Poetry Blogs (2011, poverty)
Jason Zane on Untitled (7 hours ago)
Jason Zane on Healthy!!! (8 hours ago)
Recently I took a trip to Cardiff and was shocked by the level of homelessness in the city. It’s there but for the grace of god for all of us. I feel we ignore this. Having lost my job after a stroke, I was lucky to have insurance and a pension, if not then I may well have been left homeless. We never know what cards we will be dealt. Next time don’t just turn a cheek.
Next time we turn aw...
Tuesday 9th July 2019 12:24 pm
"Do I know you?"
"Who do you know?"
"I have no time or space for new "acquaintences" now."
"Move along, move along..."
Welcome to the city.
Please spend your money freely, then leave.
The social circles are full and are not accepting new members.
The Big Company grows and blossoms of new drones fall...
...onto the street with the old drones and the traffic.
The city was bui...
Wednesday 12th June 2019 4:43 pm
There’s Gonna Be A Party
But Your Past Is Not Invited.
Dreams Aren’t What They Used To Be,
Darker Days, Darker Ways.
Life Ain’t What It Used To Be,
But Death Is Always The Same.
One Day There Won’t Be A Tomorrow.
Unless My Heart’s A Bomb,
Time Is An Illusion.
If Love Is Blind, The Sun Won’t Shine.
I Am Through Everyone’s Eyes, But Mine.
Though Time Is Just An Illusion,
For I Cannot ...
Friday 17th May 2019 6:47 am
Albino In The Snow,
Steaming Red, Left For Dead
And I’ll Wait To See If You Have A Soul.
Lost Her Glow.
Mouth Of Foam And Barely Grown
And I’ll Wait To See If You Have A Soul.
Painfully Numb’s Only Begun.
In A Few Days The Way Of One.
Crawling Towards The Heat,
Ants Inside Her Feet.
Feeling For Fire, Waiting On The Worms.
Dieing At Her Place Of Birth,
Selling Life For What It’s Worth,
Friday 17th May 2019 6:28 am
Pound shops and takeaways,
salons for grooming of
dogs and their owners
sit side by side.
Rancid fat acrid
in back alley junk piles,
settees and Christmas trees
in damp climate
for cotton mill workers
no longer needed.
The forest of chimneys
by new build in miniature,
room sizes shrinking,
Friday 22nd June 2018 5:36 am
My funeral is a live cremation
My home is a burnt out tower
My plight is that of a nation
One of selfish gits wielding power
I am a ghost haunting the streets
My home is your left or right wing tv show
My place is within the gentrification scheme
Lost somewhere I don't know
I raise my voice to be silenced
My concerns are shit on the heel of your shoe
There's money in death and violen...
Sunday 23rd July 2017 1:35 pm
You look at me through your new found fashionista,
Tell me that I am boring,
Why would you speak of the
Dull state of today?
Stars, planets, climates, people, love,
You perspire to the empty beat of a London club,
Held together with Hennes zip,
Peer through designer lenses,
Moulded to diamond encrusted frames,
Friday 2nd June 2017 3:46 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
Through inch thick glass at the airport circle
the traffic chocked us to a halt
the veiled shadow held her child to my window
Spittle covered its face
eyes as pale as a moonlit desert
we stared at each other
I said sorry without words
the child screamed “greed”
without any conscious effort
Frozen for the longest moment
in a silent air ...
Tuesday 1st March 2016 10:30 pm
From the lamplight of the factories, to the smoke and endless fumes
The workers toiled from dawn till dusk on ever spinning looms,
Ne'er did these places hear the sound of each bitter tear cried,
These were the places where some were born and just as many died. The workhouses and squats of Victoria's kingdom fare,
Never saw many smiles, although many memories formed there,
Tuesday 2nd September 2014 8:10 pm
The Government Standard
The band didn’t want to play,
They didn’t want to march
Through streets paved with
Gum and fag butts and poverty,
They didn’t want for glancing
At bloodstains from a
Previous night’s brawl,
They didn’t want for none of it
But as soon as the note
Struck, they knew their place,
Knew of nothing else
Sunday 18th May 2014 2:18 am
They’re Blaming Themselves
A couple argue over something trivial,
And the snarls - rants and discord
Reach fever pitch
They are left to part
Their own silent corner
Of a damp tired home,
And it’s a sad fact of life
That we argue at all,
But here in the deepest
Troughs of poverty,
The stress management can reach all
Sunday 27th October 2013 2:44 am
A silence fell upon the city,
contorted shadows twisting moonlight.
Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced
bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers
in an unforgiving wind.
The wretched odour of deprivation
a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.
Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap
and by night the vampires feast on thei...
Tuesday 9th April 2013 4:44 pm
the trickle down poetics
coiffed, varnished, double dipped,
lay waste the oubliette of empathy
no balm, no salve
shall expel the foreign body that
thorns it’s path in the digital red apnoea
of each choked fallen promise
as they steal your desecrated breath
your lips are still moving
your lips are still moving even
as your face turns blue...
Tuesday 8th January 2013 10:50 pm
Sunday 27th March 2011 2:03 am
You think poor is…
One car not two
semi, not detached
the right school
the wrong brand
the wrong label.
I think poor is…
thick enough to pick at
in shoes with holes
and stains that don’t
we know poor is…
the curl of a lip
in a hostile world,
of not fittin...
Saturday 29th January 2011 1:23 pm
I am a rebel against torture
I am a rebel against pain
I seek an end to hunger
I seek an end to the shame
The shame that comes from knowing
all those children dying without water
all those children dying without names
all those children dying from war
Why do men play their vicious games
why do those men pretend to serve God
when all they want is power over others
when all the...
Wednesday 11th August 2010 6:08 am
Black coal down the mineshaft so deep
Takes a pale sheen as my eyes do weep
Days without comfort are sending me down
The caged bird twitters but I still frown
Escape to the surface via cable or pills
The former brings succour, the latter masks ills
Sometimes my anguish calls the loudest of all
While strength I seek from a larder too small
Tuesday 21st July 2009 2:57 pm