Oh really, really?
This is clearly just my time to fall,
It’s not the first
And it won’t be the last time that I call
On you to set me straight
And talk until I see the light,
These darkened lanes won’t last forever,
They’re just holy frights.
Archive for November, 2009
A Fine Bromance
Posted in Poetry with tags british poet, british poetry, bromance, manchester poet, Manchester poetry, modern poetry, new poetry, poetry blog, poetry examples, UK poet on November 27, 2009 by dcWaxworks
Posted in Poetry with tags british poet, british poetry, celebrity, manchester poet, Manchester poetry, modern poetry, new poetry, poetry blog, poetry examples, UK poet, waxworks on November 26, 2009 by dcHer mouth
Tasted of
Shoe shops
And cheap
Cocktails,
He was
Nothing but
Sun ripened
Hair mousse
And bullshit,
Together
They captured
And
Enraptured
A nation.
Nature’s Mistakes
Posted in Poetry with tags british poet, british poetry, manchester culture, manchester poet, Manchester poetry, modern poetry, new poetry, poetry blog, poetry examples, short poem, UK poet, winter poem on November 21, 2009 by dcLike a winter tree
Straining for the sky,
Looking for signs
Of a returning sun.
You are days
From breaking,
Hours from creaking
and minutes from rainfall.
Oh, the mistakes.
The Puppet Drunk
Posted in Poetry with tags british poet, british poetry, manchester poet, Manchester poetry, modern poetry, new poetry, poetry blog, poetry examples, suburbia, UK poet on November 14, 2009 by dcThey said he was misunderstood,
Neglected and bruised,
A warrior falling through cracks in the pavement.
I saw nothing but a puffed up man
Filled with self love and anger,
An egoist dancing on hearts in the suburbs,
And the film was much better for that.
Someone Else’s Graffiti
Posted in Poetry with tags british poet, british poetry, dark poetry, manchester poet, Manchester poetry, modern poetry, new poetry, poems, poetry blog, poetry examples, short poem, UK poet on November 4, 2009 by dcShe had a face like a photo-fit
Or the kind you’d find on beer mats,
A grimace from a court sketch,
A frown all ridged and unwell.
She was someone else’s graffiti,
A stuttered chapel prayer,
A feeling something’s never right,
A dizzy, spinning moon.
Dunstan Carter : Poetry 