September 2016 (2)

24 September 2016 at 22:17 (Poems/Poetry) (, , )

my arms
a soft blanket of care
carry a backpack
with teeth decaying treats
a press of lips
lightly planted on a face
a patience lost over petty moments
that eventually tip toed out
orders cut into pieces small enough
for a child to swallow

in a backpack
if a spotted hole isn’t mended
becomes a station
where tendered deeds I packed
get on and off
insulted for a reason
insulted for none (24th September 2016)

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February 2015 (1)

15 February 2015 at 14:58 (Poems/Poetry) (, , , , , , )

peep out sometimes
from underneath own lampshade
to take a close up
on a passers-by route to non-being
their screwing up eyes
smear walls with anger
while pigeons
shit greasily on the pavement

shame, they can’t be asked
where they go to
why each evening resembles
a ceasefire
with hope
drying out over and over again
is keeping a good appearance No. 1 thing?

passers-by are not so German in approach
that is to say
hesitate when it comes to giving orders
hands suffocate in non-negotiable salute
ready to follow orders
than take action in own hands
slight shift from submissive
to curious appears at night:
to know if they are alone in bed
send a foot in search
only to find despair by their side

the stream of passers-by walk through us
they’d rather put away
pain-filled tears into a lunchbox
ignore cold blooded politicians
plotting how to introduce
more rates next year
men for the sake of getting a living
forget to live
do you see it
from underneath your own lampshade? (27th January 2015)

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