A Poem a Day (103): Bloody rule

Bloody rule

We live to conquer, he says,

He informs us, whoever will listen.

This want is a parasitic scourge,

Blasting a hole through a country

Hungry for a hero and finding none.

Walls, bricks, mortar, where are we?

Is this placard too rotten to be read?

He bears a shield, but no sword,

Only words burned in a bitter pot

Offering daggers to paper people.

It bleeds. Something is rotten and

It is not the Bard. This voice lies

Instead, building barricades where

Only unity should dwell. His voice

Sours, his body sickens inside.

We live to conquer, he says,

But the letters are hollow and red.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 10, 2019

A Poem a Day (102): Past present

Written for 2minutesgo. If you fancy writing some flash fiction or poetry, and getting/giving feedback, or just reading other people's creations, head over to JD Mader's 2minutesgo website. It’s a great place to go and write whatever is in your head. Cheers.

Past present

We gather our skirts,

            Posies marking the fields

                                Like breadcrumbs.

     It drains

          Skies, kicking,

                 Bent in showers,

            Wrought iron

         Tearing.

                        These bars no longer suffice

                                    To hold,

                                    To bend,

                                To strip identity from a face,

                                                            To seek disgrace

                                                       In error.

The cattle low

In forest nights

‘Gainst an ever-distant light,

Playing without sound.

           

And still we stand

                                                As trees dismembered,

                                                            Branches scattered

                                                                                    On the wind.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, August 3, 2019x

A Poem a Day (101): The hog

Written for 2minutesgo. If you fancy writing some flash fiction or poetry, and getting/giving feedback, or just reading other people's creations, head over to JD Mader's 2minutesgo website. It’s a great place to go and write whatever is in your head. Cheers.

The hog

It’s the purple in the blue of the black,

The stillness in the heart of a silver shimmer,

A glance back to a simple moment, a turning,

A makeshift haze in a pattern of error.

It’s a recreation borne forth of boredom,

A destructive hobby akin to dissection, curious,

The parts newly bodied, fantastical and light,

A trip to the other in a brightness far too intense.

I see it charms you, this mirage of escape.

It will cover you in the fool’s garb for a minute

Or a bitter lifetime if you choose to wear it tight.

It’s a minefield, a maze of the fainthearted,

A collection of experiences sealed in unmarked jars.

Which will you choose and which to savour?

Is the lesson too great or too small for you? Can you tell?

Should I open the gate, let your disillusion spill through?

Walk in colours, speak only of true things, and exit

The grey, leaving it where it dies, distilled and broken.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, August 3, 2019