Archive for modern poetry

The Press Night

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 3, 2018 by dc

Well packed knick knacks,
Soundtrack playback,
Bushwhacked sad sacks,
Six-packed hunchbacks,
Prozac throwbacks,
Worn hacks get slack,

The room is filled with greed.

Pub snack hijack,
Smokestack feedback,
Jet-lagged ice packs,
Tick tack wisecracks,
Brain lacks comebacks,
Face smacked flashbacks

And loosened memories.


That Alaskan Stutter

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 30, 2018 by dc

That Alaskan stutter,
That neon gas station

Flickering light
Into the wilderness,

An illuminated trail,
Cars steaming at the roadside,

Seething dots
Freckled with frost.

That icy unravelling,
That single diner glowing

Like a dying match’s
Last flame,

That little curl of charcoal,
The smell of diesel

Wafting through the forest
As the branches chatter

The woodcutter’s lost dream,
Jagged tyre tracks and tears,

Circling buzzards
And screams.

The Empyrean

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 13, 2018 by dc

Fixed stars
Glimmer below the

Tubular rings of fire
Pivot above moons
Made entirely of gold,

Celestial blushes collide,
Burst chromas set free
With primordial kisses,

Round squares of light
Navigate their mapped chaos,
Every planet accounted for;

And from this sweet swelling void
Of the divine and unquestionable
A sacred arm stretches out,

Through the chemical fog,
Besieged by cursed logic
And spent with fatigue,

It flaps, it rotates,
It waves and then it’s gone,

For some there’s a meaning,
For others there’s none.

His Skies Swallow Clouds

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2018 by dc

These days his monstrous brain
Struggles to receive messages,

It’s all sibilance and static,
Frazzled in a hovering gloom,

His skies swallow clouds
With ravenous unease,

Delusions fizz and pop
Like old cocktail bubbles,

Sipping on cluttered ideas
And hiccupping farcical burps.

Snakes shimmy dry shuffled signs
On spent hallowed ground,

Sacred whirlpools drain
And disappear in confusion,

Eccentric digressions
Develop weeds and strange flora,

It’s all repetitious yips
And yaps that crack and hiss,

A full stop’s ink dilating,
Sliced fruit without the pips.

Frank’s Wednesdays

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 7, 2018 by dc

Shower, breakfast,
Inhale then exhale,

Ten times,

Get dressed,
Ascend into the vortex,

Plagiarise heartache,
Converse with God,

Assemble some shelving
And organise thoughts.

Leave the house by 7am,
Take one plastic bag,

Think about mother,
Relax, loosen tie,

Suck on a mint,
Whistle at wildlife,

Turn doubts into puddles
And kick them for fun.

The plan,

Offer advice to farmers
On market day,

Counsel strangers at stalls
And taste all the cheese,

Lecture lost children
On the best way to lie,

And whisper odd questions
To mothers on buses,

Teens sat on benches
And the post office crones.

Visit mother,
Keep it real,


Interaction and love
Can cure any ill.


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 30, 2018 by dc

An enormous black dog
Reincarnated as

An old typewriter
With too many keys,

Ink wounding the paper
When fingers attack,

Tired stories snarling,
Restless like trembling dust

Drifting on the edge
Of consciousness,

Straying past its borders
and into the deep wild of the backcountry,

Gripped by insomnia
And feral doubt,

Tuned to the calls
Of the dirt dusk ravens,

A taste in the air
Dry as bone.

It’s all wrong.


Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 27, 2018 by dc

An ebony night cuts
Through the horizon,

Shimmering like mislaid obsidian,

Resplendent above
The dark turquoise sea,

The light of a fading village
Glinting patterns across the waves,

A dance of languorous luminescence,
Golden disks in the shapes

Of octopuses and starfish,
Seahorses and Gods,

Primeval fables bubbling
Across a hundred generations,

Histories mapped in volcanic rock,
Every hill, every path, every stream

Venting ancient seismic groans

In the primitive dark,
All myth bent and low,

As Poseiden quietly piles
The beaches deep in sand once more

Invisible to all.