Plagiarised Playwright

The goat song of the godless

gave gravity to greed,

manhood marching for Mother,

sews such a sorry seed,

and you should follow Oedipus

and carve out the orbs you used,

you cannot un-see the obscene scene,

your mind remains abused.

 

The want of weird and witchery,

the ever aching need,

has written brittle history,

a rare, and scary breed,

be careful storming the castle,

the cattle are confused,

the coming of a latent lord,

the right to be refused.

 

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Please (Written for Nina Lewis)

Please,

don’t censor that beautiful smile,

why mar that moment-meant mouth

with lippy?

You grip me,

when that smile comes from your eyes,

I cannot disguise my delight

when you appear without the mask,

the unnecessary makeup

that breaks up

the raw honesty of your performance.

Please,

don’t censor that beautiful smile,

your eyelashes laugh easily,

your moment-meant mouth

pauses

for poetry,

a momentary stall,

I catch my breath, suddenly realising,

I had not exhaled in a while.

Please,

don’t censor that beautiful smile.

 

 

Written for Nina Lewis (Worcestershire Poet Laureate 2017).  This true sentiment applies to everyone.  You are ALL beautiful the way you are.

Knowing

Knowing

(For Brenda Read-Brown)

Note: The final two lines are from a poem called ‘Flagship’ from Brenda’s book; ‘Arbitrary Edges’. You can buy Brenda’s brilliant collection here: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Arbitrary-edges-Brenda-Read-Brown/dp/1291376909

 

 

I was only two poems in

before I had to stop

and write something,

moved by a line

that defined the truth,

so many pretend to ignore.

Smitten by something

you had written

in my youth, proof

that love cares not for age,

a page of your thoughts,

penned almost perfectly before

you could possibly know

they would echo

evermore.

And I knew you knew me,

and I burned, my heart,

tearing at the seems,

‘and I learned that aching feet

are the realities of dreams.’

I Owe Matthew Richards an Apology

A bale of turtles makes me smile,

for reasons only two of us know of,

one, a fool, whose folly

was to know too much, but failed

to trust in the indecency of instinct,

the other, a sustentacular friend,

spurned a life-time ago,

the pandemonium of parrots,

causing chaos in creativity,

the naivety, never overcome,

one learned to nibble the nails

in the cross, let rage recede,

as the page will bleed,

and let wisdom come

with an overwhelming of children.