Long Slag Poems

Quelle vicende vissi fino in fondo.
Quando mi riappropriai della mia vita
Se questo è un uomo chiesi a tutto il mondo.”
Those events I lived through and through.
When I again impropriated of my life
If this is a...

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Tears for a Mother
Fears for a Father gone
Fate deals an unfair hand
The door to youthful joy closing
on adolescent shoulders imposing
grown up responsibilities instead

Eyes sadly deprived 
See not the panorama
of pursuing cloud shapes
that conceal a frivolous...

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...The wee ones simply want to be loved. 
Or at least get a glimpse from 
a {smart}phoned adult.
They wish for a sandbox with a playmate or two.
A warm peaceful bath
every bubble filled with 
a fairy...

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Our Maureen sits,
At an old kitchen table
She’d say: “I love you,”
If she were able
But she missed her chance,
And took to the bottle
She cried herself sober,
And ran back to her hovel

She ran her hand through her...

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I wrote a song last night,
Oh yes I did,
The bittersweet words came to me 
As fast as a locomotive train...

About a girl from the wrong side of town,
Shooting up smack to calm her down,
She was...

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Readers note; Wrote this story concept five years ago. Have an additional fifty pages if interest spikes.

The Charcoal Man; Part One

Cohen & I were sitting in class whilst Mrs. Knooman picked up a withered piece...

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moon …

beams that burn -
that turn my surgings to slag
my teeth to serrations,
hungering …
can those silly sentients not see the
verity in my veneration, you?
do they truly think it’s only art, 
only … verse?
that my blood...

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Hes ing homeless, you see him there don't ignore that starved groak glare,
You can see that he's got an empty cup in his hand he looks hungry and you're now aware, 
He has no shirt...

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From the tomb of the ancient bloom                            ...

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Apparently in time and space, the dark "House of the Empire of [Utter] Chaos" duly falls: Weakened injurious walls tumble into ruination and leave an untroubled, celebratory, sprawling horizon laughing all around.  There's no...

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Dreams frolic
  in the basket of the mind.
    Like Easter eggs on Sunday grass,
       pastel hands for slowing time.
      ...

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Let me tell you of a man in a roundabout way
As you casually straighten your tie
The first I heard of Wales 
Was in a public school in England
Knotty Ash to be precise
The school was at...

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Rise this True Republic, be not afraid,
Strengthen your Loins, arm yourselves and prepare to Invade,
That Marxist-Maoist Dragon! And its Satellite states,
Whom loves death and life hates!

From this Poet you have my grace,
To march for your...

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Like water, we are consistently in portability. 
We've generally been headed for our fate to fulfill 
Achieving understanding, information, and empathy 
At the point when we recover our habit of life-thrill. ?

After a phony gloat,...

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The calm and quiet serenity
embracing a string of fine buildings
and a hypocritical weather
which seems as if a quarrel manifested
between the day and the night
say it all as we enjoy the romantic stroll.

Our aim is highly...

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Hamilton, Ontario,
Is a steel making town.
You can hardly tell it, 
When the sun goes down.

The slagpiles glow as the big furnace throws,
Another batch of ore.
Big ingots sit on the railway cars,
Behind the big steel doors.

They...

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The fog of war
is lingering long on 
these golden amber grain shores

In the bar,
in the synagogue

Count the missing fingers
in the high school cafeteria tomb
Tally the tiny toe tags
in the elementary home room

Feel another barrel blast
of...

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At crushing depths 
Titanic rests 
Rusticles- like red ice 
hang from her corpse 
[the excrement of 
fathoms deep bacteria] 
And now technology
[ undreamed of when it was needed] 
peers at her 
[long submerged wreckage]
from slick...

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Moving from the short century to the dead century,
dead of passions and hopes,
of nerve-wracking expectations for a future of fiery suns
and of well-being, a palpable sign of progress.
A sign of history traversing obligatory passages
trampling over...

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The Sound of Colours
http://gregoryswisdom.blogspot.com.au/2015/07/the-sound-of-colours.html

Red sounds like blood dripping out through some severed artery,
Bursting out in a gush from a severed head, or limb, spluttery.
Or the hot breath of passion in the pulsing darkness, whispery.

Orange is...

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all you write about is them happy old days 
before hair wore thin turned white from grey 
rumour has it bad mouthing my name 
wise men stay away while you complain. 

what is it you...

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Once upon a time... a child celebrated
Colorful lights of Crackers...
Fluorescence of Fireworks.
The black powder bonfires in sky 
Illuminated  his darkness ..
Sprinkling showers of acoustic pops.

And then...
Demons ignited black powder to enslave his mind.

His cranium...

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Slaughter amongst the slag heaps
Bodies bowed over barb wire
Screeching, screaming
artillery arching above
soon to descend
amputating limbs
shattering skulls
blood and brains
splattering stains on
comrades too close
mixing with the mud

Grappling with grenades
Supplies short
London, Lancashire
and Lancaster lads
battling like beasts within
that Hohenzollern...

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Long Lost-Godless fire breathing dragon Land.
Tiananmen tanks rolling over your fellow man.
Glean away your newborn daughter's sheen.
Scumble the villagers, drown out their dreams.
Build plastic war islands- earth devouring dams.
The once red humble gem has become...

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Right Hand Twist
With a twisted sexuality like that
Anything was possible

Especially when you were called Zenky
And were from Oldham

The most deprived town in England
But that doesn’t matter

For only personal attributes do
He has a big four inch...

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