Tag Archives: verse

Plughole

Beneath the window, looking down at the London leaf papaya,

Beneath the shivering tree,

All the day’s rushing, submerged.

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Thumpng vein, dizzy heat, wrinkled steam,

Guts and organs floating within a wobbling cell,

I hear the drip, drip, drip, of the cold water tap.

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The ship creeks with the weight of it’s ocean,

The tiny shreeks of nudity,

that come from a seabed so smooth and clean.

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Seaweed skinny legs, nick nack toes,

Heartbeaten ripples, sloshing in stillness,

Beside the drip, drip, drip, of the cold water tap.

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Bare bones, rack of ribs,

Caged in breathlessness beneath the waterline,

Without a plug to pull.

*

No reflection in the opaque mirror,

But an echo that smashes the silence,

Of the tiled white room,

The drip, drip, drip of the cold water tap,

Nothing more pathetic than a poet,

The drip, drip, drip of the cold water tap,

Nothing more pathetic than a poet.

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Travel Sickness

City summer heat, bad dreams, stuffy street lamp nights,
Spinning visions of how big the world seemed to be,
When she was just a few hours from flight.
No thoughts of the things we could be, twisting hopes of careless might,
A vision of the world we see, feet slowly trapped in the sodden tide.

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Something beautiful in the sadness once known,
Last night’s evening news now blowing down tattered tube lines,
When all believe god is on their side,
Drunk in deluded righteousness,
Left with a pyrrhic sense of pride.

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Calculate the cost of distance,
The red eyed loss of time, sitting in an uncomfortable aeroplane chair,
Looking what you were trying to find.

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Lost in the leaving,
Forgetting so shortly a face to always recognise,
A decision to regret,
A name that sinks inside this seat forever
A face stored in memory, lost in the present tense,
Darkened by the judgement of ebbing time.

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Thunder In The Valley

A firework sparks to shatter the crinkled sky,
Gunfire in the valley.

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A sparkler’s ember in the wet bog lies,
The landmine waits endlessly.

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Explosions echo in the emptiness of night,
Old homes, evacuated buildings.

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Faces of amazement, lit up like fireflies,
Heads bloodied with machetes.

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Dogs barking running from the dancing fire,
Children hiding from murdered mothers.

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Night’s silence marking the end of the day,
Days ending marking a night of blood thirst.

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Today’s the day we celebrate,
Tonight we fear for tomorrow.

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Tonight effigies are burnt and heroes made,
Tomorrow is filled with sorrow.

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