Archive for modern poetry

All Of A Quiver

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on February 20, 2020 by dc

There’s a tiny muscle
In my right thigh
Twitching,

It wants to take
The whole leg
With it,

Like a cult leader
Humming his mantra,

Wild eyed,
All of a quiver,

A politician
Electioneering,

An outstretched hand
Of frenzied hope,

A budding influencer,
A distraction,

Another flashlight
In the dark,

A spark that
Dreams of flames,

I sing and then
Pfft.

The Lick

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on January 25, 2020 by dc

In the garden
Where the singing starts,

Sipping ginger gin
From a porcelain tea cup,

Talking to the weekend,

Soaking it up.

Blue tits dance
On the graves of dead pets,
Chirping skits like broken toys,

Noises drift then collect,

The chattering mayhem
Of scattershot school kids,

The curdled melody
Of a downbeat ice cream van
Trundling into Autumn,

And the cliched repertoires
Of the local cranks and toddlers

Assemble to swoop then ferment;

There are bats as dusk leaks,
The air is ripe with mischief,

I was nothing when I came here,
Now the lick is bittersweet.

A Coded Song

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 19, 2020 by dc

Huddled tight,
Then star shaped,

A muddled murmur
From the bird’s nest,

A coded song;

I roll back and settle,

A hot breath
Of thankfulness

Amidst the shifts
Of contentment and zeal,

The warm pop
Of a softened nebula,

A regular melody pulsating
Lightly and lustrous,

I drift off and gleam.

Tickled

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 18, 2020 by dc

It slinks across the viaduct,
An index finger
Caressing the shoulders,

A tram’s trimmed shadow
And the window framed
Quiver of a cityscape,

A lamp light dawn,
A siskin flutters,
A golden coin turned sepia,

The countryside rolls,
The field mice scurry,
A giggle echoes, arches quake,

And then the world stands still.

Clues

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on January 2, 2020 by dc

Watch as clarity melts
In the ballads of the sighing,

In these gossamer reflections
Brewed up in reveries,

Voices lost to empty space,
Opalescent shimmers,

Like translucent winter breaths
Or phosphorescence in a swamp,

Milking frequencies
From thin air,

Off-white in the sky,
Blinking as clouds drift,

Pocked with cavernous holes,
Letting murmurs breathe,

The sounds of old trains
Creaking to life and the hum
Of a village now lost,

Simple loops and routines
Transmuted into wistful nostalgia,

Winter ghosts weaving
Their tales through the trees,

A knowing light
As the dusk shuffles in,

Fragile pleasures
Warm as clues to the ear.

December 2019

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 1, 2020 by dc

We watched the truth
Get twisted and contorted
Like sausage-shaped balloons,

A clown in the middle
Of a malformed circle,
Huffing and puffing,

Bending and stretching
A huge sack of facts

Until they reappeared
As small, lumpy mammals,

Floating and squeeking out
Rubbery mantras,

Just a single pin prick
Away from disaster.

That Pen

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on December 28, 2019 by dc

Trapped on a chair,

Staring at a square of nothing,

That pen you keep
Is the spark of madness,

The dust on your sideboard
An abstract plain where

The white takes to shapes
And the shapes turn to colours,

The quiet of night coalescing
In the back of your mind

As ideas run wet
And feed rivers –

How it works doesn’t matter
As much as the need that it must;

Voices and patterns,
Swaying and cooing,

Twisted stories and songs,
Fragile glory and hope,

A golden scatter unmined
As rhymes hook and bend,

Swathes of rich trickery
And hues shone electric,

An abundance all slathered,
Ripe and alive.