August Collage Poem: First Jobs

entry picture

 

Strangled thoughts inside and out,

Lost chances rust in lonely sidings.

 

Tailor driven across hope

buried deep under steelworks

strangled in lies

 

hope made of granite

and reinforced steel.

 

The tosser on the dance floor

Throw him into an IT grave.

Once you get used to something, your

imagination loses its mind, use your

imagination and look at something new.

 

My name is Mildred, a typo I will not feed

in-between has great importance.

She may well be shallow

but, you know,

she may very well be happy.

 

Love fails. Hope fails. Words remain.

Gloomy days awash with inspiration and purple poo.

 

collage poemPurple pooStockport WOL

◄ Alan Seeger

September Collage Poem: Merseyways ►

Comments

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Andy N

Fri 15th Aug 2014 12:41

made me smile guys. proud to have had a hand in this.

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dorinda macdowell

Fri 15th Aug 2014 09:47

To Mildred

My reference to you was not facetious,
Without a doubt my words not specious,
Eh Mildred but you were capricious.....

D
x

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Nigel Astell

Thu 14th Aug 2014 15:14

Washed Away

Mildred letters to her name
This collage poem it too
Joins up the alphabet jungle
Purple poo gets washed away
Sending wild poetic words astray.

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