Poetry Blogs (tragedy)
Jimmy Is A Ghost
Jimmy is a ghost
Of the man he used to be
He sits in the rain
Drinking second hand tea
And he hopes that his kids
Will never have to see
His hands outstretched
In an ignored plea
Yeah Jimmy is a ghost
Jimmy is a ghost
Off of Oxford Street
He has nothing left to barter
He has nothing left to eat
Just threadbare dreams
Friday 26th April 2019 3:26 pm
On a snowy day,
In a dimly lit street,
An ailing girl, utterly dismayed
Perches under the canopy of an enormous tree.
Looking towards heaven,
Her eyes well up a little.
Perhaps she’s waiting for someone special,
But all that comes to her are snowflakes, frosty and brittle.
She digs up the icy earth
With her gloved fingers.
And buries a white rose beneath the...
Wednesday 24th April 2019 6:39 pm
Like something from a gothic horror
This is not the way it’s meant to be
Pain and hurt crumbling from unsafe structures
And falling on the governments neglect
Because they’re poor
Because they’re vulnerable
Because they’re ‘not like us’
Souls lost to the flames
That crawled over short cuts
Or worse – over incompetence
Licked around the money ma...
Thursday 22nd June 2017 4:27 pm
Is the moon blue?
It turns its pale face to us;
Who knows whom its thoughts turn to.
It cannot cry, but only sigh in dust,
With no light of its own. Gasps thinly,
Too insubstantial for decay or rust.
Does it have unspoken sorrow of its own?
So it can only appear at night
And sometimes disappear, all alone,
And find solace in the dark unknown.
The sun burns away its ra...
Thursday 17th March 2016 5:28 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
The Song Of The Wandering
In darkness deeper than the mine
where, once, I scraped my fingers to the bone
a silver seam of moonlight
breaks across the boiling blackness
and I let those self same fingers
idly trail in the cold Mediterranean.
I dream of the golden sunlight
left behind in the dust, distress and bullets.
That was then and this is now.
The churning sea, the angry orders
Wednesday 13th May 2015 6:47 pm
the stink of diesel and of fear which
everyone’s pretending is not here
because if they do not name it, it will not be real
but in the hot bodies of the strangers pressed
around her she can feel
the tension of a panic only held at bay
like sea-sickness, with iron will, good fortune,
they rise and fall, jaws clench and clench again
Monday 20th April 2015 7:10 pm
When all the laughter stops, when it abides,
And all the tears of joy begin to dry,
When all the world looks up from aching sides,
And all the breathlessness allows a sigh.
A light, so brightly shining starts to wane,
But hidden out of sight, battles in vain.
When all the smiles are full, when they recede,
And straighten out into a furrowed frown,
When all the life in vibrancy concedes,
And from th...
Tuesday 12th August 2014 10:49 pm
Golden Eagle, soaring high
Shot down in flames
From hate-filled skies
Watch them die
What the hell is going on?
Bruised and battered
They shot a fucking plane down!
Innocent lives of hundreds gone
Left to mourn
The loved ones
Who won't make it home
Division - at what cost?
A political div...
Monday 21st July 2014 8:53 pm
A sound that penetrates
The hearts of all around.
Her heart explodes
She crumbles to the ground.
Her childhood stolen
With the burst of a pea.
Gone forever, gone
Her brain not meant to be.
The love stops here
A cry for help.
Come back to her
The child needs yo...
Friday 27th June 2014 8:52 pm
“Got 10p for a cup of tea?”
“If you show us where you can get one for that price,
I'll give you a quid”
He never did...
Lonely and irksome.
The bitter glow of jaundice
tears at society's rustic chains,
one tragedy at a time.
“The Freemasons took my children,
they took my baby.”
Now she's hopping magic buses,
Thursday 4th April 2013 9:41 pm
I felt nothing at first.
Just the loud crack of a distant whip, the echo
Bouncing through the crumbling streets and fetid alleyways,
Painted with the stench of unintentional sacrifices
And scorched by the Middle Eastern sun.
He can see me, this one, even now,
Staring down the lens like a wayward sailor scanning distant rocks for Sirens,
Tempting him to death.
He’s watching me cr...
Sunday 27th January 2013 11:59 am
THE JESTER The jester performs in a world full of tears, His chuckle, an attempt to allay all our fears. His joyful tones, sweet music to our ears, His mission, to help those who need it so dear. But what of the end of the long lonely road, His whimsical smile, no-one left now to goad. When the laughter runs out and the jester runs dry, As realisation sets in and he can do noug...
Monday 16th July 2012 1:21 pm
I loved you once as deeply as any man could Will
and, if the darkest truth were known,
in my heart I love you truly still
Though the distance that lies between us
may seem so very far apart
space and time will not unbind
the aching, raging heart
So farewell my love and lover once
and, as lovers ever true,
we will live and laugh and love again
like lovers that are new
Monday 6th February 2012 11:19 pm