entry picture

1981, the year a blue stencil,

verso, gloss off-white,

unstuck blu-tacked, loose framed,

sun-curled image

your grin and your cow-lick,

and causal wear,

your ghost in my machine.

A bawling, squall, curtains

of hail and rain hang outside,

ladder, paint, spots and tans

and frayed carpet,

the dark, shaggy corner swamp,

where I found you, sideways-stacked,

cracked-pane, dust-smudged.


Your thin leer the bend of years,

your dark hair the colour of

night, videotape and the old Audi,

the pose has gone with fashion,

and smile with the soil; yet

the room vibrates with silence.

Not even the mantel clock,

can tick for your image embossed.


◄ Grow, Green Garden

Moon Haiku (or 'How Poets Can Pale Into Insignificance') ►


<Deleted User> (13762)

Wed 20th Sep 2017 09:20

excellent David, so much to read, reread and read into and your 'whatever' tag seems to add an extra dimension.

is it coincidence that The Police album Ghost in the Machine was released in 1981?

I desperately want to put a gap between that line and 'A bawling, squall, curtains' to make this into three verses.

agree with Tony especially 'Your thin leer the bend of years'. I like also the mental / physical dualism that's explored throughout.

thanks v.much for posting.

Tony Hill

Tue 19th Sep 2017 20:32

I really enjoyed reading this poem, David, and especially the imagery in the second stanza. Tony

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