Peter Lilly: Poems

I am very proud to announce that a poem of mine ' Capture Me Now ' has been published by the great people at  Bare Hands Poetry   in their latest issue.  Bare Hands is an international online journal of contemporary poetry, photography and non-fiction. The poem uses the imagery of metamorphosis inside a chrysalis to demonstrate how solitude can be useful for growth and development.  To read the poem,  click here . To see the whole wonderful issue of Bare Hands, click here.  

I am thawing. I will soon be liquid. But, for now I crack with violent snaps, and in contrast I serenely drip, drip, ripples expanding into relaxation. I am thawing. I will soon be liquid. But for now I exist in two separate forms, one hard and unbending, cold and unfeeling. The other is calm, laughing in movement, penetrable in stillness and I am alive in both. I am thawing, and I'll soon be us eful agai n . . . . Having spent the last few years working with the homeless I have encountered all sorts of people who are running from, hiding from, trying to heal from, or fighting against all sorts of traumas. Because of this I have come to view trauma as something that freezes people: It can make people hard and unfeeling, can paralyse people's development so they cannot grow and it can chill people with sorrow that doesn't fade.  The process of recovery from a trauma is difficult because there are ups where progress and healin...

The Horizon looms closer than the edge of vision, or the curvature of the earth, and the sky's third dimension stretches miles beyond the land, empty of clouds and stars. It draws me with compulsion, this great nothingness of the edge of all things. I'm sick of things, of bits and pieces, they get into your skin. They lie of necessity and draw themselves out across your walls, In front and in the way of every view of nature you've had the opportunity to see. I want to peek over the edge and experience that desperate lack of things. Tomorrow (4th May 2015) My wife and I will be moving from Northwest London to the South of France. I have been living in this area for almost eight years, since I started university, and have never lived away from the UK, so this is a big change for me. This is something I wrote last month, whilst making preparations to go. When you pack your life into boxes you realise how much 'stuff...

Subtle chains always linger, their clinking echoes in the atmosphere long after the metal has been dissolved. Every type of freedom is infant at conception and feeble in its dependance on sacrifice. Expect to have to nurture your emancipation as you fight to breathe unpolluted air with newly purchased lungs.   Written May 2014. There must always be a lot of patience involved in fighting for freedom, not least when a change has been achieved in principle, for that change to filter down into attitudes and emotions. 

The Future is shadows That have stepped out from the walls And climbed out of the ground. You can walk through them, cannot see past them. A sentimental goodbye soon ages Maturing into a nostalgic memory. The past is magnificent architecture That melts into two dimensions; Collected, collecting dust. You can see them any time, cannot enter them, ever. This will never happen again, Its all a two day old nostalgic memory. The future is the corporeal shadows Cast by buildings of the past, pictures of buildings. Written July 28th 2010, 2 days after Graduating from London School of Theology. Possibly yet to be finished... not sure at the moment.