resolution

I don't do new year
there is a lot of noise here
none of it is mine

when the chimes kick in
auld lang syne hands are unlinked
as phones point skywards

cascading fireworks
fall on lost souls in doorways
where poverty lies

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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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Cronos (The Reaper)

I wait round corners where the air is still,
in darkened alleys wet with winter snow,
the places only fools and dreamers go.
You will not see me, but will feel my chill
on exposed places where the ice will spill
and with each prickle you will surely know
that, soon, the ancient blizzard wind will blow
and bring the reaper with it for the kill.
For I am called from so...

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Resolution #9

A cascade of sparks
exploding in the blackness
of a revellers sky
like bright tears.

Crying for the homeless
sat where the light
doesn’t fall,
under archways,
behind garages,
in cardboard boxes.

Damp and cold
while a flaming wheel
greets the crescent moon
as it circles.
A metaphor
of the turning year.

Out with the old and needy,
in with the bright young thin...

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