Poetry Blogs (futility)
Dark and bleak and empty and bare
This life is hard.. I hate it here.
Voided, eroded, saddened... barren of joy
Helpless, hopeless, soulless... a plain white wall
Mopey, lonely, gloomy...why even try
Hungerless, Sleepless, motionless...I might just die
Drowning, not breathing, cant gasp for air
Quiet pain, drenched in rain, not one care
Deserted, isolated, distressed and bored
want to, ...
Saturday 22nd August 2020 1:17 am
I am the scythe that cuts through old and young
In cornfields where the idle crows watch on
As scarecrows flap their arms in summer sun
And wonder where the greedy birds have gone
The weeds grow now where once the sharp blade fell
Stealing from us all that we once held dear
There are no devils in this weeping hell
Only children transformed through pain and fear...
Tuesday 24th March 2020 11:43 pm
Sunday 10th February 2019 11:32 pm
Time took the whole.
What I thought was mine.
We share this moment with all creation.
One quantum between all of us.
I believed experience to be whole.
I have only fragments.
And those are, at best, images and feelings.
Time eats us.
Swallows us whole.
And when all's said and done.
We leave with nothing.
Save knowing that we'...
Friday 3rd February 2017 5:41 pm
The Death of All Hope
There is always the counterstrike,
A reply to anything and everything encouraged,
Every altruistic benevolent deed,
Any reference at all to gestures of good will,
It has always existed;- teasing and tarnishing a good many -
And make null and void - every positive thought,
No choice but to experience its wrath,
Tuesday 8th November 2016 9:29 pm
The whistle blows to sound the charge
and over the top they bustle and barge,
covered from head to toe in mud
and soon tainted with flesh and blood.
Up the ladder with slippery rungs,
a scream of rage from terror filled lungs,
adrenalin coursing through every vein
with the fear of not coming back again.
Knee-deep mud sucking boots from feet,
tangled in barbed w...
Friday 24th July 2015 2:55 pm
Death; the dealer
of the final deck of life.
No hidden agendas,
just a cold slate to wipe.
With hand and sword
or rock and stone,
with shaft sailing deadly
through grey skies, alone.
The smarter the weapon,
the reaper delights
at a fulsome harvest
of terror and cries.
They split the atom
and split the odds,
they split the proceeds
Saturday 4th July 2015 8:24 pm
Let us pretend
that we haven’t been this way before
too recently and too often
that this is the way forward
that it is the road to the peace
which eluded you when you sent
planes and tanks and men
into Lebanon, Ramallah, Jenin,
Gaza, Gaza, Gaza.
Let us pretend
that this time will be different
that this time will be worth it
that you can tot up the lives...
Tuesday 15th July 2014 9:56 pm
I paint myself inspired, intense,
dismayed but remain just a fat old man
who can’t get laid
such a contrary slut
bathing myself in the corporate filth
served in styrofoam cups
the master of diversion
the circus is in town
maybe now is my chance
to pull up and over and run away
with a tired old sawdust queen
sold as seen
amidst this arrid contemplation
Saturday 28th December 2013 8:42 pm
Thursday 31st October 2013 3:25 am