Tuesday, 12 April 2011

Poem 7/30

There is not a predator
Lurking behind every tree waiting
On the off chance to abduct
But the Daily Mail is read and scrunched

To light the fire
And thoughts ooze like slugs
The worst stories haunt and linger,
Pain pinned down by fonts and

She is out of sight, 
Hidden in tree scrub and hedge.
Buffeted by wind, a scream would be lost,
The end of the garden is too far.

An anxiety riddled nest of magpies
Cawing, screeching guttural alarms,
Their joyous alert as a baby
Bird is ravaged.

Poem 6

Monday, 11 April 2011

Poem 5






Once young men were compared to tigers-
He is such a tiger, as sinous and powerful
Young women were likened to a lark
Singing or a deer; she is a doe, as graceful
Now animals have their majesty disembled
Strength reduced when wrapped in wires
Can animals be admired when they are victims
Sacrificed on the burning greed of human pyres
In the future young men will be compared to cars
He is as elegant as a mercedes, as swift
As a fighter plane, young women will be
Compared to money, she is a shiny, golden gift

Sunday, 10 April 2011

Poem 4

The trees are covered in glinting fairy lights
Blue and silver polished points in the plaza
Green leaves and their shivers are banished
In exchange for aspirations
Made physical like pinned
Powder dry butterflies or thousands of eyes
Unblinking; their muscles are cut
Sliced through with avarice

Sunday, 3 April 2011

Poem 3

The secret tree is not a secret
It stands on the edge of the field
Roots in the brook seeking water
Old man willow, your nooks are rooms
For hedgehogs, your limbs shape the den
That is supposed to be secret
Don't tell anyone, a child says
His shoe slips from his foot and falls
Deep into the tree, his sister
Breaks a stick and pokes the darkness
Retrieves it and silences all tears
Don't tell anyone this green tale
The secret tree is now your secret

Saturday, 2 April 2011

poem 2

No toy guns, no plastic replica of a lethal device
I was firm about it; no guns, life is sacred
Then a stick was slashed into a whippy sabre
The thrust and parry of the common hazel twig
Lego built with care can be transformed into a star
Wars blaster; don't worry mum, we are only killing
Robots