Tag Archives: days

More often not

(Listen to the poem here)




The day comes every day.
It brightly knocks upon your door
Sometimes you answer and
sometimes you don’t.
Sometimes you leave a message
to say that you’re not in for life
right now.

The night comes every night.
It sits upon the ground
and everywhere
it plays its silent flute.
Sometimes you listen
and sometimes you won’t.

The hours come every hour
upon the hour.
They bubble up and.
jostle at your window
looking in.
They’re always there.
And you –
more often not.


Phillip Hill – 2014

A Minor Key

(Listen to poem here)

IMG_0604.pngWhen looking back, I found my days
lay tangled in untidy heaps,
like unassorted clothes,
just washed but with the colours run.
As when there’s one thing
which turns everything to pinks or blues
my wednesdays, thurs and fries
looked just the same as all my tues—
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