Poetry Blogs (Class War)

Golgotha

Under a northern sky,

the colour of slate,

the bones of our fathers

crunch underfoot

as we climb the hill

to reach the cross

of judgement

at the summit.

Know your place

child of mill worker,

miner, steel worker,

know your place -

for you are not

of our class,

you have no education

at our schools

and univer...

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A silence fell upon the city,

contorted shadows twisting moonlight.

Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced

bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers

in an unforgiving wind.

The wretched odour of deprivation

a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.

Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap

and by night the vampires feast on thei...

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