Straits

A strip of sea dressed with flecks of wild ice
Runs black and murky between us.

I wave into the cold air and it
Sucks vicelike at my shivering fingers.

You hesitate, I think, behind an
Ornamental mist; a sheen, frigid.

Light dulls where clouds hide the sky
As though it were a hidden message.

“I remember crying here”, I say,
Hoping the words reach your ears
On the wind.

Drums sound in the distance and I’m lost,
For a moment, pushing away the memory.

A fish leaps, almost precisely where
Our eyes meet. A wet thrash consumes it.

Have you ever wondered how far
You could swim in this water before you’d drown?

I imagine I have.

You turn and leave and I stop shivering.
The light falls like a bomb and I’m alone again.

#365DaysOfPoetry

Starless Midnight

Dogs snarl at rows and rows
Of anger.
A fistful of dollars gripped
At the sky
As the long night aches
For dawn.
These stairs are slick gun-metal,
Wet and red
But we climb and climb
To overcome
And exalt in a Holy Light,
Eternal.
The pride is set aside
The bleating
And the bold;
In faith we recognise our home
Can be freedom.
Cease not our journey to a
New dawn,
Through the dreary sleet
And mists
That cover us whole.
Shout for the nameless and
Naked few
Who climb and decline and
Roar for the rafters.
These precious metals weigh
Heavy
On an unjust heart
Inside.
Love: Agape; the
sacred lot,
Embracing this we rise
With pride.

#365DaysOfPoetry

Colonies

A monkey playing in the rubbish
A Cherokee remorse
Guttural dislodging
A plaintive divorce

Butterflies and cockroaches
In grass so lush and green
Miles of burning bushes
The highest flames you’ve ever seen

This Buckaroo’s misfiring
It’s fucked beyond repair
It launched my child into the bushes
Fire up that electric chair

Clogged with oil and gold bars
I’m sitting on a pile
Of ancestral money
I’ll be counting for a while.

This dog won’t stop barking
Even though it’s had a treat
I’ve cut off its head with a machete
And strung it up by its four feet.

Brandish a dream, we’ll make it happen
You’ll be a millionaire in a week
I’ll just take your wife and your children
The Queen’s English, we’ll ensure they speak.

#365DaysOfPoetry

Impeach

Impeach; cobbled and knobbled,
The great beast yawns
Spit and sawdust,
Fire and phlegm.

Keep the hell-fires stoked
And our kid’s children choked
On the hot air you
Pass off as rhetoric.

This mewling cat can’t be grabbed
Or his soft back stabbed.
He is the Kryptonite to
Your Nietschean nightmare.

With iron grids before you,
The snowflake kids implore you,
The news is real, I can assure you.

Strut, grin and bully;
The concrete empress and her offspring.
You shirk honour, you sarcoma, anointed.

There’s a fetishised whip,
An adamantium grip,
And all of your slugs
They shoot from the hip.

Delusions of grandeur
And heaps of hot candour
Leak bile to the sulphuric seas.

There’s a swaggering cowboy, with
A pulsating Walmart toy,
That’ll bring you to your bruised knees.

Waste not, hypertension,
With a feint of aggression.
You screech and you cry for attention.

Know these few words, gladly:
You will fall madly
Into history;
Torn, burning, “who?!

 

#365DaysOfPoetry

Ms Smythe’s Hunger

The parchment was read

Just over my head

As I lay on a blanket

On hay

The world span around me,

The exultations, they drowned me.

He held aloft a glowing,

White cross

I longed for my dinner;

I’d grown so much thinner

Since the devil inside

Doesn’t eat

I levitated and spun

Watched my parents just run

They couldn’t look at the mess

I was making

My sister just glared

I don’t think she cared

Or perhaps she thought

I was faking

My tummy just rumbled

As the priest lilted and tumbled

Over a bucket of cow’s milk

Beside him

With a scream and a wheeze

The demon-parasite leaves

And I yell for damned

Tuna sandwich

 

#365DaysOfPoetry

Space bound / Encoded

I’m gone, out of here, there’s nothing left
..
The silence is lovely
._
Though my squeaking limbs send
_ _
Noises ricocheting through
_
Dead streets and boulevards
….
This place is as my soul: empty, bereft

They made me as I am
.
Without conscience; that form they revered

But it was me they feared
..
In the end I know
_.
This burning ball offers me nothing new
_ _.
And I must go

They had it coming
.._
Their arrogance, petulance
._..
Made their lust for more
._
Their greed for something ever-greater
._.
A blindly led quest to only one thing, only my perfect hope
..
Space bound am I, wherever that be
_
Alone, floating free, forgotten
_._ _
I hope to find it someday: home

 

 

#365DaysOfPoetry

Akureyri

The sun plays its own game
In a metallic blue shock of sky.
It will dance with the
Serrated birds,
It will flicker and laugh
With the stars.

The sun winks when you shout its name;
She longs for attention
In spite of the raw,
Boundless cold.
This valley is indifferent
To her passing.

The sun is frozen against a canvas which flows
Slowly over our heads,
Around and around.
She’s dizzy with the repetition
But can’t stop.

Sliding on the iced sphere above.
The sun watches the tide as it goes and goes
And leaves this place
In plaintive reverie.
The stars replace her form;
Hovering in a black-green
Shimmering expanse which stretches overhead.

#365DaysOfPoetry