View Of Stale Harbour.

A place becoming,

Under grey sky,

Wide and empty.

Closed.

 

Broken - decked boats

Hide

Behind massive branches

Of nearby trees

In twigged moonlight

 

A dog barks

           At the gate

           Chained in

Hungry for trespassers

 

Aquatic Hell

           Wounded hull

           Lapping slightly on the tide

           Leaking driftwood.

 

Generator of lost journeys

And found homes

Now a burden of scenery.

◄ Accident on Tonight's Street.

Quick Sequence. ►

Comments

Rachel Bond

Sun 7th Mar 2010 01:38

i agree with Tommy you have a sense of the past in all of your writing and your style fits the recognition of all those old books(the reason i like it so much)...but seeing as you would literally have to write the words 'this poem is about the sea' and id like it...i wouldnt let it go to your head ;)

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Tommy Carroll

Sun 27th Dec 2009 16:30

Kealan, vivid, a poem worthy of a passage from 'Bleak House' worthy of ANY of the 19th century classics. ''Hungry for trespassers'' especially delicious!

Tommy

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