|
Poetry Evening
Their firebright words lit up the air In rhythmic reds and rhyming blues. Unseen, he smiled to sit here where He'd struck the match that lit the fuse.  The Mower
After Philip Larkin https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/48423 The mower conked out. On close inspection, I found That it had just run out of petrol. Having refilled With a funnel, I pumped the choke three times As per the instructions. It started first time And I was back underway, circumnavigating Tree trunks, dodging daffodils past their prime. I didn’t even see a hedgehog, let alone Kill one. But then I’m not so busy writing poems That I let the grass grow two feet high. I may not be a poet. But at least I can mow a lawn Without slaughtering the wildlife.  Hospitals
Inspired by a trip to Wenlock Priory Hard to believe every city had one Once, a hospital like this. (Medicine Was considered valuable back then.) Hospitals inspired awe, devotion. Take a long look at these old foundations Worn smooth by centuries of erosion. This building served a huge population Who thought it the best place to get well in. These crumbling walls contained things they called ‘wards’ For the ill - or ‘patients’ - as you may have heard Them referred to. Now it seems quite absurd That we’d give such care, let alone afford The vast expense. They were such wasteful times Back then. Buildings of this enormous size Cost a fortune. Debts rose, interest declined. These monsters were bleeding the country dry. People no longer sought medical help, Ignored the outdated doctrines of health And turned instead to the Cult of the Self: What else matters, if you’ve still got your wealth? Finally, they were all shut down by law And now they just sit here for us to explore. And children wonder, “Well, what were they for?” Since nobody sickens or dies anymore. |
A Diary blogA photo, a piece of writing, a video... Anything creative done on a Thursday afternoon. 
Buy my debut poetry collection here
Archives
January 2018
Categories |
RSS Feed
