Autumn
….. is mortally wounded!
It stumbles, tumbles
across the silken, rouged sky
quivering over rusted hedges
shivering through shouldered trees,
splattering, smattering
everything in blood-red.
On it goes, on it flows
gasping and grasping
at clouds of bandages,
hobbling, wobbling
suffering deep gashes;
haemorrhaging life
in crimson splashes.
While winter;
with the sly smile
of an Arctic fox,
coldheartedly waits for autumn’s
shredded, dreaded last breath!
Ian Souter 2025
Categories:
haemorrhaging, autumn, imagery,
Form: Free verse
9. MEAT MARKET
Night of the burning bush and rain
Cries of irritable babies bother
Laughter circles like vultures
Descends on heaving heads that hang
Whispers weave through the wafts
Of tightly knitted nightmares
Blotted night air heavy with hope
Haemorrhaging hearts unaware
Of the bitter biting reality
Of identical continued defeat
Swords unsheathed from scabbard
Eat into willing rented flesh
Dogs excrete and recreate
Cats prowl in delighted victory
Buses hoot in the distance
Approach imaginary final stops
Loaded with cargo and cacophony
Night is king every day
Light is illusion and ignorance
Hope is in abundance everywhere
That corner café and karaoke
That vegetable seller and cake mixer
Everything is vortex and vile
Spiralling in never ending repetition
Categories:
haemorrhaging, desire, life,
Form: Free verse
SPELLING TEST (there are over 30 words contained within this poem that are often
misspelt by the common man)
We all do on occasion temporarily misspell.
Amateur or connoisseur of language,who can tell?
Conscientiously piece together,peculiar bits of rhyme.
Manoeuvre letters gorgeously for others to refine.
Discipline and experience,all apparent to you and me.
Pronunciation not enough to spell linguistically.
Skilful realignment of the letters needs addressed.
Paralytic implications quintessentially expressed.
A ricochet of rhythm,sabotaged in a queue of verse.
Cacophony of tone with their spellings unrehearsed.
Is your spelling kamikaze,a haemorrhaging of ink.
A karaoke nightmare,communication on the brink.
So literary geniuses,i am all apologetic.
If my utterance is rabbled and my spelling is pathetic.
You see,many words i utilize in this poem i create.
Have been misspelt for centuries,the most common is
separate
Categories:
haemorrhaging, educationwords,
Form: Rhyme
The March song kisses mountain walls,
Canyons of breathing echoes,
Recording in their resumes
My whispered dialogue of farewells.
Farewells embodying reluctance,
The reluctance of renewed warfare,
Of the losing and fighting and winning,
But mostly of the losing, the dour forsaking.
A song of an ancient bronze god,
Cracked and coloured earthen ochre,
Sinewy legs planting shadows in the spring fields,
Muscled chest scarred with bloodied iron ribs.
A song of a virgin’s ambivalent regret,
Regret of surrender, of haemorrhaging sex into soil,
First love freely given, like the vestal Rhea Silvia,
To some sporadic god of death.
And a song that so clearly defines
My prayers for a future life,
Of love and peace avenged of neglect,
So reborn, reclaiming a better world.
Categories:
haemorrhaging, nature, time, song, love,
Form: Blank verse