Archive for short poem

Last Year’s Haircut

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 26, 2019 by dc

He leant in with last year’s haircut,
Kissed her digital image convincingly
And relaxed into his script;

Truth is he just mouthed things,
He didn’t even bother with stagecraft,
He just ruffled his hair and smiled,

There’s a simple truth in laziness,

Improvising shame and ruthlessness,
Unapologetic foolishness,
Stumbling around all ludicrous

In another person’s dream.

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Powder Blue

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 23, 2019 by dc

Light cracks
And the stars
Glimmer through,

Motion fizzles
And skips,
Morning wonders.

Peripheries catch
Stippled specs
Distant dancing,

Odd sounds
Elongate
And smear echoes,

Reality pops,
Delusions quiver,
Balance rocks.

In a fading
Corner of the room
Beliefs recede,

Worries tingle,
As insomnia hovers
Like a gull lost at sea,

Weary mantras retreat
In serenity’s
Stolen shadows

And the dawn whispers
Clues powder blue,
As the sky catches breath.

We’re Done Here

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on June 9, 2019 by dc

That incessant itch,

Photographs shredded,
Letters burnt,
A new start.

The blurring wounds,

Disappearing voices,
Stammered belief
And the cold sweats.

Those weeping assistants,

Incantations of innocence,
Body language coached
Two times a week,

And we’re done here.

That Excess Creosote

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 4, 2019 by dc

We’ve all seen
That excess creosote

Running down
Occasional fences,

All tears and humility,
Fortitude and regret,

And most of us
Have said

Bugger all about it.

Not me.

That Cackle

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 22, 2019 by dc

That cackle,
Musty and burnt
Like a sodden cigar
Crushed underfoot
Outside the Royal Legion,

A curdled cough,
Snarling down the street,
All shivered gutters,
Twisted, leaking engines
And monologues paused,

A chapped and cracked
Thumb of a man,
Rumbling threats
In a grumbling funk,
Endlessly stained.

Abrupt Blackout

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on April 19, 2019 by dc

When the bulb fizzles out,
The glass stays warm,

All hushed fascinations,
Inhalations,

Fresh dilations
And pfft.

A pivotal moment,
A popped sigh
Cocked askew,

A hovering suspense

With those brief
Tickled shivers,

And soft
Hissing whispers

Of unassigned types.

Generation Next

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 18, 2019 by dc

Just like the minor fools
Who thought so many things
Were achievable,

They sit twisted on the sofa,
Patiently waiting for
Pizza and enlightenment;

They’re avoiding the news
And just waiting for signs,
Or at least sublime substitutes

For all the heartburn
And the vague regret
That something could’ve been done,

Something won,
Were it not for that
Big blinding sun.