Poeta fit non nascitur

April 29, 2009

 Yipee! At last I have had something published in The Big Issue Street Lights pages.
 Unfortunately I sent in the draft idea instead of the completed, somewhat pretentious and over-blown version which I publish here:
 
 

From an Inglenook

 

 

Passing the window onto the eaters

And drinkers warm welcome inside.

Outside I’m goose-bumped,

Sweat cold and clammy.

 

 

The fire in the hearth is rosy cosy

Talkers all comfortable within.

Outside I’m goose-bumped,

Sweat cold, and clammy.

 

The fire of our love died, embraceable embers

Out into the cold I blundered blindly.

Outside I’m goose-bumped,

Sweat hot, disease lumped.

 

 

The fire in my blood is so very nasty

Fuel for death’s burning armies.

Outside I’m goose-bumped,

Sweat cold, and clammy.

 

 

Meanwhile through the window,

The talkers chat and chew

Their endless meal, teeth and steel.

Outside I’m goose-stepped

Off to the hospice house

Led by the rider’s pale horse,

“Old lady next…”

Outside.

 

Postscript

 

“Did anyone know him?”

“No, no relatives either.”

“Shame.”

 

 
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s