Poetry Blogs (working class)
A city of wild hopes and dishevelled dreams,
Reclines by the riverside
Waiting for the tide of its times.
A seabound, wavecrowned, tidebound city,
City of white spray and foam,
Crested by gulls, and smiles, and screams,
City on its long way home.
A restless, relentless, unrelenting city,
Troubled by the sou...
Wednesday 4th September 2019 7:41 pm
I've been trying since I got released
I want to start anew
but it's impossible to get a job
when I can't secure an interview
they're gossiping down the bookies
and in the local boozer
they're saying I'm no kind of man
that I'm only out to use her
they're saying that I'm work-shy
'cause I stay at home all day
while she's out working two jobs
struggling by on minimum pay
I admit I've got...
Thursday 20th September 2018 11:41 am
He's getting three square meals a day
it's his idea of heaven
shares a cell with just one other bloke
he's from a family of seven
there's a TV in the corner
his toiletries on the shelf
for the first time in his short life
he can focus on himself
he keeps himself from trouble
he's not trying to prove he's hard
he keeps a healthy distance
from the inmates and the guards
he's working in t...
Thursday 23rd August 2018 10:51 pm
Where's the fucking rizlas man?
I just need a fucking smoke
to take the edge of
starting with just one almighty toke
this week's been shit. I have to say
today's been much the same
let's smoke 'til I can't see her face
and can't recall their names
she said that I'm an addict yeah
what does she fucking know?
A few pills every weekend
and a little bit of blow
a spliff for breakfast every...
Thursday 23rd August 2018 9:34 pm
She’s got two part time jobs
and works her fingers to the bone
a single mum with no support from him
but she made that house a home.
Empty promises of child support
to help to feed her pack
every bloke she’s ever known’s
always fucked off and turned their back.
She doesn’t feel resentment
she never has the time
if she gets an hour to herself each day
she swears tha...
Wednesday 29th March 2017 11:14 am
All I think of when I see these boots
is a hand full of dimes
squeaking at me through the leather
and broken soles that seem to grind
my feet to the ground
All I see is a row of wooden picture frames
and I count them, subtract them, divide them
into the hours that mark my sanity. Because I
am aware of time and can add, subtract, multiply
and divide it I breathe thro...
Tuesday 3rd January 2017 6:44 pm
From Plush Green Fields and abundant forests
To sleepy hamlets and hazy meadows
Sprouted monsters in the sky to smoke and choke
Factories of the Industrial age to dictate and invoke
Soon villages became towns, and towns became cities
Communities swallowed up, the ruling classes showing no pity
Slumlords charged extortionate rent
Working class relied on charity ...
Tuesday 24th September 2013 7:35 am
Under a northern sky,
the colour of slate,
the bones of our fathers
as we climb the hill
to reach the cross
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
Friday 16th August 2013 10:47 pm
with cobbled streets.
Working class towns-folk.
with coker clad feet,
Women with shawls on,
the men wearing caps,
A rare hardy breed, both
women and chaps,
The whistle has blown,
their all in a flurry
They dare not be late, so
they all have to hurry.
The houses were terraced
and all in a row,
Two up-two down, with a
We did'nt have a
bathroom, our "loo" was
out of doo...
Saturday 14th January 2012 7:07 am