Archive for September, 2011

The Glorious Has-Been Alliance

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 29, 2011 by dc

The true ally
Will probably be
Well-prepared
This calendar year.

Take heed my son
And stand in line.

Any real non-believer
Can decide to coat
Their colours
On masts.

Follow t-shirts
In the summertime,
The flap
Of postered doorways

And the winds
That cycle forever.

Stay in tune
With the pulse
Of a full moon,

And keep your shutters
Half closed like
The glorious
Has-been alliance.

We are safer
Now the laundry’s done,

And it hangs
In neutral shades.

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Tinned Meat

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 25, 2011 by dc

I would prefer
To thank you
For the efforts
You’ve created.

I am heading
For exactly the same
A-road junction
As you,

The traffic has died
And these aren’t bunkers
They’re ditches,

Our futures are calling.

There’s nothing
In the distance,

Times are changing

And
Your fanciful
Capabilities

Have prompted me
To change my life

Forever.

The Melting

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 24, 2011 by dc

A small tub
Of onions
In an empty
Front room.

The sound
Of seven geese,
Football rattles
And screaming.

We lost it all
In an instant,
And found it again
All perfect,

Apart from the melting.

The Wedding

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 18, 2011 by dc

The dark clouds parted
A hundred smiles brought the sun
The heavens stood strong,

Romance ushered joy
Sweet songs and poetry shone
And we were all one

All doubting days gone,
Love in excelsior.

Question In Style

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on September 5, 2011 by dc

This wet whistle,

This longing,

This hope I’ve been breeding
On park benches
And porch steps
 
Will keep me from
Violence.

Flat
Like boiled blood,
Feeding off silence,

Subsidence,
Compliance.

Too soon
Is the long gone,
Cracked pavements
And bruised feet,

The sandwich
At midnight
And whispers
Unique.

It’s 1970
On the stereo,

Defeat
Is a blessing,

A salad-less dressing,

Disguised
With a question

In style.