Now no one knows what it drags
For none are left who packed it’s bags
And some do think its best not known
Where the heaviest sack gets towed.
Poetry – The Heaviest
Category: Uncategorised
Poetry – Cloaked Glass
Some cloak, I see
Through smoked glass
That a sun provides no warmth
And growth is secondary to consumption
Stripping rock bare of soil tainted
In the search for stars
Cold in their distant beauty
Cloaked in smoked glass.
Poetry – Cargo Cult
Some cargo cult
My bells and whistles tore
Worship for a week
Then the weak grew strong
And competition’s engine has
One hundred raging horses to spare
Impassioned speech buys minutes
And with these minutes I pledge
My cult following for a trip to the heavens
Without having to be buried for the privilege, if it pleases
Poetry – Self Portrait
Who said that time has to move forward in that forward does mean movement and no one should stay still?
Who knows what we mean when we say ‘I can’t go on’. As if on was something we could get on top of or even be part of?
Who really means what they mean even if they don’t say it after a respectable time of mourning, when morning comes each day whether we stay in this realm or pass?
Who says that English is a language you can speak first? First off it’s a language stolen from the poor to feed the rich with a healthy dose of post imperialism to flavour, not that you can fit enough stamps to go anywhere worth seeing.
Who says these things now our platform is screaming at ourselves in a virtual mirror? We can’t stand very well on such smooth surfaces let alone vertically.
I’ve taken to writing on paper again. It’s easier to stumble across old thoughts when you can feign ignorance of a bad hand writing.
I’ve taken to slowing down. And feeling down before looking at that long climb up.
Who said we should strive to better ourselves?
Who said I can hear what I mean when I say the opposite from pure exhaustion?
Inhale. This steam replaces smoke in flavour only.
Exhale. Find that starting point again. Who says i shouldn’t?
Poetry – Root and Cause
Root and cause
You can’t be sure
But tendrils are all you see
It’s for the best
A starting test
Chopping whilst your keen
Poetry – They Care Not For My Past
Riddled senseless
Awaiting cause’s explanation
For effect’s rude insistence
How did this begin, now we see the end
What path did I step foot on
That I wear this fated grin?
On whose whim was this the plate
I would don to meet my fate
What mind decided bladed staff
Would fit my fingers grasp?
But mine is not to question
Time for doubt has past
Legion stands five ranks deep
Uncaring for events now past.
Poetry – Current in Time
I floated still, aware
Of salted current flowing in
Time
No ticking hand in sight, through
Murky depths sands tumble
No longer confined by glass
That too once tumbled, before
Heated blast locked moments in place.
Time
Stopped
For them, imprisoning sisters and brothers to repeat
That moment of realisation
That moment of conclusion
That moment cannot be moved on from
Now glass walls highlight doom.
Poetry – Charity In Place Of State
Sisters, brothers
Hear their cry
That life will worsen if we don’t stand
Polite and smiling, walking by
.
We watch ourselves be eaten
Stripped of flesh by the strand
Coldly putting faith
In charity’s bleeding hand
.
Now we’ve been warned of worse
If we dare to stumble, crawl
Commit to burning bridges
On the easiest path of all
.
Charity in place of state
Treats wounds caused in spite
That careless bite will strike again
Till human shields ignite
.
Poetry – Spider Bite
What shock
That spider bite
Welting up on now blemished skin
Not pain as such but horror
That blisters define a space once smooth
A spider, yes
Must have been
Not that I’ve seen any spiders round here.
Poetry – Scrap Dragon
Burning bright when shade would suffice
Imbecilic vision disturbs peaceful night
Bolting light with hefty might
Hitting the ceiling and sticking tight
Blissful hunting whilst gears go clunking
Stealth is moot with rockets jumping
Screaming through green tinged sky
Dyed with the gaze of passers by
Explodes with laughter, going faster
Terrorising towns in fits of wonder
Scrap Dragon can’t be caged
Burning down till end of days.
Dim But Bright Poetry 