Along with reams of short stories, and longer attempts at fiction, I’ve written countless poems over the decades. The bulk were written in my teens and twenties and I literally have folders full of handwritten and typewritten compositions.

I’d been threatening to put a selection into print since the mid-90’s. I remember discussing it with an old girlfriend in ’95 but a number of things always seemed to stop me. Part of that was not really being sure if I wanted to share them with the world, part was never having the time to go through what was amounting to thousands of bits of paper – ranging from typed and formatted finished compositions to hand written stanzas on the back of paper bags, or anything I had at hand when inspiration hit.

A few years ago I finally got round to sorting out a collection and published them under the title “Wild Card Symphonies”. Consisting of three smaller volumes of my work, “Wild Card Symphonies”, “Cry To Me”, and “This Graveyard Heart”, the book totaled just over 120 poems. You can buy a copy (plug plug) through Lulu on one of the links at the bottom of the page if you like what you read and want to have more.

Masks

I turn

And see a mask.

I guess,

But I don’t know why.

–

I keep on asking

But only silence greets me.

I feel confusion

As you walk away.

–

I don’t know why.

I haven’t got the answers.

No one’s told me

The evening news.

–

Violent colours

Flash around me,

Faces changing

Looking for me.

Don’t you see

They’re all wearing,

masks,

And looking for….

–

I call to you,

You turn around.

And I see the tears

You bleed from your eyes

Of swirling colours.

From those eyes

Once so blue.

–

I look at you Full of questions

For answers I don’t know.

When I ask what is wrong

Silence only greets me.

I haven’t heard

The evening news.

–

I’m caught in colours.

I’m out of vogue.

I’m thrown in to sounds producing,

Voices coming from the….

Masks,

Everyone’s wearing.

–

Everyone’s wearing.

Masks.

–
Violent colours

Flash around me,

Faces changing

Looking for me.

Don’t you see

They’re all wearing,

Masks.

And they’re looking for….

–

I turn

And see your mask lifted.

I guess,

But I don’t know why.

–

You tell me to be quick,

To leave while I can.

But to always look behind me

For those hidden in masks.

When I ask what’s wrong

Silence greets me

And you tell me it’s best

If I don’t know anymore.

–

Behind those once pale blue eyes

There’s a pool of swirling colours,

And the blood of tears

When you know that

There’s no more kisses

And all your heroes lied.

–

You fell in love,

But were told not to.

So now in warning

You’ve lost your disguise.

You’ve dropped your mask

In violent colours,

And wave to me good-bye.

–

(MASKS By A R J Abranson; 24-01-91/14:11- 14-04-91/20:40)

My poetry anthology, Wild Card Symphonies, is available to buy now on Lulu in both Softcover and Dust Jacket Hardcover.

—————————

Wild Card Symphonies, Cry To Me & This Graveyard Heart are Copyright ©2015, Angus Abranson. All rights reserved.
Cover design by George C. Cotronis (Ravenkult Studios, www.ravenkult.com) Copyright © 2015 Angus Abranson
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
No reproduction in part or in whole without prior written permission from the author of the copyright owner.