Poetry Blogs (2016, violence)
LEON STOLGARD on On seeing a photo of an old friend now stricken with ALS - for Laura (32 minutes ago)
I loved you like I loved storms. I was fascinated by every strike of lightning and each gust of wind, the sheer power of it, the wind I mistook for passion and the ferocity I believed was simply something to pass with the movement of clouds.
Little did I know the damage caused to my being every second I caught myself standing in its wake.
I loved you far more than you deserved. I loved you a...
Monday 12th August 2019 5:53 am
Angry confused divided and misdirected
With morality low and aggressiveness high
Shallow and impulsive realms of perspective
Violence and crime progressively worsening
The streets set the scene for these men to rehearse in
Society eludes a self destructive way of life
& some young men savagely taken by the pierce of a knife
Where art thou compassion, you’ve lost your empa...
Thursday 24th May 2018 10:30 am
Here we go again with this abuse
you slap me down you say i'm yours to use
you also result to hitting me
taking advantage of my generosity
then you pretend you done nothing at all
When it's time to explain the bruises i'l say "I had a fall"
what do you want me to do ?
Pretend to care about you...
Guess what i don't love you anymore
you're rotten to the core
you dont m...
Sunday 18th February 2018 7:32 pm
Your skin like the yellow brick road,
and what is it that creates that rush of blush?
I’d love to shovel out your flesh or drill through your cheeks
to reach those autumn leaves,
that grow behind the golden weeds,
the red leaves that were never green.
No, never new, they never grew,
they stayed and they remained:
Dying, but never dead,
thriving, behind your face of ...
Friday 31st March 2017 3:47 pm
So I was standing at the bar
not paying due attention, drinking double Jameson's
for my happiness extension.
I see the bar-girl fix on me
with sadness in her eyes, scared of someone close to her,
she's shrinking deep inside.
And there the owner was
stood watching just behind, sneering Billy Tawdry,
he’s the handy nasty kind.
Then I see it clear as da...
Friday 10th March 2017 7:48 am
Listen to me,
I know what you’re thinking,
“Great another poem,
Are we done yet?”
But listen to me.
You have a voice,
Well, use it.
Because unlike you,
But listen to me,
I don't know what you’re going through
And I can't tell your story,
Only you can.
So listen to me.
I want you to look around.
You are in a room with...
Friday 30th September 2016 8:18 pm
Bullets go through his head
As he falls through the bloody sand
Bombs drop on peaceful homes
While little children play their games
Animals rip each other apart
To quell the bloodthirst of men
Women are beaten black and blue
Until their self-importance is no more
Teenagers play dodgeball with guns
Using their classmates as targets
Little girls disappear with...
Tuesday 9th August 2016 5:49 am
Switch off the TV’s
Cover their ears
Wrap them in cotton wool
Drink all their tears
Drown them in fairy tales
Sing them sweet songs
Take them to places
The bad don’t belong
Bathe them in sunshine
Shower them with love
Serve them their childhood
Wearing kid gloves.
Thursday 24th March 2016 3:07 pm
Idly walking my imaginary dog
on the wiley windy moor,
listening out for Cathy calling,
a game I’d played before.
my head engulfed in thought,
I didn't see the kneeling wench.
my fist she caught.
Into the heath she backward fell
out cold as cold could be,
my dog attracted by a smell
mistook her for a tree.
Thursday 28th January 2016 7:12 am
I heard 'King Arthur' on the 'mike'
In a place that they called Orgreave
Fronting Miners out on strike
Urging them all to 'Believe'
He told them it was "Coal not Dole"
Said Thatcher was a clown
And every Miner has a role
To take the Tories down
From Notts. and Derby and the Met
Cleveland, Avon and Somerset
After their luncheons
Drew their truncheons
Friday 12th June 2015 1:38 pm
Trisha M. Hopkins
Waiting for him, sitting in the car
Under the erie moonlight
Imagening what he'll do
Seing him in the distance, Seeing him in the night
His mind shouting "I'm going to get you!"
He sees himself going after the man
He sees himself dragging him, dragging, dragging
Tying the man up
Everything is so dim
Under the erie moonlight
Torching him almos...
Monday 9th February 2015 12:23 am
Peace is the true path of sanity,
Violence is surely born of vanity,
the vain believe that they deserve more,
the sane know that’s a danger for sure,
as only when we share in all that we do,
can anything belong securely to you…
Peace comes from being alert to the needs,
of all in the world be it for clean water or seeds,
we know there’s more than enough food wasted,
that could be shared...
Wednesday 4th February 2015 2:12 pm
Aggression seeps from jaundiced bones.
IS kills too many crouching in their homes
Al Queda murdered thousands in Twin Towers
the result of all those deaths is sobbing showers
the rain of tears could form a salty river to clean
out all the evil that shattered so many a dream
and in the end those fighters only ever produce
a waste of life and resources with rage on the loose…
Wake up you d...
Wednesday 4th February 2015 2:10 pm
I never feel amiss, alone or as a stranger
On days when wandering amongst the trees,
When standing on the hilltop overlooking land of bountiful existence
Or looking at the life’s reflections in blue waters of the sea.
I never know rage, hate or urge of violence
At twilight times when rolling in the silky grass,
When sitting on the tree log by the brook watching appearance of...
Friday 3rd October 2014 10:31 am
Very Nasty Builder
Drunk builder is out for trouble.
Like a soldier with a grudge and a loaded rifle. ...
Saturday 1st February 2014 1:05 am
I prove myself favoured in comedy,
Not even consciously,
Aside from my own wit
There is a clown of a protégé,
Someone for those to howl at,
Someone to grin at
As they pass my ill gait
Walking streets no longer caring,
And I will never forgive
Never forgive the worst
‘They’ made of me!
My guess is, ...
Friday 31st January 2014 1:48 am
Life in the city starts at ten
With tanked up teenagers acting like men
Ladettes in skimpy skirts are all dolled up
Falling around in the road, having had too much to sup
The clubs are bustling, dance music rings out
The bouncers evict a fella acting like a lout
In the bars the booze flows like an industrial machine
And shouting and raucous laughter becomes par...
Thursday 19th September 2013 7:29 am
I look at you
You don’t look back
You can’t hear what I’m saying
Blinkered, you start to backtrack
Into your world of playthings
I wish you’d join me
You never know what you might see.
A thousand fountains – a million forms of ecstasy
A trillion ways to make your brain cells dance
But you won’t even try, your pupils are too blind
I’ll speak to...
Friday 30th August 2013 1:46 pm
keen to make use of all the wonderful features on this site. so am attempting to load an audio recording i did a few years ago as part of a performance piece of poems put to music. if it works ok i may post a few more further down the line. influenced by john cooper clark, roger mcgough and patrik fitzgerald - maybe leans a little too much towards the music to be a 'real' poem (?)
Monday 11th February 2013 7:09 pm
C’mon lads – equal opportunities, join up for your country,
we need you to do your service. Meat grinder of death needs oiling
with your body fat and intestines.
You’ll get a medal for your success, tell your grandchildren
of your valour and heroism.
I want your blood to flow down the street,
turn it red, slippery like myself.
Tuesday 11th October 2011 2:25 pm
Do you want to renounce violence against other people on a personal scale and on an international level, where countries are bombed and shelled? This isn’t good, people are injured and die. Think what happens if I hit someone and kill him with one punch, this does happen. If a mortar falls and kills a dozen people in a busy market place.
What does it solve? Each person has a relative ...
Friday 12th August 2011 11:36 pm
Boot blood tastes the worst.
It’s like licking pure metal ore
from a hole in the ground.
We got him home, took off
his sodden shirt and had to peel, slowly
each sock from his engorged
and pulsing feet.
By the way, this wasn’t
the follow-up to a tragic night.
There’d been fun, twiglets
in bowls at one point,
and gentle fondling
of some ...
Tuesday 19th October 2010 6:02 am
In the weather
there’s a pressure
street lights flicker
morse code to litter.
On the high street there’s a violent sight
sirens wailing in the night
grab a kebab of spinning meat
right outside there's a nasty scene
shouting, spitting, being sick
"oi tart show us your tits!"
lurching man with kebab in hand
leaves salad trails across the land.
Evolution’s put to test
Wednesday 7th July 2010 10:27 am