Poetry Blog by simon williams

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Patricio LG on Poem for Margaret Thatcher (Wed, 28 Feb 2018 11:06 am)

STI

In the bar he gravitated toward

Her infectious laughter

Sadly some time later

He discovered it wasn't the only thing

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Poem for Margaret Thatcher

I never really believed

In heaven and hell

But since you died

I can't pass a bar b q

Without thinking of you

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Joy

The house echoed with laughter
But the echoes grew fainter
With each passing year
Because when she
Left she took
The joy
With
Her

 

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Human resources

In the excessively vertical

Corporate structure

Of the modern world

Too many senior managers

Are a waste of human resources

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Recount

You say that in

A snap election

I lost my seat

In your heart

Desperately

I demand a recount

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Spring

Must be spring he said

Laying a warm hand

Upon her thigh

Sap's rising

We'll have none of that nonsense

She replied

Frostily

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Sunday evening

Sunday evening like

An old cardigan

Comfortable but

Slowly unravelling

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Stars fade in

The sun dips her face

Below the horizon as

The first stars fade in

Like Omar Sharif in

Lawrence of Arabia

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Snow

Ragged snowflakes

Drift lazily down

Like pages torn

From the cold love letters

Of a Faerie Queen

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Leisure Park

The leisure park has been

Surrendered to death

Corpses in the cinema seats and

Facedown in the ballpool

Of the Wacky Warehouse

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Gunsmoke

Young couple at the bus stop

Harsh words hang in the air

Like gunsmoke

Making their eyes water

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Intuition

Intuition told her

He’d be trouble

But her libido

Had his fingers

In her ears

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Scarf

Morning wears a scarf

Of Crimson and burnt orange

Draped carelessly

Around the horizon

Ineffective against

A penetrating cold

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Thirsty

You were thirsty so

I offered you

My cupped hands

Full of moonlight

You drank laughing

And

Your eyes filled with stars

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Victory parade

A small boy in ragged school uniform

Hopping excited and unsteady

On the warped asphalt

Clutching his mother’s hand and

Waving a dirty plastic flag

The rest of his mother

Is nowhere to be seen

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Taste

Your taste lingers

On my tongue like

The last golden rays

of an autumn sunset

Warm and sweet

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Crown of stars (haiku)

Jewelling your hair

The rain looks like stars and you

Suit a crown of stars

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Cold reckoning

The mathematics of divorce

after the love has died

it's all subtraction

and long division

a cold reckoning

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Sheets

The sheets are quite

Disgusting now but

I can't change them

While I think they still

Smell (faintly) of you

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Motley

Trying to please you

was a fools errand

but I always thought

motley suited me

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Funeral hat (tanka)

Small funeral hat

Perched nervously on her head

Crows wing of black lace

Obscuring most of her face

Small pointed chin quivering

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Dragon

There are few things sadder

Than an old dragon whose

Fire has gone out but

Whose dreams still burn

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In the autumn of the month

In the autumn

Of the month

The money tree

Bears little fruit

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School run mum (tanka)

Plump middle aged Mum

In slippers and pyjamas

Long grey cardigan

Blue hair like Disney seaweed

Walking her children to school

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Mirror (haiku)

Old mirror whispers

I used to be beautiful

Sighs reflectively

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Broken umbrella (haiku)

Broken umbrella

Trapped beneath a briar hedge

Like a crippled bird

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Norwegian Blue

It used to be

When you reached out for me

I could feel my heart

Pull toward you

It's now sadly true

Like the Norwegian Blue

It is pining

For the fjords

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Cheltenham Festival (tanka)

The thunder of hooves

And tidal roar of the crowds

Bookies bark like seals

Silent pickpockets going

Deftly about their business

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Laundry

Words cannot express

The almost tactile sadness

Of folding her clothes

For the last time

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