Poem of the Day –Classed Master

Classed Master


Tall as a jacked up bingo hall; he smiles

Scraping skin from a traumatic tender spot;

Sending a message to the trial

Smiling together with the congregation


Kneeling in gin soaked carpets; sadness washing over in spinning meanings

Bamboo cane parting the cavernous undergrowth; a clearing

With vine leaf sandwiches served held in coconut oil napkins

Folded for the sake of the creases

Shaped like daffodils at Christmas

Flowering out early because they need to


Clapped in baskets; clasps fastened to keep out the prying hands

As the bumps become babies

The Autumn becomes spring

Flowing on like serpent rivers winding out to sea

Fever growing in pitch as the time comes closer


Baked apples soaked in toffee with edges hard to bite

As the bickering neighbours refuse to forgive

The garden fence an issue like the Berlin Wall

Tear down the hearts closed for protection

As vast as the chasm that exists between people


Window shoppers greet the cracks with anticipation

As the class collapse, in slow motion; about them

They never forget

The sound of breaking glass




June 9th 2016

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2016

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