Daily Poem – Dark in the Park

Dark in the Park


Pumping heart, slowed with every emotion; flattened and gasping for air space.

Room to slip a tear duct washer; a bleeding lonely resistance.

To open closed cupboards, full of dust and time.

More exposing than a rock of rage

A carved monolith of ideas, chiselled into a broken spirit

Frail as a butterflies antennae; blasted inside a vacuum.

A stream of desperate scavengers peck at the chicken breast

Tearing the last gasp of meagre meaning from street bound balloon salesman

Sweep on the greenish grey waves crashing on the rusty bars of a spent retainer

Gasp for ear space as splashes merge skywards

Bricks crumble under the weight of petrified corpses

Corrupted conditioning dictates falling growing, flying, blowing misery

Powerless excess sapping the genius from the groins of ordinary beings.

Organised law schemes beat well meaning intent,

Eyes gorged in soap opera conditioning,

That recycle torment with antagonistic daily struggling slagging matches.

Setting fire to bonds of political justice

Not known, just outcast

Besieged and stranded

December 22nd

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2014


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