Poetry Blog by David Blake

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Recent Comments

Robert Haigh on Dream Triptych (12 days ago)

Greg Freeman on In Caves (Fri, 21 Aug 2020 11:07 pm)

Paul Sayer on Antigenesis (Sat, 25 Jul 2020 12:04 am)

Paul Sayer on FAO (Fri, 24 Jul 2020 11:41 pm)

Nicola Beckett on Scrap Philosophy (Sun, 5 Jul 2020 04:17 am)

Adam Rabinowitz on Green Shadows (Mon, 5 Aug 2019 02:16 am)

Martin Elder on Silhouettes (Tue, 18 Jun 2019 09:04 am)

jennifer Malden on Green Shadows (Sun, 26 May 2019 08:28 pm)

Stu Buck on Green Shadows (Fri, 24 May 2019 08:06 pm)

Rose Casserley on Green Shadows (Fri, 24 May 2019 01:41 pm)

Dream Triptych

entry picture

I - Trains

I pass the Sunday gardens,

keeping vigil by narrow factory aisle,

summoning auburn sky and smoke-salt;

then trace the river to its end

to wait, empty-handed on pebbled beach.

The blue sky rips, wallpaper,

with trumpets and cymbals, and bodies

bullet-sped 'cross countless arches.

There I am with you,

the outside world a postbox slit, as

we brace the walls


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I  commenced battle

and ended it swiftly

complicit in love's long game.

Rows of cups and saucers

and chipped face of cheese-board

dropped-heavy; the sink a salad bowl

of porcelain bones crunched

crazed; fuzz-hard green wires

absorbing like a forest roof.


I've hollowed out this morning

with a pen knife, stuck a wad

of shut-eye and shame

inside with the smell...

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In Caves

Sixteen years ago this week the Boscastle flood occurred. The two villages of Boscastle and Crackington Haven in Cornwall suffered extensive damage after flash floods caused by an exceptional amount of rain that fell over eight hours on the afternoon of Monday 16 August 2004.The flood in Boscastle was filmed and extensively reported but the floods in Crackington Haven and Rocky Valley were not men...

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entry picture


that you didn't get

to see me,

hidden in my outzise

paper-board ink


and dripping entrails

on your dress


Maybe the melody

we sought to wove

was always supposed

to end in knots

and I'd go crawling over

the checkerboards

lifting and putting down

the bricks you threw

each engraved

with its own symbol,

'FAO', for the suit outside


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Scrap Philosophy

entry picture

Hate is for the jilted,

no-go refunds

and markets saturated with remembrance.

I'd like to pick tulips

and prise up weekends for play,

we'll scream

down corridors and

is that not enough?


Dreading penance I don't want

rain days, just candles

and cars, the road

and space

to dream and walk.


When I fall too far

you call me back

and I'll open the le...

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