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Pete Bemment Poem
They giggled at the meeting.
A first for heath and safety.
A serious issue:
Leptospirosis.
Dirty rats only carry the disease,
Canoeing and spelunking,
With clean ones is ok.
The lady was doing grand,
In the face of grown men and women
At school for the day,
Serious technical folks
Bored or torn from fee-earning work
Out for a jolly in the conference room,
Out to disrupt, and delight to deride.
The core or the soul of the issue,
Was the ladies desire to prevent harm
To her fellow man
Was there a deep hurt
Or worse a loss
Powereing her enthusiasm
Through the waves of cynicism?
Copyright © Pete Bemment | Year Posted 2011
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Pete Bemment Poem
A road draws through
Straggly lines of black ragged trees
In a landscape under bleak eastern light
Past The Village Chippy
Colliers Row and the Working Men’s Club
Towards a hill up north
Where in the bitter biting cold
Once great blocks were hewn
In a greater industrial age
The scattered remnants remain
As dust in the memory
Here the refuse is laid to rest
The fluff of our lives
Is crawled upon by machines
As mist curls into the wind like smoke
And men pluck rags from the branches of trees
Copyright © Pete Bemment | Year Posted 2011
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Pete Bemment Poem
The Drive
I see the ghost-like hulks
Ready to cough into action
To move the heavy earth
Ere the misty air of morning brightens
But now it is with the night we move
The car and I
The road pulls and stretches
As our wheels grind it underneath
We pass with a low growl
Now a smooth ahhh
Now a vlit vlit vlit
Hurtling through the dark hours
Red lights tearing at the tarmac
Memories of a rave tuned passage
The blank lights find a path through the night
Taking me away from home
Copyright © Pete Bemment | Year Posted 2011
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