Poetry by David Hanlon

Not today
 
TODAY is so big
if I tried
to pick it up
I would fracture
my spine.
 
TODAY is so big
I will hide
from it again,
in the safety
of familiar walls.
 
TODAY is so big
if I don’t move it,
I’ll never get passed it:
it is too heavy
to shift alone.
 
But it is so hard to ask
for help –
 
and so, I don’t talk about how big today is.




Rise Above 

We lay them out in front of us, 
the things we love, 
watch as they melt into water, 
evaporate into mist, 
we inhale as much as we can 
but most of it rises 
above us.

​


Phantom limb
 
The sensation,
painful
as it is, still
tells me
                                you’re here.

Bio: David Hanlon is from Cardiff, Wales, and currently living in Bristol, England. He has a BA in Film Studies & is training part-time as a counsellor/psychotherapist. He has been writing poetry over the last two years, drawing mostly on his own life experiences. You can find his work online at Ink, Sweat & Tears, Fourth & Sycamore, Eunoia Review, Amaryllis, Scarlet Leaf Review & forthcoming at One Sentence Poems.

---