Hopeless

London is a place to sleep 

Say the homeless on the street The favourite place of the undesirable. 

As I ride the London taxi to Sewer Street 

To the path of the forgotten gold and rats - 

No Pied Piper here;

Just houses of forgotten gardens -

A playground of children;

The robot generation within two dimensions 

Which one is reality?

A suburb of let-out beds and clutter. 

I scavenge for my meal and

The microwave goes ping.  

As I throw the cardboard in the bin outside 

The man settles down to sleep

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Peter's story

A fishermen's tale in a book we dress in a carpet of dreams. Nine angels streaming over the hall Who drink the silver cup of loyalty. Songs lift the walls. That lonely traveller In a pew. Silent and forlorn. Families running verses through their fingers. So we cast with a pebble Life's ripples on a pond. Pick a star out of my pocket. Such an old door, confetti on the floor. Fairytales of dusty promises we made. Look at the candlestick so forlorn; With seeds of judgement, peg a page to Our hearts. Walk in two by two, an olive branch So many souls lost. Let fly with the wings of life. Painted skin Many a fold. Such is love, so pure in sunlight one's rose of beauty embers In a picture frame on the sideboard. Leadership arrives with four seasons; Nails so deep; the burden of so many Whose table is laden. We give with gifts and Shove them a drawer such lies flame our sins. A suitcase in Sunday best, for who shall trespass into the wilderness? Be di...
Read more

My space is there anyone in my space

Anxiety The bungee jump is petrifying; My plane is crashing; I'm hyperventilating  As I abseil from the highest cloud. Heart racing, I want to escape From the parachute of life. As I walk the tightrope alone In a circus of insanity, I am glued to the seat In a sea of spiders. No space in my everlasting black hole; I'm freaking out, trapped in my prison cell, As I self-explode in dynamite. No silence in the library As I sweat on my sunbed For relaxation. I'm nervous and naked in the shower. Fast - dodge the bullets! I’m suffocating in a rush-hour tube train And I freeze inside an igloo. I scream inside, surrounded by invisible people As Count Dracula rattles on my coffin. In my bottle of self-medication I'm drowning with exhaustion.
Read more

My help pill

A day out for the Bradgate Writers Unit at the zoo.  As the cuckoo clock rings out, It’s time to jump out of my coffin And put on my Primark suit. Down the apples and pears to Barbie and Ken’s roadside cafe For a tankard of hot brown soup. Then out in my space-suit As I skip and hop like the Michelin Man. I arrive at the farm run by the NHS; All the animals will be there. As I push open the hospital door To a 1960’s iKEA conference room With Mr Funny, Mr Silly, Mr Tickle, Mr Greedy, Mr Happy, Miss Busy, Miss Impossible, Goldilocks and the three bears And Snow White asleep in the corner. We all wait for the clipboard manager as she’s late.  Miss Scatty Head is never on time. Tarzan announces the arrival of Jane; All the apes and chimpanzees go mad. The Queen shouts, “Order order in the court, This is a library not a clown’s circus!” We all take our betting slips and Take out our feathers in ink. We write in Latin like Pam Ayres and Shakespeare. As we all stan...
Read more