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Wasted
Contributed by
flavellm
on
Sunday, 7th October 2012 @ 10:12:45 AM in AEST
Topic:
InternetLove
|
I don't know
I honestly do not know
stationary in the flow
children cry flowers wilt
old women peep out
from beneath their quilts
Minds exhausted practically dormant
activate mouths that ramble and splutter
man theres, no soul on the street
cats creep along the gutter
a faded photograph of a child
gathers dust in a room full of clutter
Stifle a yawn
consider a new approach
get the kettle on
go for a smoke
She stirs a forgotten impulse
it's awkward in her presence
rejection delivered with a sneer
the remainder of the journey tense
The 6 o'clock no show at starley bridge
oh well, plenty more fish in the sea
and plenty more beers in the fridge
50, grey
it aint too far away
lines on the forehead
plastic ducks in the bath
a passion for horticulture?
seriously, it hurts me to laugh
Mourn not love lost
but love never found
low points on special brew
days without sound
Wet bench
parkside swigging
I can hear distant laughter
swings creak and cans clatter
tesco bags swirl with sweet wrappers
I'm already bald and I'm getting fatter
the lower end of the class scale doesn't matter
mumble into the night because no-one listens
In the moons silvery light the dewed grass glistens
Shame I am alone
Make your ma proud
better to create rubbish
than simply imitate genius
just make your ma proud
the views are vile
atmospheres sterile
buying the ref with middle class cunning
a mid life crisis a new found passion for running
cycling shorts
urban sports
how to begin?
It's simple really very very simple
observe my ambitions through shattered glass
see? I'm not here for sympathy I just want it acknowledged
that my future had shrivelled up and expired
before I'd even gone to college
Wiliam Hill, The Crown, Shipleys Amusements
all please leave me alone
a expensive distraction on my way home
suck peanuts and sip mild with
my dear fellow jobless
my dear fellow hopeless
my dear fellow luckless
my dear fellow homeless
So this England
shout it out loud
so this is England
make us proud
sweaty hand, clutching a creased daysaver
faded leather jacket, stubborn lighter
the evening is cold
a limp wrist flicked for the time
continuing to smoke below the golden line
screeching cats wailing sirens
city sounds rattle around hollow skulls
a tramp on chips protects his loot from the gulls
the dirty alleyways on this estate
that I'm unable to avoid
pegging the washing
preparing for tomorrow
Im going nowhere, love
but I'd like you to follow
Copyright ©
flavellm
... [
2012-10-07 10:12:45]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Wasted
(User Rating: 1 )
by northernlights on
Tuesday, 9th October 2012 @ 03:26:46 AM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
| Gritty life writing.Sometimes when poems are long they lose the interest of the reader, but this one is certainly not in that category.I like a dose of reality,great description and expression,a kind of ,' in your face I'm gonna say it as it is,' take on life,concluding with warmth of heart that shines through in the last two lines. |
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Re: Wasted
(User Rating: 1 )
by shelby on
Tuesday, 9th October 2012 @ 10:23:26 PM AEST
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a Message)
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I agree I at times wont continue with a very long poem I lose it but this is not so. It kept me reading, I felt it, saw it, walked in the alley, saw the heart of the poet writing it. Well done.
Michelle |
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Re: Wasted
(User Rating: 1 )
by iodinelove on
Thursday, 11th October 2012 @ 12:32:48 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| at the first this is England, you forgot the is. Aside from that, great job. |
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