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Best Poems Written by Shaun Hull

Below are the all-time best Shaun Hull poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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12
Details | Shaun Hull Poem

Death Row

morning breaks like a crack shot through bone
the needs are frightening that i must possess
this hunger in my womb

head out to trenches
crawling on concrete blood
tanks and diesel
mortars and pestle
clouds of promise
blind my way
the kings in control
but the ghosts
are there
and their
and they’re
in hoods of faith
to cut the cord

steal down the path of deaths holy trail
hide from satin's cape in tombs with idols they set ablaze
craters of remains hold pieces of flesh and baby’s breath
wretched with veil wrapped tight to skirmish no eyes
reaching sanctuary for my supply
around and around
to face it again 
and again
and

again
past bloody sheets
car parts for limbs
sparkplug fingers
transmission torsos

naked in hells kitchen
i die for
daily bread

today life goes
and goes
not

within me
and
without me

down a 
baghdad
death
row

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2017



Details | Shaun Hull Poem

Black Mother

black mother

the white of day stains your
painted dress
the black of night turns
razor sharp
feet that wear flaming coals
a soul that bleeds
outside and in

where trees bear crimson fruit
as roots full bore
hypocrisies drill so deep
to dig her earth
still plough the surface
clinging vines of apartheid

how much she suffers
raped and ravaged 
again and again
strijdom
malan
verwoerd
names that stain
her southern land

g7 dead zones from 48
and cape town clearings
with
sharpeville apologies
still 
segregate

now die 
and die 
and die

awake
by fate arise

friends of earth

minstrels of life 

cast a new play
sing for the future
move for the past
turn now
in loves instance

an old face 
a new name
an old shadow 

seeds to grow

white sister

black brother

white father

black mother

african 
Heart 

african
soul

=z=

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2018

Details | Shaun Hull Poem

Ground Zero

i seem to remember
a sunroof sky
full of kanji and silk
wisteria dancing across the wind
my daughter laughing in that so saturated face
as friend and i sit down to a morning game
i swore i would take advantage of his saké rejuvenation

i seem to remember
the taste of my wife's lips
so sweet a touch of harmony
quickly replaced by the happy wet kiss of my child
giggling so to almost annoy
this fierce competition

my new pocket watch stating
with such fine western precision
you have time to champion
it's only
8:13

i seem to remember
wind chimes singing with laughter
and graceful chatter
that so rose to cacophony
as i anticipate movement

in this whirl and rash
of mans humanity

i seem to remember
a distant sound of wings
floating across this eastern sky
of eyes squinting to see

and my child suddenly
turning white

the brightest white
the hottest white
the darkest white

i shall never see… 

i can't seem to remember
where i left my soul

i think it's where my shadow
left a halo
burned into the ground

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2017

Details | Shaun Hull Poem

Bring the Night

bring to me the night
on the heels of mislead humanity
grotesque clouds with ghostly black fingers
linger across a blood red sky

trails of hidden suffering
rise to greet the soft glow of the moon
oblivious to the cry’s of the child

lost without parent
guarded by the wire
whose electric smile
invites a means to an end

the dreams
these dreams
that remind me
of what i left behind

the dreams
these dreams
that lead me
screaming towards
the light

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2017

Details | Shaun Hull Poem

Last of First's

tic…tic…tic…

part 1…

today is your last day
a last of firsts…
all is the first ever done
on a first…last day
the crimson jumps
the pigs in their pen
drenched in deaths sweat
acquiesce in time…
a first for them to…
on this…your first
last day…
lonely conjugal visit  
callous is the hand
toothbrush
comb
shit…
shower
shave
tic… tic…tic
visits from the cosmos pray…
with christ on a stick
a requisitioned incongruity 
pomp and circumstance
and fine cuisine
new clothes,
new hair,
a fashion plate…
with chips and cracks
like the broken faces
through one way glass
old books missing parts 
empty chapters long dead
virgin white and red
raped…torn…battered… 
your best work 
tic…tic…tic
the erudite apes
behind poison ink
dipped in their pustule
with polluted pens
murder for peace
so vomit death
today
just for you
on this…
your first…
last…
day…
a 
duality…

part two…
                   
on the doorstep they wait
dance as fast as you can
while footsteps jangle
songs of sacrifice 
and one special key
that bears your name
it’s hard to dance 
when death has the lead
a pill for your soul
from  the captain  to be
pretty little blue orb
now try and relax
your bitch is near 
tic…tic...tic..
a pestilential whore
to parade your flesh 
to mans killing fields
scrubbed clean and bright
and lemon fresh
a palmolive tomb
how thoughtful they
on this
your first 
last day 
tic…tic…tic…
hells kitchen awakes
infinite, god damned
screaming malevolent imps
f_ing bloody sheets
the steel cages roar
a crown to wear
as demons chant
a three-legged beast
dead ears unseen
your turn to ride 
mans death machine….
tic…tic…tic……

……bang……….  

no more last days…

for you…

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2017



Details | Shaun Hull Poem

Tomorrow Morning

tomorrow morning
i believe i shall
or maybe i shan’t
but if i shall 
i will share me
with my friend zoë
if i still am able to share
tomorrow morning
i would wish to write a poem to zoë
if my chary digits oblige
broken and torn
how awkward they present
they laugh at my challenge
they'll cry so when put to
“good use"
tomorrow morning
i should tend zoë’s hair
if zoë’s hair still lives
on top of her head, silly
or perhaps
tomorrow morning
i shall rise
with the smoke of souls
i would take zoë
if zoë is able
if i can find zoë
she may have already
melted
tomorrow morning

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2017

Details | Shaun Hull Poem

The Feel of Rain

lights coming on
papa being dragged from me
mamma and ahava crying
where is daniel
everyone cries and so now do i
because they are frightened
now so am i

the train, why are we here mamma
are we going on a trip
yes sara we are going on a trip
where to mamma
i don't know honey
please hush

the darkness and light filter through the cracks
like ghostly fingers
they change shape incessantly
the smell 
a sweet scent
the sound of the tracks
driving us mad

still the crying
i am quiet now
mamma shakes
ahava cries
daniel dies

the dogs and the screaming
we to the left we go
with mamma under a pretty hedge
clinging as we round the corner
to take a shower and get cleaned up
oh the water will feel so nice

off to the shower
the doors close
the crying…the crying
why is everyone crying to take a shower
oh how lovely the water shall be

where is the water
i feel the rain
the smell of wheat

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2017

Details | Shaun Hull Poem

My Cat

i bought a lawn mower from my neighbor
the grass is very tall
my cat loves to run around in there
it hasn’t worked since  

my neighbor is a lawn mower mechanic
he works far away
he doesn’t have a cat
the grass is still very tall
i wonder if i should buy another mower

i’ve not had good karma from such a device
maybe i will ask my neighbors advice
my cat avoids the neighbor

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2017

Details | Shaun Hull Poem

In Emotional Abyss

when i say stop
i lie awake
to feel myself cry to myself
first we say to each we love
and find a lie in between

fare that 
fare
i like that word

it makes me grizzle
even when the coffee rings awake
you with that staring at me..

oh, i’m supposed to do what then
i’ll make us a bloody mary
only for us, besides
i’m on my period

and as always
you non-relent..
and i go more 
than three doors down..

to knock again

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2017

Details | Shaun Hull Poem

Portrait

Portrait

          a world revolves around comfortable thoughts
             words that have essence only for you
                pictures of reds whites and
                            sometimes blues
                      laugh past their unclean 
                            unlocked door

             a portraits face in patterns abound
                           words come in 
                    they leave without a trace 
                             to speak not
                               with you

              remembering nothings but sometimes 
                             somethings
                 we walk within paint by numbers
                         grayed long ago

                     wave to the shadows
                          slowly fading by
                  dance with such melodies
                       you feel them sing

                       swept into shelters
                         with frozen walls

                    a grandfathers clock
                    a sentence within
                    a time hello 
                    a wave goodbye

                        a sad and smiling 
                           feign repose

Copyright © Shaun Hull | Year Posted 2018

12

Book: Shattered Sighs