone.
They then are forgetting the whole journey
A fault that is a multiplicity
A fault divided equally by two, me & you.
Its then love enters the funhouse of mirrors
Trips, downstairs, gets locked in a coal cellar.
It's tragic how, love like a mature wine
Can often turn bitter and disappoint.






SO THAT GOD MAY BE ALL IN ALL

God is He not all things to all people
All faiths all beliefs; love Him or Loathe Him,
Isn't He the oil on an artist's easel?
Chameleon without a pseudonym,
Ever present ageless one and, the same.
God transforms all things with His, alchemy
We, His base metals are put sorely aflame!
The metamorphosis a malady
Which, there's no escape other than burning
Either full to brimming with love or hate
In certainty, that fates ruthless churning
Whatsoever road, will appreciate?
God is He not all things to all people
And to men who liken a changeling child
Who grows weary crying like a seagull?
What welcoming land or shore, shall they find?
He the rainbow after the raging storm,
Stretches each our canvases, one and all
Frames every brush stroke to somehow transform
Those lowly, base elements, each their core.






WHO DOESN’T LIKE THE SOUND
OF THEIR OWN VOICE?

Who doesn't like the sound of their own, voice?
I understand, and I agree
And I believe deep down what you say
That you indeed truly, believe
Is real to you, to me you believe, it to be utterly, true.
Yes, I understand, and I agree
But even truth can't be trusted in the hands
Of a faithful, few that'll believe anything
As long as it helps their moronic good, cause.
It's a maze twisting and turning this langue
Of course, it's all plagiarism anyway
We are forever circling chasing our own, tails
Pen chanting, preaching part and parcel
Proofreading our own, misunderstandings
Sharing our own experiences our own, existence,
I understand and I, wholeheartedly agree
Unequivocally, unquestionably, undeniably,
Categorically, indisputably my friend
It all sounds reasonable to me
Don't get me wrong I support your sentiments
Your integrity isn't in any question
But I forget what it was we were talking about
Before I rudely interrupted you
What was it you were about to say?

MARK ANDREW HEATHCOTE

MARK ANDREW HEATHCOTE is from Manchester in the UK, Author of “In Perpetuity” a book of poems published by a CTU publishing group ~ Talents Unleashed He works as an adult learning difficulties support worker, who began writing poetry at an early age at school. Mark enjoys spending his leisure time off work reading and writing and spending time gardening.




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