Bricked Poems - Poems about Bricked

fashion hunting

...I’ve spent the last couple of weeks in Paris settling in. My every appliance, gadget and charger have been bricked by the weird, French electricity, which bobs when it should weave or something - but...

Dirty war

...Sometimes I cry
and I don't know what for
every step we have taken in life
has taken us to different worlds
now you are an ally
to those to whom you were a foe
and you are using dirty traps
to...

Nottingham Girl At The Goose Fair Prt 1

...Every year In Robin Hood Country Nottingham
There in October, they hold. What is known, as the Goose Fair. It's huge. and goes back centuries, straining the Middle Ages, perhaps even longer.
My pal...

Anchorites And Hermits

...Within the shaded dust accumulated annals
Layers of times past
And cobwebbed dim cold halls of a history 
Not always hide their secrets and mystery
As the echos of the past still resound
That ha...

The Inward Artist

...A washed-out skyscape
where mountains climb,
only to be ripped apart
by small gusts of wayward winds.

Is it that my eye is gray, or is the day
waiting to be colored?
Sky high hues
are contai...

Obeying the Whistle

...A thin-lipped nun blows her whistle.
An acre of concrete ground
stops playing, acting-out
our brief make-believe lives.

Reality is a cold wind
chewing at pale knees, gray shorts
and blue skir...

Born There

...I was born there,
there between the grey days and ghostly nights.
I came out of the warm cave
fully encased with my mother's sadness.

The ghetto walls moved in or out
inch by crawling inch, th...

Researching Fly Trappers

...Wizened elf researched the fly trappers as well as he could.
They were wreaking havoc and destruction in the deep north wood.
How do you get them to stop? He asked, looking them up at will.
Unfort...

The Flood Contained Electric

...
"The Flood Contained Electric"

walls of glass 
sheathe this heart
a conservatory
for the lacking 
of menagerie
the walls aren’t
bricked up 
comme dans une
la orangeri...

Enigmatic Love

...His voice is as fresh as the morning air, 
of his existence, every bone in my body is aware. 
His face is as mysterious as a book with no cover, 
oh how lucky I am, to have him as my lover. 
His ...

The Haunting

...
"The Haunting"

What happened 
was a crime
in more ways 
than one

who can understand 
the mind of a recidivist
twisted, calculating
in this story, there is 
more tha...

Whimsicality

...She had a face like a fish fryer's basket,
All stressed  and creased and lined 
His like  a bag of old spanners
Abused, misused, misaligned. 
She jumped his place in the bar queue
One  Boozy Sat...

Saint Hilda's Tears

...We were always a little ash white,
the girls always a bit cleaner;
the soap always green carbolic
the toilet paper always slick and hard to scrunch,
six year old bottoms always a little sore.

...

When I Was Five

...When I was five, I played
Around other children
At the park 
On the west edge
Of town, where the gray concrete slab served
As our skating rink.

I recall
Their presence, but not their faces-
...

Renovations

...The House was featured on the T.V.
Celebrities put on hard hats
posed with sledge hammers.
It was said that the old structure
had ‘good bones’. What it did have
were walled-in nocturnal whispers...

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