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Jubilee

Jubilee

 

A step across the great divide

From this side to the other side

A cautious step, a careful stride

Centuries long and twice as wide.

 

Carefully place your stumbling feet

There’s caterpillars in the street

ghost butterflies with ‘nowt to eat

a life to live and death to cheat

 

TV screens in shop windows

Relay the parties and the woes

Resentment in...

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Jimmy Is A Ghost

Jimmy Is A Ghost

 

Jimmy is a ghost

Of the man he used to be

He sits in the rain

Drinking second hand tea

And he hopes that his kids

Will never have to see

His hands outstretched

In an ignored plea

Yeah Jimmy is a ghost

 

Jimmy is a ghost

Off of Oxford Street

He has nothing left to barter

He has nothing left to eat

Just threadbare dreams

And train...

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NaPoWriMo 2019day 26repetitionhomelessnessghosttragedywe shall overcome

Bag Of Bones

Bag Of Bones

 

Please let me introduce myself -

my name is Billy Jones.

You might know me better

as that useless bag of bones

that gets under your feet

when you’re staring at your phones,

planning all your creature comforts

on extortionate pay day loans.

Well I was once like you my friend,

I haven’t always been alone

huddled up in corners

where the autumn lea...

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despairhomelessnessrichpixwe shall overcome

Forsaking Auld Lang Syne

Forsaking Auld Lang Syne

 

The city centre puddles

reflect fireworks in the sky

whilst stripped

Christmas wrapping paper

soaks up the deluge

like a homeless sleeping bag.

 

Dustbins overflow with leftovers

oiled with greasy greed.

 

A bottle of wine splatters against

the multi-storey car park wall,

vomited from the throat

of opulence at midnight.

 

...

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This Is England

This Is England

 

the empty cardboard

coffee cup groans with hunger

eyes to eyes to anything

that isn’t eyes

clothes that itch with dirt

the taste of yesterdays soup

settles against teeth

 

sleep is the enemy

dulling your hopes of escape

if the spiteful arrive

with mean intentions

and brown leather boots

 

head bowed against the world

not looking ...

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homelesshomeless violencehomelessnesslife on streetdespair

Arroyo

Arroyo

The rain has fallen down for twenty hours
from a dead sky of slate and granite hews,
dampening the walls of urban towers.

Cobbled streets the colour of an old bruise,
tyres rattle over pothole dark drains,
counterpoint to some distant splashing shoes.

The day cast in monochromatic stains
as water forms itself into a lake
that eddies into inner city lanes.

A passing car cre...

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