Archive for modern british poetry

Cooked

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on May 24, 2021 by dc

My roasted chicken rests,
As a war veteran four doors up
Falls down his stairs
And pops his collarbone alone.

The greens sigh steam in a sieve,
As a high school reunion
Turns into a fist fight
In the De Vere hotel beer garden.

A tabbouleh salad glistens,
And in the rain hit park nearby
A lost mandarin duckling wanders
Under an ice cream van to shelter.

Garlic roast potatoes crispen,
And a Renault Megane careers
Into a old man’s front garden,
Hissing steam across his water feature.

24 hours ago a freedom reigned,
Hope flapped like a flag,
Proud in the wind,
A sweet aroma filled the air,

Children sang made-up songs in the street,
The news stations were beacons of positivity,
The sun danced for 14 hours,
Nothing bad happened;

Then they fucked it all up.

There Are Ghosts Here Now

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 4, 2009 by dc

There are ghosts here now,
The sounds of phantom engines
Drawing up outside my home,
The smell of your skin on my linen,
Your reflection in the clock face,
Your love in all my tears.

Time was I knew what instinct meant,
Counting new birds in the sky
And resting on predictions
Of when I’d next see your smile,

But there are ghosts here now,
A hollow born from sorrow,
An amplified silence on weekends,
Something new in the wastes of this city,
The punches of inevitable endings,
Your outline all blurred in the distance.

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