Best Butchers Poems

I was a Butchers boy. 
I delivered peoples meat. 
I went round on a bicycle 
to save my aching feet. 

Some people liked our Pork Chops, 
and others they liked Lamb. 
You even got the customer 
who didn"t give a damn. 

The bike it had...

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“The Butcher’s Apron,” often called,
My countries flag, I am appalled,
For Union Jack, inspiring cloth,
Once doused the world in bloody froth

That’s not to say, it’s all been bad,
It did produce my mum and dad, and now
I’m here, produced by them; I produced 
A son called Shem

And...

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BOMBERS AND BUTCHERS
Don't worry little girl, you need not cry,
we know your tears, and feel them every one
and all too well, though many more will die,
you will go home again, it is not gone,

but merely re-arranged, or burned at most,
your place called home still thrives...

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(The Lamb)

My lungs empty, no longer inflate 
This timid mind, cannot feel hate 
I’m so confused 
don’t understand money 
grazing the fields
was my milk and honey 

Flails my skin, keeps everything tight 
Slices out my heart, this very night 
I’m terrified here 
without a clue...

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BUTCHER’S PAPER

population growth, wrapped in butcher’s paper, blossoming beautifully

eyes dot the vainglorious poppies — bloodshot with remembrance

6/1/2018
Silent One’s When one line is not enough
33 syllables...

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Breast with me,
beating like a bird.

In our moment
all hope soared
with a fragrant moon
and kissing
was the mixing of culture.

At these depths
I felt what tore
at the threads
of your music.

I met the guns
of El Salvador.

I touched the pallid
flesh of your dead
riveted friends.

I hosted your nightmare
of butchers.

Your fingers are...

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Poor Blue. Written about a visit to the butchers with my mum, in Liverpool, when I was a child

Poor Blue

To butchers I went
With mother to spend
Some money on meat for the week
For two days a week 
My mother cooked meat,
Boiled tatties, with carrots and peas...

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