Poetry Blogs (Homelessness)
The peasants have gatecrashed the reception
And made a beeline for the buffet plates,
The guests are appalled
Saying “Let’s get them hauled
To the dungeons before it’s too late”.
There’s a tramp hiding under the table,
A pheasant leg clamped in his teeth.
He’ll gnaw to the bone
While the table guests groan
About the smell that wafts up from beneath.
Sunday 20th May 2018 10:29 am
Been working on this for a while... not sure about it really, but see what you think..
Stu of the Steps
This is my pitch, here’s where I sit
Cardboard and cushion to keep cold at bay
Down steps from the station, just half way
Gives em time to see me, reflect a bit.
Not all the way down, hanging in there
Holding my own, keeping my space
Forgotten detritus of t...
Tuesday 8th May 2018 9:25 pm
They pretend not to see me
as I lay here cold, drenched, dying
coughing up blood from the chill to my lungs
my clothes tattered....torn
sleeping bag drenched not only through exposure
but the bloody minded ignorance of someone
who has never known desperation
using my only source of warmth and comfort
as a urinal
Lips cracked through dehydration
pernio bringing ag...
Friday 13th April 2018 9:00 pm
So many are falling from the skies, of comfortable lives
Until between the clouds, we can see me and you
Drinking in the bar one minute
Then outside Tesco
So many are breaking up inside
Falling from the skies,
Of comfortable lives
Passing the credit cards
Trying to grasp Universal Credit
Fingertips touching their children
On the way down
Wednesday 18th October 2017 11:22 pm
Bag Of Bones
Please let me introduce myself -
my name is Billy Jones.
You might know me better
as that useless bag of bones
that gets under your feet
when you’re staring at your phones,
planning all your creature comforts
on extortionate pay day loans.
Well I was once like you my friend,
I haven’t always been alone
huddled up in corners
where the autumn lea...
Friday 17th March 2017 12:58 am
Forsaking Auld Lang Syne
The city centre puddles
reflect fireworks in the sky
Christmas wrapping paper
soaks up the deluge
like a homeless sleeping bag.
Dustbins overflow with leftovers
oiled with greasy greed.
A bottle of wine splatters against
the multi-storey car park wall,
vomited from the throat
of opulence at midnight.
Sunday 1st January 2017 7:53 pm
This Is England
the empty cardboard
coffee cup groans with hunger
eyes to eyes to anything
that isn’t eyes
clothes that itch with dirt
the taste of yesterdays soup
settles against teeth
sleep is the enemy
dulling your hopes of escape
if the spiteful arrive
with mean intentions
and brown leather boots
head bowed against the world
not looking ...
Monday 18th April 2016 8:26 pm
It’s the final burial ground –
the place where they go to die;
lapping dirt-brown waves;
tourist couples bidding goodbye.
Ships slicing through soundlessly,
as smog adorns the sky.
A pigeon hobbles by on its stump,
while a gull lets out a mournful cry;
beside benches, an old man holds out his cup;
on the cobblestones stands a solitary bride.
A homeless girl leans agai...
Wednesday 30th March 2016 11:40 am
Thursday 28th May 2015 10:26 pm
The rain has fallen down for twenty hours
from a dead sky of slate and granite hews,
dampening the walls of urban towers.
Cobbled streets the colour of an old bruise,
tyres rattle over pothole dark drains,
counterpoint to some distant splashing shoes.
The day cast in monochromatic stains
as water forms itself into a lake
that eddies into inner city lanes.
A passing car cre...
Tuesday 25th November 2014 7:13 pm
He risked his life for the country he loved, For those he cherished for all of us. He went to war, and he fought hard, His body bruised his memory scarred,
Now his rights have gone away, He lives alone, uncared for, abused every day. He was lucky in some respects, He made it home, he survives yet...
Tuesday 2nd September 2014 8:32 pm
Tuesday 2nd September 2014 8:22 pm
Saint Stephen's tale
It's Friday, sweets from Mrs Smith
Degeneration X and anarchy
Frankie's words: two tables, four chairs, suspension.
Discovered passing the buck, and thus passed it.
Stole the show with Twenty-one Questions, four dancers, and a singer.
First girlfriend changed everything, "You're young, she has baggage - get rid..." … did...
Sunday 7th April 2013 3:01 pm