Poetry Blogs (weapon)
From the land of the wall wishing brave,
where braves are no longer welcome,
or this, our island of explorers
who now wish these sea shores were
fringed with endless rows of closed doors,
have migrated many mantras of woe
fired forth from the business of diplomatic show.
And so, below the same stars
beneath which some mothers starve
- but not ours -
Friday 22nd September 2017 9:34 pm
There is me...lying.
Not lying like you say.
Lying on the floor, lying like I say.
Begging, weeping, asking.
You carnival figure, you.
You war hero, you.
You champion, you.
One leg propped upon my stomach.
Where are your gold stamps, your badges, your medals?
The trophy you stand on is all battered.
You have laid me out on the floor, the doormat
Withholding the welcome sign.
You roll m...
Tuesday 21st April 2015 9:59 pm
Saturday 12th January 2013 1:54 pm