Poetry Blog by David R Mellor

We live by  the hands of others

Not seen by you or me

They pass the parcel

Stand at the till

Nurse the wounded

Or keep order

We live  by  the hands of others

Not seen by you or me

Our hands scrubbed clean and safe

But…

We  live by and are grateful to others

Who have to live day by day with that terrible fear

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746 (six fell in love more than four times)

673   (twenty had no regrets)

714   (five could still feel their first kiss)

643   (twenty-seven looked at photos of their loved one each morning)

547    (seven had contagious laughter)

517   (hundred regretted that their beauty had faded)

468   (thirty-five had worked in the same job all their lives)

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This mortal life

Seems thinner now

As we move away from

The old and sick relatives

Keep a safe distance

See everyone as a potential disease

This moral life

Seems thinner now

And in a darkened room, all alone

She sits tapping her fingers ,

Hoping the bell will ring

Or someone will call

Her mortal life

Thinner now

Passing away

All...

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and soon the bombs won’t fall
and soon the bombs will start again
and soon the child will sleep
and soon the child will not sleep again
and soon she will put her arms around her father
and soon she will lay him in the ground
and now the screams of agony from the child
echo back with no sound

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I am telling the crystal clear water
I am truly sorry…

If I’d have known
You were there
(waiting for me)

I would never have hurt
A speck of me

Instead I folded…
Under the city’s walls
Decaying streets
And people jampacked
With yesterday’s worries
And the future foreboding

If I had known…
I would be sitting with you, now

I would have waited,
Till the ripples of life
Brought me here...

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The sun coming through a murky window
might not seem like perfection to you …
it may be run of the mill

but to me it spells
no more returning to the cruelty of work
which soaked my skin with anxiety
no more dripping at the bus stop
and waiting …
to be sentenced to death
for not completing this or that form

The sun coming through a murky window
Is a blessing I never saw before
My eyes c...

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A Threadbare year
Still too hot to touch
Those that were poor
Remain so
Those full of hope
Chocked on feathers

Ballot Boxes
Full of X defeating Y

Why this thread of decency and kindness
Has become a dye
Faded like a hippy t shirt
Folded away neatly
To decay and die

Instead they are puffed up bloated
And the I I I and ‘we’ will make our country great again
No matter how many
Fall by...

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