Archive for poetry uk

Contorted

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on May 11, 2020 by dc

Piss wet and wild
In a heavy liquid
Called ‘Kill Yourself’,

Writhing in shiny silver briefs,

He arches his back
And contorts his body,

Sweat and blood shimmering
On his sinewy torso,

Wounds sealed with gaffer tape,

Crazy eyes framed
In smudged raccoon eyeliner,

A robotic wig of foil strips
Refracting the light.

The band heave out
Heavy drones behind him,
A rhythm that taunts,

Amps pipe the din
Of hurled beer bottles
Breaking against guitar strings,

Violence fingers glory
As mayhem daubs its tag

And spit flies;

They can hear this
All the way downtown,

He’s no longer a man,
He’s a chorus.

West Hollywood, Late 1972

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 9, 2020 by dc

His hair’s thick
Like the flap
Of corduroy flares,

The back of
A black llama’s neck,

A horse’s whipped tail
Or an old velvet drape.

His smile is an ache,
A chiselled curl,

The light patch
On a leather couch,

And the warm spot
In an old saloon
Slicing dusty sun.

His voice is an interruption,
A ramble torn wild,

Cogs twisted
And splintered,

Rattling rocks and rust,
Lubricated by
Whisky and rain,

Then fermented.

Not For All The Lager In Wrexham

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 7, 2020 by dc

I will not change my mind
On all the things that I hold dear,

Not for all the lager in Wrexham,

I’ve learnt from my lessons,

I trust and love without fear,

I’m not the flotsam and jetsam
Floating and rolling like tears,

Cluttering stuttered emotions
Year after cyclical year,

Nearing nothing
But that that same old park bench,

Head stooped,

Muscles clenched;

I fizz when I need to
And keep my thirst quenched.

Those Wandering Mammals

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on April 13, 2020 by dc

Those wandering mammals
That romanced around fire,
Drew past adventures on walls
And ate what they killed,

Thought the moon
Was the sun at rest
And the night sky
Was a huge sliding wall
Shuffling stars
Every time it sensed sleep;

They followed patterns
In the hope that danger
Would bow to their routines
And offer up rainfall and warmth,

They looked at new birds
Like startled deer
Caught between safety
And the sudden unknown,
They licked plants before picking
And shat into holes;

They rarely found joy
And lived their lives scared,
Hope was random and basic,
Love was merely protection,
Joy was simply survival and
Tears were the sea’s sour echoes,

Insects buzzed eternal,
Mountains joined the sky,
And their rivers never ended
When the world was built on why.

That Déjà Vu Residue

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on February 29, 2020 by dc

No one knows,

No one cares,

No one’s underneath your stairs

And no one’s in your kitchen either,

It’s time you took a breather;

It’s time to take things down

A notch or two,

It’s time to wipe away

That déjà vu residue.

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.

Asleep On Shiva’s Forehead

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on February 16, 2020 by dc

A half-finished
Glass of Rioja
And the remains of
Some crackers,

A creased book
On ‘Gods’,

The lines scatter
Then fade,

Just a single thought pops,

There are no temples
Free from snakes
In the netherworld.

Lost in calm around this time,

In the sweet post-dinner lull,

His head lolls,
Bobbing for apples,

Sat in his cloud,
Above his crumb chested kingdom,

Ten minutes ridding evil,
A slouched enlightenment
Unfurled,

Dozing but gently wired
To all movements,

His relaxed collapse
Is in touch with the room,

The news drifts a whisper,
He groans,

A voice calls him,
He burbles;

Half-deaf and humming transmissions,
He uses his whole body as an ear,

Before mumbling out
One last rummaged thought,

The snakes were always there.