These feelings are caged in civilised speak
but I’ve got a book of matches that strike against my bones
and every breath I take
Is oxygen to this rage
Inside my skull the passenger in my brain
recites all the shit you’ve done
the things I’ve said and the unsaid dead
grinding down my teeth
as my tongue twists and writhes helter skelter
Seeking primal scream
writing
Sunday wordle: as yet remains untitled
We will be demolished in good time
no matter how eager we shout from our chests
we will turn where we are left to lie
Left to age again one more time
I am afraid, with much doubt there will be no stepping into white light
Those tales of afterlife, immortality will have been the biggest scams of our lives
So with all that said, this is the one life we know ourselves to have
And our legacy? Well, that’s not up to us to write
its all written in another’s mind
The clipped Sounds Of Drowning In Autumn
Welcoming the pitter patter of rain
we pull on our boots
walking hunchacked under looming clouds
the voices of builders amongst the bangs and drills
clipped in our cotton wooled ears Bleating absences sheepishly grey in our years
And through the hustle and bustle Depression whistles
as if through the teeth of a biting wind
Our noses cold, dripping with the tumble of leaves
Centipedes scratching at the leather of our boots
looking for crevices to dig through.
This is for W3
Hush the big……. slumber
Something in the woods loves you
something with susurrous hush
hush in communion
hush in gossip swirl
swirl of leaves
swirl of amber crunch
crunch of rugged boots
crung of snaggle-toothed roots
roots baring fingered crowns
roots tapping into earth
earth bares it’s teeth
earth feasts september’s harvest
harvest falls and bares crowns
harvest scythe bears deaths prowl
prowl in frosted trails
prowl in winds sail
sail amber seas
sail on swirling fall
fall to embers hearth
fall to earth’s rebirth
rebirth to silky worm
rebirth to nutrients swarm
swarm of leaves crisp and scrunch
swarm of bees buzz back home
home smell of comfort pie
home stuffed with bellies full
full of whimsy
full of dripping hats and coats on hooks
hooks of umbrellas pointing up
hooks of fingers in come hither crook
crook and crannie
crook and bow
bow out
bow down
down in hidey-hole
down from restless beg
beg of cool breeze
beg of nest of books
books spread whimsy
whimsy cradles inner child
whimsy tucks me in
in the warmth of bellies beast
in the night fall of harvest feast
feast on sleep
feast my eyes too big
big homely comforts
big dreams in slumber
slumber
comforts
Authors note:
The first line is the title of a book I’m currently reading Something In The Woods Loves You
Poem for W3
This did not work out well for the title…..
Spiral Skeletal Helter Skelter
I’ve got spiral staircase skeletal remains
in me jackboot hidebound laugh of a patchwork body
knock on wood, ya can hear the shallow refrains
rolling like marbles in me brain
I was ground to clown by tryin’ t’ stay supersane
now i’m helter skelter
a draft written up and screwed
thrown in the bin in a ball o’ white rose petals
a sham written in’t flesh
No doubt about it, no God could craft this.
Ameneurosis
Plastic bottle lungs wheezed under rattles o’ nettles
along with the dusty breath o’ old sleepers underneath our feet
scuffin’ our lungs as we headed forlorn into the gapin’ maw of sorrows feat.
The gaps in our teeth whistled our rush
The air was terminal, a yawnin’ chasm o’ our fill
as the day gasped its final hush
And then we felt it, the jolt beneath our feet
Then came the chuggin’ o’ steel and sparks
a ghost train hauntin’ us with its owlish hoots
Steamrolling the breath perched in our lungs
our breath that held us tight in our hidebound chests
Exhalation felt like another absence
a truancy that staked our hearts as rebels
Ameneurosis
Depressions Shadow Always Follows
Shimmering cats-eyes in my rear view
This road superimposed
in the void perched in encroaching whispers
my heart beats the ghosts
shedding you, this
Flowers at the side of the road in memorandum
Noting every absence
And to the edges of me
Is my shadow
A creature of deplorable emptiness
Swerving these rounded bends
Up and down these silent knolls
On the brink, it all hits again
That jolt that churns the stomach
The strings that stir the tears
And in my blurred vision
Its all just sparks and mirrors
Reading mirth in my skeletal passenger
As we reach the point of collision
Flutters Dance
Behind our eyes a mirror of voices
A chorus behind our stories and choices
Time spans a butterflies wings
weaving tapestries, blinked
our roots, doors unhinged
today’s present was never prophecy
but by flutters dance we are here
on the tail end of of butterfly prayer
Grimple Shrugged
Mr Grimple displayed pavonine flair
Feeling himself a favonian wind
Luck was in the air
So with umbrella to hook
He clung from the clouds
And when Betty looked up, boy did she cluck!
‘What the hell are you doin’ up there?’
All while she fluffed up her hair.
‘I’m bearing the lightness of being’ Said Mr Grimple and with one big shrug, lifted burdensome boulders
Upon the knolls of his shoulders.
The grind
We were twine o’ thread knottin’ time
bent us snaggle toothed spines needlin’ at the grind
We were fusty with British stiff upper lip
with sabre toothed vanity, mining us extraterrestrial in coal an’ lime needlin’ at the grind
We dreamed o’ greenin’ the land
cigarettes chained to us ‘ands needlin’ at the grind
We erased that which we wished to glimpse
In a trailblaze of exhaust fumes, steerin’ the grind
We extolled the land by mouth
And demarcated it with the other ‘and steelin’ uselve’s fer the grind
An attempt at this week’s W3
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 