Gutted

As fierce as I’m swallowed,
through momentous times,
I’m left
Stunned and shunned
Shaking
on a quiet sidewalk somewhere.
Reminding myself of others –
times, people, even places.
And thus, I’m left
a mushy pulp of lightness:
Whimpering
Piteously
from this path.

Morning

In the morning, when you wake
please wait.
Push me from your head –
Don’t push me from your bed:
Let me rise up
and wake up
and get up, to see
what you looked like
and smell like
and felt like to me!

Thoughts Are Few

And inconsistent;
largely light, reticent.
Struggling through
some lonely night –
I try to think; so on I write!

Music plays me,
curling strayly,
lost in worlds I cannot own.
Mindless – flightless –
walking slowly…
Soft in brains puss brought to show!

Short and tragically
we peer contemptuously:
Laugh at sordid, life-lost lightly.
On my grounds
I’m sure my folly
when the night brings losers; jolly!

Back From the West

On the 1st of October.
Back thru’ the back streets and roads I once knew.
Honest: they spot me,
And point and shout over…
But these aren’t the places or people I knew.

Soon seas of grey skies
Roll in and roll over!
Soon loud street parties, of glam, roll in view.
Leaving me breathless –
Just like I remember –
Still trying to banish the old,
With the new.

I feel the difference:
Like I’m not a member.
Like my place out here, is now up for review.
The sun will soon burn up
These clouds of the winter.
Yes, I’m waiting here for the great sky to blue!

4:20

A return to attempting to find my poetic voice. We have come to the end of a string of Beck’ Beat Poetry events, which have been a series of fantastical occasions! Enabling me and others to meet and hear top-class poets from across south London (and Hackney)!

Here is the 420

 

143

Lying, cheating
thieving swines’.
Stole my life –
then broke my mind!

Caught my soul
and watched it shatter
Loaned my love for life,
to batter!

First they broke me!
Then they raped me:
Doubled back
and swiped my money!

My friend butchers –
beggars all!
Stole my brightness
killed my soul.

Those dawns you dance for
where loves eye might see,
leaves nothing to cry for,
still loving you greatly

Dancer

There once was a dancer
a furtive entrancer

Androgyny performer
The dancer was known
Through a land empty – walking,
and fumbling and talking –
no others would dance
and no others would sing.

So singular dancer
well rounded and good,
would dance to their music
(and sing for their feet)
while our land free of movement
watched dancing the treat.

There once was a dancer
lone song in the din

A colour ambassador
flute chanting its rhyme
throughout lands of grey
by peoples dismay
and this dancing entrancer
caught up all the day

While a light shone its lightness
while the muffled birds watch
as time moved abruptly
to a well measured tune
So brightness was shared
by a dance in the noon

There once was a dancer
crowned colour through grey

A dancer still dancing
To nobodies songs.