Bad poetry, or an experimental poem? INEVITABLE

Inevitable

By Jonathan Traynor

Rampaging hordes of delivery cyclists
Speed to foist fast food heart attacks
Upon the unconsciously inept couples
Their kitchen somewhere to make tea
Drinking cheap wine, silent conversation
Picking over chilling delivered pizza

Dodging the cyclists, dropping head down
To avoid the beggars’ eyes, those let down
By state, family, friends and themselves
Blinking in the light of shops doorways
Luxuriating on what credit card debt buys
Coffee with the girls, beer with the lads

Football, fashion, it’s easy to criticise and
It’s easy to label, labelling thyself too as you
Shout into your social media echo chamber
Never thinking, words can rebound, brought
Into light of judgement as you label them
And they type to make sure you are labelled

Flayed flaccid fifty fighting to live as a fleeting
Life flies by, counting wishes never fulfilled
Faded nights drag on, hand on phone as the
TV drones, new hips aching as the invisible
Inevitable spectre of dementia sneaks its
Silent path towards what is left of hopes

Lost on the death bed, staring into white light
Bled of hope, ambition, desire and dreams
Distant voices, ghostly faces, memories that
Muddle up what is left of the mind, today or
Yesterday a hand, unknown, reaches out to
Witness the last breath fading, the light ends

 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Belfast author Christopher Owens unveils haunting new novel Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown

Image
  Remember the date - February 16. Why? read below: Acclaimed Belfast-based writer  Christopher Owens  returns with his most searing and psychologically incisive work to date,  Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown  — a novel of fractured memories, parallel lives, and the silent aftermath of trauma. Set against the liminal no-man’s-land of a diverted flight into Dublin Airport, the book follows two strangers,  Jake  and  Roibeard , who never meet, never speak, and never realise how closely their internal storms mirror one another. As each man confronts the shadows of his past — the wounds that shaped him, the choices that scarred him, and the future that awaits once they finally reach Belfast — Owens crafts a dual narrative that is both intimate and monumental. The cover of Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown Soviet Hotel Dressing Gown  explores how trauma lingers in the body, how cities carve themselves into their inhabitants, and how two lives can run parallel...
Read more

Awaiting the Court of the Damned - a wee bit of micro fiction

  Awaiting the Court of the Damned By Jonathan Traynor   Her hand reached to the gravestone. Just that brief touch brought an unbidden smile.   The dead lights of the cemetery drew her ravens. They cawed at the illumination. She drew back from the grave marker, inspecting her hand, still stained scarlet from his blood. Her ravens had ripped his eyes out. With a scream of glory her black blade had cut his heart from his ribs.  Tomorrow evening… she would desecrate his body and laugh. Consequences? That was for tomorrow’s court of the damned. She looked forward to its judgement.  
Read more

Micro-fiction: Song of Death

Image
Song of Death By Jonathan Traynor She slumped against the cooling corpse of her dragon. Her left shoulder aching from the axe blow on her armour, an arrow stuck in her leg. Her traitor brother’s body lay in front of her, his sorcery silenced. Spawn of a tyrant, saved by her queen, her mother. She stood in front of the last revenant rebels. Six of them in front of the piled bodies on the accursed battlefield.  They wanted to kill her, the defiant one. Her sword was still in its hilt. Pushing herself upright she screamed to the heavens. They ran towards her. The first fell to her last axe. She drew her restless black blade. It sang its song of death. The revenants fell one by one to its song. She would be queen of this damned land. And set it free. ENDS All my published books are available here .
Read more