Backstreet to Richmond Road

Recently, the very mysterious Brutus has earned his personal seat by the fireplace, in The Cove. He comes and goes, where? No one knows… But when he visits, he leaves micro poems I love, and since they are in my comment boxes, I was afraid I’d lose track of them…

So here’s the collection of the ones he offered me so far, and the links to the posts that inspired them! I hope you’ll enjoy his way to play with words as much as I do…. And if it is the case, take a moment to visit him down Richmond Road!



A cloud is where it all begins
A vision forming
Vapour thin
Aloud those dreams
When lightning strikes
The heart of things
We both know what the cloud must bring
It rains
It rains. On everything.




I still wait for you
On the other side of dawn
Where the light joins us



Black & White

When the lights are out
There is nothing
But black
And white lies
And compromise
Holding us together
With clandestine ties
Over eyes
To bind
Lest we find
A light
In the night
Shining down
On our guilty love
Before the dawn
We know forever
We must never
Meet again.




Hear the thunder
From above
The sound of falling
Out of love

Raindrops bursting
Sky of black
From here there is
No turning back

Hearts are broken
Tears are shed
The sheets lay cold
Upon the bed

They can’t be fixed
There is no glue
To reconnect
Both me and you.

So close the curtains
Slam the door
The world won’t see me

I would such a writer be
If not for the technology
Although I’m good at other stuff
I just can’t seem to write enough
I can clean and I can cook
Can’t seem to write this fucking book
And since the world went digital
I can’t do anything at all
Give me a rocket, then I’ll try
To write my message in the sky.
Oh , wicked winter
Transfixed by your icy glare
I am held frozen
Put aside
Sweet modesty
And please forgive
The same in me
Put to sleep
Your silly fears
Of fading youth
And passing years
For we are what
We’ve always been
Your beauty
As I’ve always seen
May I spread honey
On your bread?
May I Prepare
Breakfast in bed?
Hippity Hoppity
Clippity Cloppity
Tap dancing down the street
Yippity Zippity
Such serendipity
That we two dancers might meet.
Biting into you
Feeding off your energy
Like a parasite
Of Cyranny I have not heard
She hasn’t said a bloody word
So every night I mope and pine
Mixing teardrops with my wine
Mixing dreams with forlorn hope
For I am a romantic dope
I cannot tell her how I feel
For fear that she may think me real
So I will miss her. Just a bit.
But it’s OK. I’ll sleep on it.
I can lead a horse to water
But cannot make him drink
Can teach a monkey mathematics
Cannot make him think
Can teach an old dog brand new tricks
But cannot teach respect
Can give you everything you want
But not what you expect
I crept into the bathroom where
You left a single strand of hair
A memory now between my fingers
As in my thoughts your perfume lingers
Tasty little words
Little traps to catch sweet eyes
Hungry for replies
You can’t trace the lines around my eyes
To see what they have seen
You can’t touch the wrinkles on my hands
To be where they have been
You can’t feel the scars upon my flesh
To understand my pain
But you can look into my heart and know
I’d do it all again
A haze of love
I trip. I stumble
A lamb alone
Lost in the jungle
I search for words
I whisper, mumble
Head over heels
For you I tumble
One step backward
Two ahead
Heart of paper
Feet of lead
Along this path
To you I’m led
The jungle rumbles
In my head


After Eight Moment

A flickering flame
Bonds you with wax
It whispers your name
Bids you to relax
The closer you come
The more you perspire
Come shed your skin
Come light the fire


After Eight Moment

Our love is like chocolate
Melting softly between lips
And sips
Of champagne
As we drink
And think
Of the future
Knowing that
If we keep doing it
More than a bit
We’ll get fat
And what’s wrong with that?


Crayola haïku (Tickle Me Pink)

I prefer mine black
I watch my back. A disguise
Of more than just eyes


Cupid’s wish

Love may not be yours to give
May not be mine to take
In the end we both shall live
With the decisions that we make
Love does not decide these things
Love is come what may
Through open eyes to what love brings
Love will find a way


After Eight Moment

There’s a thing about your smile
There’s a thing about your style
Not sure you’re real
But can’t help feel
I want to be with you a while.
We are but passing ships
But there’s a thing about your hips
And so red
They speak of bed
There’s a thing about your lips.



Passion is a beast
Lighting invisible fires
So that I can see


Knew you never

What do I make of our one-night tryst?
‘Twas a hurried coupling with a twist
You took a swing
Wish you’d missed
Placed me on the offenders list
So baby I’ve been a masochist
From that moment we first kissed
Is there a way we can co-exist?
‘Cause I felt your heart
Before I felt your fist



I hear the birds sing
The first moments of Spring
To you I do red roses bring

So Summer was nice
All sugar and spice
And a moment or two of Paradise

I wait for your call
As Autumn leaves Fall
I wonder if you love me at all

Now the chocolates I sent
Have failed to prevent
The Winter of our discontent


Soaking beauty

You spoke of waking from your sleep
Then of wading ankle deep
In pools of tears conveying love
Descending on you from above
Where Gods make fools of man and beast
I am a fool for love, at least



Into Rhapsodie

And the taste of those lips
Between slips
Of the tongue
Inhabits my dreams
How I wish
I was young


Micro poésie du vendredi

I met her – mon ami, one day
A waitress. She was French
But had to wash my hands of her
I couldn’t stand the stench.


Her eyes kept burning though my skin
I could not douse the flame
Her lips kept eating through my heart
I could not bare the pain
I have a weakness for these things
I have myself to blame
I can’t erase you mon cheri
I confess je t’aime



Lucky me

So many words I cannot write
As I stumble on to death
I’ve felt your thoughts
I’ve felt your heart
Yet never felt your breath.



Porn star

If life is just a journey
I need a slower car
I’ve seen too many places
On the journey so far
You need to go in both directions
To find out who you are
Before I was a nun
I was a porn star



You can try

Hey, she said, we’re made for each other
You and I will always fit
No, you’re not right, it’s a little bit tight
You might have to change just a bit.
Please, she replied, you’re welcome inside
Please call my address your own
I still don’t know, just why I said no
Now my own time is all spent alon

8 thoughts on “Backstreet to Richmond Road

  1. Holy Smoke! I just noticed that I have been accused of stalking. There is a first for everything. Ladies and Gents, I assure you that my intentions are honourable. That I may in fact be, a creepy old man, has nothing to do with it.

    Liked by 2 people

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