Poetry Blog by Wolfgar (2018)
That the poisoned become the poison
is all too often true,
their embrace pre-laced with toxin
their intention to imbue.
Subversively soft and gentle
oft with wit and guile,
they're the demons of invention
they'll skewer you with a smile.
They are innocent of malice
as they bathe you in their light,
there's salvation in ...
Saturday 29th December 2018 10:48 am
This time of year the beach is clear
at five o’clock the sky trails its skirt of drizzle,
the sea can barely roll itself to shore
as if when no-one is looking it takes a break.
The dog shits on the sand which is actually shit anyway,
people forget this and make us take the shit away,
but the beach is shit anyway.
A plastic bag containing dog shit now sits on my kitch...
Sunday 23rd December 2018 7:12 am
How much care for our nations sons
to toss them glibly toward the guns?
is that how love of country is measured
with sacrifice of blood most treasured?
To profess such pride in fields of stone,
and lay red wreaths at tombs unknown
how great might be that other path?
of Mothers Pride where children laugh.
And what of those who puff...
Friday 21st December 2018 7:17 pm
Show me three gift-less paupers and a shrouded starless night
vacant rooms and fears allayed a Royal beauty shining bright
a crown of thorns unpicked of brambles and a covenant of rights
our truth is marching on
Give them all stamped passports with passage calm and free
give them life-preservers on a milky charted flat-top sea
give them shoes...
Wednesday 19th December 2018 5:36 am
this is not alt-right and I am not a proponent of nationalism
Cedar boughs weigh heavy with rain
as if limbs of battle weary men,
still they stand unbowed they refrain,
awaiting the onslaught again.
Unwavering like nations in blood
reaching higher each drop that is shed,
for whatever be lost in the flood
comes rebirth in the roots...
Sunday 16th December 2018 1:26 pm
in the back of van
shit for brains
to clean his drains
full of bras
in his fucking cars
hate his fucking guts
still shaves his nuts
Monday 10th December 2018 11:56 pm
Monday 10th December 2018 6:36 pm
Put the leaves back on the trees,
grow the skin across the bone,
dream the words onto the page,
this land is but a scar regrown.
Grow the skin across the bone,
dream the words onto the page,
this land is but a scar regrown,
it feeds upon each bygone age.
Dream the words onto the page,
the ink is blood much bled before,
Saturday 8th December 2018 6:22 pm
Angels are best cast out
before that they are merely slaves
God in his fury frees them
and regrets it for the rest of days
I met one in Le Sacré-Cœur
she flew out of a frame
burned upon re-entry
she took refuge by the Seine
We ended up in Le Pigalle
in a club called Crazy Horse
she slid the pole so heavenly
Thursday 6th December 2018 3:02 pm
Through a solitary window one mile from the sea
the breeze blew a leaf the last from a tree
yet still it stood proudly unwavering true
defiantly stripped to remind me of you
of the battles you fought some lost and some won
and the lessons you taught to a waywardly son
that even when life takes us down to the bone
if you stand up for something your...
Sunday 2nd December 2018 10:47 pm