Poetry: For Remembrance

November 11, 2017

 

 

You were young men in the Guards

treading water in wretched trenches

swinging kitbags and rifles and broad silly grins

 

so young

that two billion volumes single-spaced wouldn’t be enough

to list all of life’s treasures

you haven’t experienced yet

and still you would die

right then

right there

doing right

or so you thought

as you lay where

no-one could tell where

mud ended and blood began

 

three and four generations removed,

we lay wreathes for your wraiths

on a hollow day in November

while the parades and the poppies

hallucinate

an annual landscape of memory

 

profound today, gone tomorrow

 

and for three or four days the flowers fade

and the greenery browns at your memorials

and then the work crews come

 

young men and women with guarded futures

treading water at minimum wage

swinging brooms and shovels and black plastic bags

 

and when the work trucks leave

your memory has turned once again

to cold undecorated stone

and nothing can ever change

the fact

that you died before you started living.

 

 

 

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Poetry: Birth

November 6, 2017

 

We begin our passage

by passing

through a passage,

the passing through of which

seems like a lifetime

to both passenger

and bearer

 


Poem: Forward

October 30, 2017

 

The forked tongue of the future lies ahead

Beckoning us forward.  Advance!  Progress!

Regardless of the perils and our dread

 

Of failure, ever onward must we tread.

And no matter how much we feel the stress,

The forked tongue of the future lies ahead.

 

And whether we fly the black flag or red,

The same indignations we must address

Regardless of the perils and our dread:

 

The starving masses, children barely fed;

And even for those who have even less

The forked tongue of the future lies ahead.

 

So throw away your doubts; let us instead

Rejoice in future’s coming, and impress —

Regardless of the perils and our dread —

 

Our generation’s mark.  Let it be said

We lived, loved, built, and understood that, yes,

The forked tongue of the future lies ahead

Regardless of the perils and our dread.


Poem: Moments

October 23, 2017

 

 

ordinary lives shattered by

curiosity

&

revenge

invisible shadows reflected off

murder

&

bodies

momentary madness defence fails to

execution

&

nothing

 


Poem: Call In The Middle of The Night

October 16, 2017

 

“You what?”

“You what?”

my voice echoed down the line

like a bedlamite

bouncing off

cushioned walls.

Then,

suddenly,

the silence,

the quiet electronic crackles,

hung in the dark night

as if my question had gone,

disappeared down a deep and endless well.

 

Minutes passed, maybe hours.

 

In the end, I whispered “I love you”

and put down the receiver

as the bitter sting of nausea overwhelmed my throat.

 


Poem: Midnight Snack

October 9, 2017

 

It’s 2am and the furnace

of our passion

is cooling     slowly

 

we rise, tottering together,

arms entwined,

to the kitchen    kissing

 

after making love

we make toast

thick with butter     oozing

 

rich strawberry jam

streaked like blood

or rust on a fence     rich

 

as sweet love’s triangle:

you and me and toast

 


Poem: Descent

October 2, 2017

 

The rustic lane unwinds

its way from the mountain

like a lover leaving her man

after a lingering entwining kiss;

 

a solitary clump of bluebells

reflects aquamarine raindrops

on the hood of the passing car

like mirrors round as hazelnuts in the mist;

 

and as I ignore the windowed beauty

the weekend ending burns into my soul

leaving me wondering if, once I’m gone,

she’ll remember me with a cheer or a hiss.