I am currently working on a new collection of poems. They will be of a suitably darker nature than my last collection (of which I am currently considering uploading, maybe to this blog or elsewhere), I intend to focus on the Emotional rather than the Cerebral. Thematically, the poems express darkness, isolation and fear. Although I often view these themes as portentous and sentimental, I intend to convey them in an oblique manner so as to avoid being overtly obvious in terms of subject matter. I am also toying with the idea of dividing the collection into two books, one intimate reflections, the other more objective observations.
Nevertheless, I offer here a sample verse from an, as yet, untitled poem:
Now is the season I feel accustomed
To the love I cultivated in winter.
I was bereft of all hope
As I wandered into the autumnal copse
Like the leaves, my heart withered.
Dejected and denied the harvest.
In the coldness, I warmed my spirit
With one vain thought of hope
Now I feel a heat emanating,
Though I know no response to give,
Only to burn until nothing remains
But ashes to been blown in new directions.
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