Poetry Blog by Wolfgar
A disused children’s playground
the Carousel and Ferris Wheel,
where the seesaw’ed
when the peace thawed
Over there a shell hole
fifty meters from the breakfast buffet
The Al Deira Hotel fly’s freedom flags
but no castles in this sand today
The crippled body bent and cast
like a post-card from the edge
the broken promise clear at last
just another w...
Sunday 25th February 2018 3:12 pm
Saturday 24th February 2018 7:41 am
I saw a news report
it upset me so much
I mean so much
it upset me so much
You know what I did
I wrote a poem
I wrote a poem
I thought that’ll teach the bastards
Once they see our poetry
they’ll piss their pants
they’ll quake in their boots
they’ll stop dropping barrel bombs
Our wordy solidarity
will fortify their crippled souls
Tuesday 20th February 2018 8:45 pm
They fell from the city its confines rejected them like a virus,
yet still they lived, disembodied.
Forging to the seas they sailed,
ancient text and relics folded in palm and cortex.
Warmed by Sun then chilled by Winds,
living by stars and bread and wine, delivered from banishment.
As refugees they arrived silent at first, claiming their ground.
Sunday 18th February 2018 6:01 pm
A definition of sanity
might be choosing not to kill when presented the opportunity.
Bashir pushes my food across the plate,
he shows me the good meat and smiles a vagabond grin.
We bring him iPads and text books,
and he buys us lunch with coke and finds us shade.
He tells me of his family here for generations
forty years he worked for my flag, his land sti...
Thursday 15th February 2018 8:35 pm
Beneath the monied keyboard of the poet laureate
I push against the letter pads
in the hope that she’ll forget
the publishers and critics the feeders and the few
that manipulate her fingers that would punch what isn’t true
But truth is easy purchased in the shallow world of words
and even those of principle are prone to polish turds
her stubby little digits used to h...
Tuesday 13th February 2018 5:22 pm
An old poet slipped away the world didn’t stop
the breeze caught the curtains
I’m sure I felt his words waft in
they danced around the furniture and left
Half dreaming half remembering
an old mans paper thin skin
weathered and worn like luggage
carrying the traveller to who knows where
And now his rhyme is open ended
others will finish what he started
Sunday 11th February 2018 3:14 pm
I walked the Via Dolorosa slowly brushing passed pilgrims,
in front of me an Arab man dragged two tortoise in a plastic bread basket.
They clambered over each other unable to see the rise of the path,
neither knowing I am sure what they were or where they were heading.
At the Church of the Holy Sepulchre the man rested on stone steps,
lifting the creatures from the basket ...
Saturday 10th February 2018 4:05 pm
I come embattled to your gates
I am draped in blood and guilt,
your walls terrify me
Knowing that beyond lies deliverance.
A million souls of souls long dead
who journeyed this same path,
and now I almost crawl to you
my last breath drawn, my dagger thrust.
For now I stand here a naked man
my soul is bereft of faith,
I shake and cry in agony
Thursday 8th February 2018 8:32 pm
He found a stone in-between the fences
matted with blood and hair,
across the wire blackened canisters and rubber
which came from here but landed there.
There’s a fat old sloth slumped by the checkpoint
his weapon slung like a child’s toy,
he drags laboriously on filterless tips
and has no concern for a wounded boy.
From the tower, cameras scan the terrain...
Monday 5th February 2018 5:46 am
On my first night here the house bristles with life around me,
I listen to competing calls, whose unfamiliar tongues command.
Streets kid’s playing football, Manchester and Arsenal below The Mount,
The fragrant waft of Orange Groves, my senses overload.
A red sky wipes itself to black, Cross and Crescent bejewel the night,
feline skip invaders pick the flesh off lesser li...
Friday 2nd February 2018 4:31 pm
On this my last night here, the house settles still around me.
I listen to the street with its familiar hum,
the foot-fall of people I’ve never seen but know instinctively
as they pass then move along.
Silver shards of moonlight pierce the slatted blinds
my friendly wild eyed fox sits beneath the window,
does he hear me breathing? imagining his movement,
he skips an...
Thursday 1st February 2018 12:15 am