Poems are Easy








Poems are easy

First break into the cash point

On Mount Olympus


Where the Muses live

And enroll in their course in

Unicorn herding.


If they don’t run them

Any longer, then beckon

Their huge flying horse.


Grab hold of its reins.

Tell it you’re writing poems.

It’s called Pegasus.


Sit between its wings,

Then rise up into the air

To study its clouds.


Ask it what they’re for –

Sculpted mists tinged with gold light;

Expired breaths of trees.


There may be treasure

Deep in their thick, white layers.

A concealed nugget –


Something no one’s seen,

The nucleus of nothing…

A sense of wonder.


You’re levitating.

Maybe it’ll change the world

If you can catch it.


Clouds disintegrate.

You’ll have to catch it in time

To fit words to it –


Whatever it was:

An ethereal beauty,

The secret of life,


Some immortal kiss

Or was it in your mind’s eye

This elusive thing…?


Each poem written

Has something hidden in clouds

Of floating language


Something no one knew

Before it flew into their mind

And they wrote it down.


A special something

You go on dreaming about

When you’ve woken up.


Heathcote Williams


By Heathcote Williams

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