Redundant

by Malpoet

Friday 13th February 2009 12:19 pm (first posted Thursday 29th January 2009 10:22 pm)

Tear stained,

mould grained

grey, green walls.

Too small for one,

but foetid cage

for three.

Cloud high flat

a piss stink lift

from ground.

Back soon

Fifty yards of

fresh clean air,

fags or maybe bread.

Past the shabby,

shuttered shop

the city centre calls.

Not long

Cash for one pint,

a walk and think..

Hitched rides then

shivered, shelter sleeps.

Growling guts

from bin grabbed

food. Stinking,

sweat soaked skin,

no walls.

Just a break

Green fields,

gold beach

and soul,

sought sea.

Beauty more than

can be said,

Beachy Head.

Comments

Noetic-fret!

Fri 13th Feb 2009 13:23

Fantastic. The city a bit rough these days. Those that dwell within more than often is not long for the hints of better places. This one genius.
Mike

Malpoet

Fri 30th Jan 2009 11:51

Thanks Gus

Yes. A mighty and beautiful wall of chalk being the liberation from confining walls of mould. Maybe too poetic for such tragedy, but you can see the draw of the place.

Gus Jonsson

Fri 30th Jan 2009 11:17

Morning Mal
Totally knocked out with your poem... very strong imagery...felt like having a hot shower and a bowl of soup after reading it!....Small wonder they use Beachy head for the final leap

Gus

Malpoet

Fri 30th Jan 2009 10:10

Thanks guys

For a long time I have been preoccuppied with the way people sometimes do awful things under pressure without intending to do them. In this case it is a short walk to the shop that turns into an inability to return, but there could be many other outcomes from an unlimited range of pressures.

Helen Thomas

Fri 30th Jan 2009 02:44

I agree; the last three lines are very powerful.
The despair of the first two stanzas put me in mind of the song 'The Beaten Generation' by my favourite band 'The The'.

winston plowes

Fri 30th Jan 2009 00:01

Hi There,
This is a powerful poem for me. Few words on each line but a strong image on almost all of these brief lines. The rhym at the very end drove the message home.
Winston

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