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In Infamy

Yesterday, a day which now, will live amongst us for all time,
For history has changed its path
And we must fall in line.
For we at peace, with guarded arms, we chose to watch this from afar,
But we, deliberately attacked,
Must no more stand apart.

An Emperor, through wicked lies, convinced us of continued peace,
But sickening deceit was this,
As they slipped underneath.
For yesterday ...

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pearl harbourpearl harborwaramericapoempoetry

Poem for Nelson Mandela.

I expect everybody’s read enough Nelson Mandela poems by now,  but here’s mine anyway...

 

“What’s it got to do with us?”  refrained
my father when his boys
spurned the bottle of Cape Red plonk
he’d serve with Sunday roast.  Despite how it stained,
he’d never grasp our umbrage at his choice,
but Nelson’s cell was like a sunken rock
to which our teenage optimism was chained.

There se...

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Nelson MandelapoemApartheid

Kennedy

Around the shadowed corner, wicked lies,
Through telescopic lens and focussed eyes.
The autumn trees encapsulate the path
And crunch beneath the wheels they idolise.

The building crowds descend before the knoll
To catch a glimpse of this passing idol.
He, showered from all sides with the applause
And peppered from above by seasons fall.

Idyllic is this scene to which he greets,
As smi...

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americaassassinationJohn F kennedymurderonassispoempoetry

Retribution (From My Beautiful Lie)

(This poem is the second part to my previous poem 'My Beautiful Lie' http://www.writeoutloud.net/public/blogentry.php?blogentryid=36793)

 

The lie I created I hid far behind,
Blind - vacuous and vapid, my rapid descent
Into madness was sealed, with gladness
The concealed face of my own lot was lost
And the cost of this deception was total,
Brutal at the very point of inception...

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failurefallenliepoemretribution

Forever Let This Place Here Be

Forever let this place here be
A warning to humanity,
A cry of despair, suffering;
Death in total, unrelenting.
Forever let its soil be bare,
For life shall grow not anywhere,
This place, a scar upon the face
Of mans wickedness, mans disgrace.

Forever let this place here stand
As evidence of evil planned,
A barren wasteland, void of hope,
Where many left in clouds of sm...

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AuschwitzDeathHistoryHolocaustHumanityPoemTreblinka

Purpose

She, born of the forge and cast from the pyre,
The fire of her birth soon vanished to iron,
Cold and lifeless, but still with a purpose
And then, from the worthless womb of coals
She falls.

Her sisters, countless in their tumble
Collide and stumble to the four corners
Of the earth.  Rapidly consumed
Exhumed for a thousand years
Or perhaps two…

Here she, in the wood of ...

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Purposecreationdeathpunishmentinnocentpoem

Hitman

I dial him up,
An unlisted number, of course
But easy enough to find
When you know where to look.
He speaks low, and slow,
I tell him what he needs to know,
No more. Not too much.
He books me in. Half-four.
Simple stuff - a time, a place, the door,
The colour, the number, the floor outside.
Then the target, to mark it,
Rough age, hair colour?
Height, weight, creed?
But...

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assassinhitmanmurderpoem

From Beyond a Dream

The ballet dancers swim outside my doors,
And pluck at scarlet fruits behind my eyes;
They pirouette in seven’s, eight’s and nine’s
Then drown in reddened lakes in twenty-four’s.
Their sodden tutu’s, drink them up through straws
And on their bloated bodies, here, do dine -
They make the most delicious cherry wine
So do not think their death was without cause!

Then from their shelled rema...

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dreamfantasylucidnightmarepoem

In Limbo

She’s lost here somewhere,
Lost in limbo,
In these dark woods
Where we dare not go.
But I must find her
And bring her home.
She doesn’t belong here
Amongst the ravenous crows.

The moonlight spears
Like shards of blue glass
Through the thick canopy,
Piercing the black grass.
The trees block me
But I have a promise to keep
And I’ll push on through;
Miles to go bef...

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fearhopelimbolostlovepoemsearchingsuicidewoods

September Sisters

Twin sisters, both alike in majesty,
In New Manhattan, where we set this scene,
From arid lands flocks an old enemy,
To scorch the earth of this, a western dream.

From fateful skies the fatal flights descend,
But none the wiser to their pending fate,
The man and child, to happy affairs tend,
Their future sealed beneath a veil of hate.

Through vacant city clouds, their path...

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9/11americadeathpoempoetryseptember 11terrorism

She, Mourning

She pressed her hand against the marble, felt its words,
Ran her weathered finger through the crafted names.
Many faces that had long since adventured,
Left for others lingering to bear the pain.

The autumn sun caressed its face and warmed the stone,
She drew it through her skin and let it stay a while.
Her silver head was bowed, her company her own,
To spend a few more moments...

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deathlossLovemothermourningpoempoetrysoldier

The One I Love- 15 word poem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Look into

my eyes.

 

The sparkle

you see

in them

is my

love for you.

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lovepoemshort poem

Devil

Beware the shadow by the corner dark,
For there he waits for seven reasons sour,
His wicked tongue hath limitless remark,
Whilst therein seeking whom he may devour.

Be sober and be vigilant thy kin,
Thy adversary waits beneath the pyre,
Then walks about as proud as the lion,
To drag thy wayward souls towards the fire.

 

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evilgoodgodsatansinfaithreligiondevilpoem

He saw a hooded figure

So the trees are no longer decorated with strange southern fruits
But Trayvon Martin still gets no justice when Zimmerman shoots.
The latter claimed he had the right to simply stand his ground
But first, against police advice, he followed young Trayvon around
Trying to decide, I guess, if the teenager really posed a threat.
But judging by what Trayvon was packing, he was a wrong as wr...

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Trayvon Martinmurderjusticepoem

Neon Light

The cigarette smoke hangs heavy in the air.

Looks good in films

But in real life,

In this place it clings to you

Like a broken dream.

 

The neon beer light covers many sins

And many more failed lives.

In the corner sits a man,

Pondering if tonight

Will be his last.

Time for one more drink.

 

He won’t be the last to sit under this neon light.

...

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poemlifedeathfree versepoetry

Neon Light

Playing with the idea of this place.Aplace which takes in lost souls..Is it a good place or bad place.

Time will tell.

 

The cigarette smoke hangs heavy in the air.

Looks good in films

But in real life,

In this place it clings to you

Like a broken dream.

 

The neon beer light covers many sins

And many more failed lives.

In the corner sits a man,

P...

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poemlifedeathsmokepoetryfree verse

Come Me Hither I, to Die

Good people of this Christian land,
Here before you now I stand
And come me hither I, to die,
For by the law condemned am I,
And not a word in protest muttered,
Let not a ‘treachery’ be uttered,
These lands demand my soul depart,
By pain of death and muted heart.

For at thy King’s pleasure, ‘tis true,
I soon, to take my leave of you,
I pass not blame, nor beg for life,
...

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Executionroyaltykingdeathpoem

At the Beat of a Drum

At the beat of a drum,
The world changed,
Blamed on many,
Caused by few.

At the still of a heart,
The world stopped,
Spun by many,
Ceased by two.

At the loss of a soul,
The world cried,
Tears of many,
All for you.

 

Dedicated to the family and memory of Drummer Lee Rigby, born July 1987, senslessly taken from the world, 22nd May 2013

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soldiersadnesslossdeathpoem

Don't

 

Don't
 
Bite, fight, pick your nose, destroy the garden, tear your clothes,
pout, shout, spit your greens, scare your nana, cause a scene,
sick, kick, wet your pants, play with mud, set fire to ants,
smoke, toke, stay out late, upset police, go on blind dates,
worry, hurry, come to stay, call a doctor, waste your pay,
sigh, cry, cause a fuss, fork out for flowe...

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Poemlifeperformance poetry

My thoughts on Bolton's NEO:LIVE

 

Scott Devon and Neoartists have made a friendly, caring, supportive and fun space for poets with the NEO:LIVE event in Bolton. I heartily recommend it. Nat and Paul Blackburn were excellent, well-organised hosts and will be guest poets at the next one in June. I'll be going to cheer them on. 
 
Bolton is easier to get to from Manchester than Manchester folk might think, a few q...

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neoboltonscott devonpaul blackburnopen micpoetryguitarsongpoem

Sultress

All I have to do
Is tip her…
All over my lips, at first, then
She starts to go down
Better than the rest
Her wicked whip of joy cracks with a satisfaction
Unmatched
Snatched euphoria glitters on a crush
And then, oh the rush!
She slips to that place only she knows
My god, she knows where to go
And knows what to do when she gets there
Which, naturally, she does, so quickl...

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addictlustlovesultressmistressaddictionpoem

My Beautiful Lie

I hide behind a lie forged by my hand,
Before this chiseled frame,  
Beyond the perfect shell they will not see my deceit
Thrown acrimoniously at their feet.
But they love the lie, the truth would only disappoint;
Disarray their shallow intentions,
After all, my invention pleases them
So why not let them drink up the joy
That it possesses? It impresses their eyes,
How the lies...

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poemlustlovecheatlieliesdeceit

Lanterne Poem

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heart

beats young

or beats old,

make yours his home

Chirst

 

 

 

 

This is my first attempt

at writing a Lanterne poem.

 

 

 

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poemLanterneChrist

Animals

The Fury
Pitiful the morsels for the feeding of the rats,
Dished out unemotionally by vicious little cats,
Like vermin, out the rats they come and scurry back to hide,
Whilst all the while the fat cats feast voraciously outside.

The Persecuted
In the darkest corners of the high walled city streets,
The rank and rotten souls of human waste claw to compete,
Shuffling through th...

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animalsholocaustdeathpersecutionracismhategreedpoem

The Addict

It’s only one more
What harm will it do?
If you really loved me like I do with you
Then you’d let me just have it, no fussing or fighting,
Not sitting here giving me daggers, me lightning
And watching me suffer; I’ll make this the last,
I promise from this day forward I’ll fast
I’ll become a new man; just you wait and see,
But for now will you not be a bastard to me
And just h...

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loveabusedrugsaddictionaddictpoem

Danse Macabre (The Dance of Death)

Oh streets, your weeping cobbles shine
Against the moonlight, wailing sirens
Beckon those that have succumb
To fill your guttered lines with souls.
Blistered, bloated, wandering lost
Through invalid eyes – flies feast
On stale skin, as deep within
The eruptions pulse to a deathly drum.
One by one they fall in line
Upon swarming sewer drains,
Stacked, like broken branches cau...

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plaguedeathdiseasedoctorreligionpoem

Unto the Somme

Entrenched
Behind failing lines,
These curtains of shrapnel and sharp steel
Conceal my misery,
So seamlessly, absently
I go on, numb, alone,
For sensation no longer blesses me.

Relentlessly, I force back my fear,
The absent tears never reach my cheeks
And thick blankets of earth and sand
Choke my cries, damp,  pitiful.
I fall to the boards clotted with death
As my bre...

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warworld war Iconflictbattlesoldierdeathpoem

One Of Us - A Stephen Lawrence Tribute

 

Twenty years ago, 
he is waiting for a bus,
'Cos twenty years ago 
he is simply one of us.
But just twenty years ago, 
he comes under attack,
Just 'cos twenty years ago, 
this teenager is black.

Twenty years ago, 
he runs for his life,
'Cos twenty years ago, 
racists stick him with a knife.
Twenty years ago, 
this firework is far too fleeting,
And so twenty ...

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poemMemorialStephen Lawrenceracism

Broken Alone

The trees, so hidden well by thickened wood,
While senses hide behind the deep despair,
He, ridiculed by those that can’t but should
And persecuted by those that once did care.

As fingers point and clone the loaded gun;
They choose a victim crying on his knees,
To watch him beg for solitude, in one
And disregard his perennial pleas.

The rights and wrongs of progress bliste...

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relationshiploveheartachesadnesssurvivalpoem

For I am Gone

Do not look for me, for I am gone.
I am the silent songs of birds, the words
Of ancient etchings scratched off warm stones.
The lone tumbleweed on open sands,
Spreading nothing more across vast lands
And crashing into sparse trees.
I am the breeze on the path that is left behind.
The vacant mind of an elderly man captured
In a photograph. I am the white edge,
The ledge of a pr...

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poemendlostlosssearching

Roses - NaPoWriMo Day 10

Roses are dead,

they smell like Le Pew.

But they still smell sweet

compared to you.

 

Roses are dead,

now you feel blue.

So take a shot neat,

and uncork the screw.

 

Roses are dead,

our hopes are too.

You were a cheat,

but I was too.

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Pepe Le PewPepeLe PewPewWarners BrothersWarner BrosWarnerBrosBrothersRosesUnlovePoemPoetryParodyCheatVodkaDrinkDeadNaPoWriMo

Untitled

Withered flowers fastened to a wasting bench,
Its plaque and pickled paint are weathered long.
The buckled slats curl flecks on harshest winter's freeze.
Where age defies intent to which it did belong.

As passers-by whom in their daily cues entrenched,
They, wrapped in woolen shields, look blindly on
And notice not the broken petals on the breeze,
Nor sense the echo of a parted...

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lovesoulsadnessdeathlossMemorialpoem

Humanity Lost

I freeze,
And fall to my knees.
The earth is cold tonight, my sight
Is sorrowed as I place my hands on its frozen surface,
No furnace to warm me, but bereft.
Here, on the borrowed hour
Of my death.

The frost seeping through my clothes
Chills my bones, I am lost here, alone.
The precipice in front of me is wide, and deep,
But full. I keep my head dipped,
Knowing they wat...

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deathfearhateholocausthumanitypoemracismwar

Waves (A Final Letter Home)

I lie and let the waves wrap 'round my feet,
As midnight skies perform the second act,
Where black and blue so effortlessly meet
And force the waters cold around my back.
I feel the sand bequeath my buried toes;
To let the grit defy my sodden skin
And as the open door to my soul grows
I let the frothy waters trickle in.

The moonbeams push my head into a daze
And buckle up t...

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deathwarpoemlosslovesoldierseaoceansoul

Running Man

 

Quickly pitting his wit

against an enemy

he reaches for his gun

the barrel is empty

the chamber clicks echo

 

Staggered staggering speed

as they close in he thinks

again which way to run

the white sedated walls

scream fear, shrinking backwards

 

A thorn through a window

whisperingly draws blood

as it strokes his cheek

reminding t...

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RunningManJamieBartonPoempoetrypoemspoeticenemyechoscreamwhisperingperceptionexitexists

Epiphany

 

A black pen, a worm chewing through

wood, waiting for flesh.

 

Crunching its way through shadow.

 

Candle wax on skin

setting hard in its way.

 

A flick of the wrist

and the ink scratch stains.

 

Trying to find a way

to communicate with vision.

 

Spew out, eat up, digest, reset.

 

Calculating the way with mind

set to epip...

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Epiphanyjamiebartonpoetrypoempoeticwormfleshshadowcommunicatereset

Pale Membrane

 

Everything seeps in, everything leaks, in to this pale membrane.

The air from gestures, the pain and wicked eyes flicker.

The soft secretion of lingering sadness shelters like a veil.

Not haunted though, not lost to anything.

A door left open for a breeze to walk in.

 

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PalemembraneJamieBartonpoetrypoemsadnessveilhaunteddoorpoetic

Polishing a Turd

 

Shite they say is such a dirty word

It conjures up all sorts of images

Brown, sticky and smelly vestiges

But can you polish a turd

 

I think you can, it is not absurd

To think you can make something better

To think you can improve the design

To think you can create something new

From something which reminds you of poo

 

It took a long while for ...

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epiphanypoetrypoemturdaPolishing

Quieter

 

I remember when I was young.

I remember the sad strangeness that could not forge

The words wretched wonder would wrench

The memory is stainless, sturdy, simple, a symbol

 

Beholden that it is now buried

but I needed that melancholy

And the knowledge I knew, or thought I knew

Fleshy words without force

 

Buried in a cemetery in ceremony

The dirt ...

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quieterpoempoetry

Decay

 

It can be said that fate waits for no one

It is almost a certainty in fact

 

But darkness with its spring heels waits alone

In a recess seldom visited, we go there in shade

Curtained we go there and raise suspicion

We go when there is blood to sacrifice

We come back when there is left only bone

 

Like the needless prayers of a mother

We disappear in...

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Poempoetrydecaydeathsonnetdark

Amy

The breath had left her, not long ago.
Her face, pressed into the pillow
Drained black tears onto white linen.
Her fight had been lost; the long battle had ravaged her
And her iconic war paint scrawled ironic defeat in tracks
Down her pale skin onto paler sheets.

A motionless husk; as she lays there;
Her raven hair, unravelled from familiarity,
Fall's delicately on her back,
...

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deathaddictionalcoholiclonelinesslondonfamecelebritypoem

Lost

A face of steel is easy 
When hidden behind.
Lost in false hope,
Drowning under memories
That my shoulders cannot hold;
They buckle in sharp flaws.
Watch me break at dawn
And vanish into dust.
My soul entrenched
Under a cotton shroud,
Unable to rise.
I will never again stand 
So boldly.
Time, the only healer,
Has stopped,
...

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poempainlostbreak uphopelessdepressionsadnesslossfear

Sniper

I felt nothing at first.
Just the loud crack of a distant whip, the echo
Bouncing through the crumbling streets and fetid alleyways,
Painted with the stench of unintentional sacrifices
And scorched by the Middle Eastern sun.
He can see me, this one, even now,
Staring down the lens like a wayward sailor scanning distant rocks for Sirens,
Tempting him to death.
He’s watching me cr...

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warwarfaredeathyouthtragedypoem

In Your Skin

It’s a funny place here, in your skin. Why do you keep it
So very pale? Like a sail left out in the sun
For too long and then flown at the turning of tides,
Though it glides across all of the seas
Its beauty is gone.

Such a strange place here, in your skin.
Like an ivory sheet thrown
Over sharp bones, pale tones and fingers
Pointing blame at passers by of unknown crimes
In ...

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Beautyloveadmirationhumanbodypoem

Oh Darkness, Sweet Darkness

With my acuminous arm
I saved her wretched soul, like the others,
I drew the blood through clotted veins
And lay her down upon the blackness.

I cleaved the meats from her ivory.
He knelt with me and watched her filth, her poison
Pour through the cobbled streets
Into welcoming drains.

Plucked from the cadaver,
Her vessels of virility are no more;
The erroneous allocatio...

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poetrypoemkillerDeathDarknessMurderLondonRipper

Mortality

I see him at my window tonight.
The moon, full and bright
Casts his dark shadow onto an icy wall.
A familiar silhouette, unmistakable,
Pressed against the pane.
The cold melts his breath into feathery diamonds
Running in thin veins down the thick glass.
His face, hidden and veiled in black
Glances my way and nods;
I nod back
Acceptingly. Suddenly,
The glass no longer divid...

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poempassingfearlostlosshumanitymortalityDeathpoetryreaper

I am not your cup of tea!

'

 

I may not be

your cup of tea

but I am your

bottle of rum --

most definitely...

so ease up that grip:

Stop strangling my neck.   

 

Let My liquid conflagration

scorch your lying condescension 

again and again and again.... without fail.   

 

If you but remember to be true  

to what lurks deep within you

I will assail your do...

Read more …

Tearejectioncuprumdrinkthoughtsobrietybitchpoem

conurbation

 

[tarmac touch supply chain shackle

dead land sprung mixing

business flow pleasure

cargo fed artery drip

conurbation

 

green belt boundary destination

misplaced motor-way expansion

catharsis false anatomy

road sweep strategy

cultural access invader hard shoulder

 

systematic appetite number

lowest common denominator

stamped queue disc...

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poemthe cityurbanizationModernlifeevolutionHumanityPeopleCommercialism

Soft Summer Reverie

A small expression about being on the expanse of a windswept field, whatever the season, really, but placed in the golden, summery panorama in this poem. Please enjoy!
`
 
 
 
Amber reeds, pliant 
in the summer wind 
swaying, dancing-
 
synchronised
                     now syncopated
and back again
 
shouting then singing xanthine etudes
...

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joyblissreveriesummermusicreedkisseskesnercrypticbardpoempoet

Life is a Cuppa

Life in a Cuppa

 

Up to a point
pliant leaves will seep
into all its waters
until the cup overflows

so much as to stain
the meticulously starched table linen.
Then we shall face with reckoning
its true substance!

 

 

 

`

Please make your response or comment on my profile page. Thank you.

Read more …

cupcuppaexistencelifephilosophykesnercrypticbardexcalibardpoemteapoetry

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