Fire Is A Thrill
Fire is a thrill,
the wind the wind is blowing,
over hills The wind is a thrill, a thrill in which blowing.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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Door Slams
Sunshine arrives,
as frequent as the door slams.
The rhythm of the door turns into,
Melody. His face arrives, my sunshine,
but the door slams, into greater melody.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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Land
Can the justice wait-
the justice YOU desire,
where the battle of the main land is-
a higher way land much higher.
The battle of the day,
a crisis of the time,
a man infront, the one I love,
and he's in a land much higher.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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The Schools Library Holds No Books For Us.
For some reason- I wanted it-
your home.
It's almost dinner time at one-
and I'm unnoticeable.
Searching pictures of your home-
waiting for home time.
The schools library holds no books for us-
but at least I can look-
and pretend that I can see your home-
in the reflection of my face.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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Yellow Snow
I forced my ability today,
with nothing to do, and words left to say.
A crying fighter in the night,
I used to be so weak, but now I'm only light,
challenges, challenges.
Where they vomit, from,
I guess I'll never know.
Yellow snow, Yellow snow,
I guess why you are so funny,
is something that I'll never know,
never know, never,
yellow snow.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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What Happens when I Cry
The water in my eyes
The water in my heart
The air The air The air The air
The air that's in my soul
The water from a- crying-magpie
The water from a- stormy-sky
ALAS
Air inside a robin-bird
Air in a sky that never stirred
The water in my eyes
The water in my heart
The air The air The air The air
The air that's in my soul
Oh my eyes
My heart
[...] Read more
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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Sunset Heighting Aire
Barley sixteen and half unseen,
Who in battle engaged and never gave up,
When a sunset heights the air,
Tree's swaying, standing bare,
Like in that there,
Place of feelings where-
A sunset heights the are
Half empty filling up the day,
Empty empty full of rays,
A sunset heights the air,
The menacing mighty wind where,
This there place of feelings was,
Half empty, half full.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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White Raven
White Raven's eyes erased,
This there life of meaning,
Flying through him was his name by nature
Where there might be a Raven be?
Flying through him where the Raven He...
Thought mind over matter, matter over time
He only knew there is no life of meaning.
Of meaning over life.
And he so wished that he were black.
In this that so place where there were feathers.
White feathers longing to turn black.
poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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Eternity 28
Tender eyes erase,
There is no time for essence.
Swimming through me as a bird that's free,
Love last for eternity.
Time has no importance over the other,
Swimming through me is your love for me,
And although that you'll never know,
We are creatures of eternity.
Along the shores,
One day you shall play with me.
Like lions,
We'll run as free as birds.
Knowing we're creatures of eternity,
We happy, -
We be so curious.
And with eyelids in the air like kites-
We blink,
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poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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Ha Home
It's a funny day to be candid,
a funny day to be
frank.
It's an odd day to be happy,
when the storm is brewing black.
Black brewing over Bradford,
Bradford brewing black.
My tears wishing to remember,
if I thought England could turn
back.
It's a funny odd day,
to be in my home town,
where im standing out so,
because my skin is not black.
I know one hundred years ago,
Blake wrote about the harlots,
and they exist here too now
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poem by Rebecca Stansfield
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