OLD ROCKS by Strider Marcus Jones

my vanity

remembers me,

sitting with introspection

on old rocks

that blocked

the sea-

choking insurrection.

i had bought claret wine,

but had to save it, for another time

that never came to me-

after nerves and mischief,

conspired with those divine

to hide the schlocky corkscrew

in a drawer's cemetery.

at the bottom of belief,

our compound, compromised and withdrew

back into what it knew-

with old rocks,

and the ticking, tocking sound

of two invisible clocks,

sitting on the ground,

together,

but apart-

forever

in the same, silent, wishsongs heart.

Strider Marcus Jones – is a poet, law graduate and former civil servant from Salford, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. He is the editor and publisher of Lothlorien Poetry Journal https://lothlorienpoetryjournal.blogspot.com/. A member of The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry  https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/ reveal a maverick, moving between cities, playing his saxophone in smoky rooms.

His poetry has been published in numerous publications including: Dreich Magazine; The Racket Journal; Trouvaille Review; dyst Literary Journal; Impspired Magazine; Fleas on the Dog; Melbourne Culture Corner; Literary Yard Journal; The Honest Ulsterman; Poppy Road Review; The Galway Review; Cajun Mutt Press; Rusty Truck Magazine; Rye Whiskey Review; Deep Water Literary Journal; The Huffington Post USA; The Stray Branch Literary Magazine; Crack The Spine Literary Magazine; A New Ulster; The Lampeter Review; Panoplyzine  Poetry Magazine and Dissident Voice.