Tuesday, 29 September 2015

The Castle


 Thudding wheels on cobblestones
Clatter jarring random beats
Spiteful noises without pity
Nothing pleasant here repeats

A passage way for passing through
A nameless place where never ends
No space for humour wit or slapsticks
No sight of openhearted friends

Sunday, 27 September 2015

The Ball



Back and forth the ball returns
Spinning bouncing changing shape
Depending on reaction time
To bring on prospects for escape

Catch it throw it head or kick it
Make it from material mounds
Press it squash it roll it round
Each ball in transit speed astounds

This missile sphere approximate
Close range most devastating
May send you senseless out of it
Your head of steam then detonating

Friday, 25 September 2015

Pitter-Patter


Musical barometers
Forecasting heavy rain
Make a hail of drenching noises
In the hills around the plain

Thunder claps applauding
At the state of all around
As tunes get glued together
Leaving no discerning sound


Parceled up the clamorous
In confusing clatter dreams
What once was heard is now absurd
Resounding symphonies of screams

Monday, 21 September 2015

Choked

Forced to sit and wait without respite
Craving any chance to budge
Making pointless pleas that no one hears
Too pitiful and powerless to begrudge

City streets are taut and snarling
Traffic ramming chock-a-block
Seeping sluggish creeks of energy
A pent up pressure pounded lock

Monday, 7 September 2015

A Life In Theory

 
Peter Kogler: Spatial Illusion
As though sitting catatonically
Gazing in a plastic screen
Afraid that one is missing out
On someone else's partial scene

Indifferent to ones pond like pool
A fundamental life surround
Jealous of wherever else
Eave-dropping snippets that abound

Natters ‘One on One’ most feared
Much too personal far too real
Whereas the comfort found in wireless
Gives ones imagined beau ideal

Sunday, 6 September 2015

POET PARTY



When all that’s left are remnants
with nothing more to say
As moonlight fades and sun parades
The colder light of day

What then the way of writing things
As if somehow the phrases counted
Pertinence demanding relevance
Scream out on Billboards mounted

Poets sit in search of messages
In hope of something else to gain
As inner voices talking all at once
Send out rejections slips of pain

Tuesday, 25 August 2015

Weather Report



Squally winds are building up
Foreboding clouds distressing
Drenching trenching water falls
Bad weather needs are pressing

Windscreen wipers rubbered up
Two naked scrapers streaking
The road ahead is vision dead
A sense of hazard havoc wreaking

People hunched up seeking shelter
A hundred million landing stages
Too late the writer’s book is done
No happy ending in these pages