a smattering of selected poems...
Lament. (Inspired by Jeremiah of Anathoth.)
Solitary sits the city once full of people, like a widow weeping silently at night, grey tears are on her cheeks all lovers gone none remain to comfort her her walls reduced to a dirty white and red wreath
on that macabre festival her buildings bereave babies and mothers faint and die, young men young women too besmirched with blood in the dust lie young and old together uncounted houses touched by the death angel
helpless, she saw the nations enter her, strangers come to pick over her desolation and destruction, she groans for they have seen her nakedness, turns her face away, her heart wrung out like a cloth
even God, his sanctuary abandoned the holy stones lie scattered cross her square this once proud princess of the province broken down, councillors sighing in despair her ways and walls lie languishing together
travellers come now, look and see, what can you say, to what can this compare they nod their heads, is this the city that was called the garden ... but, now with bony skin stretched back of hand she merely brushes those that pass by.
Solitary sits the city once full of people like a widow weeping
silently at night.
©le-drummer 2011
The Bus.
the bus was full? a woman younger with golden skin accommodated me we exchanged smiles names rings.
the bus was full? a woman younger with golden skin accommodated me we exchanged smiles names rings.
Green Polka dot Shoes.
Laying on the grass plucking at it, as she always had gazing gently into the vale sees the old stone flour mill silent water wheel plays with the Marlborough packet eventually lighting one more patiently
waiting. Smiling remembering Father saying if you sat in enough places I wouldn’t need a lawn mower smoking the time
away she never heard the earth shaking thud as he wrapped himself inside the bright red machine like a winter scarf around a tree
the sirens never entered her conscious reverie she shivered though not cold sees shadows soften lit one more patiently
acceptance comes so slowly she begins to quietly click down the worn cobbled path turns pass the dairy quickly squeaks rusty gate open slides key in cold lock as the first mascara laden tear drops on her green polka dot shoes.
©le-drummer 2011
Laying on the grass plucking at it, as she always had gazing gently into the vale sees the old stone flour mill silent water wheel plays with the Marlborough packet eventually lighting one more patiently
waiting. Smiling remembering Father saying if you sat in enough places I wouldn’t need a lawn mower smoking the time
away she never heard the earth shaking thud as he wrapped himself inside the bright red machine like a winter scarf around a tree
the sirens never entered her conscious reverie she shivered though not cold sees shadows soften lit one more patiently
acceptance comes so slowly she begins to quietly click down the worn cobbled path turns pass the dairy quickly squeaks rusty gate open slides key in cold lock as the first mascara laden tear drops on her green polka dot shoes.
©le-drummer 2011