Time in an industrial city,
A strange one....
To yourself, maybe dirty,
Maybe gritty. There are reasons,
The steel, the coal, and alas,
The Ships have gone, as has
The industrial age, an era
Bygone, bitter and twisted?
No, not me. However,
In a city as big as this,
(Glasgow).
There are many; some bitter
Some so bad, like piss and vinegar.
Divisions in the city -
They are green and they are blue.
Ah! But the redness of the left,
Remains pure and true.
The Clyde-the cities main artery
Was red and now blue.
Due to politics then,
In the era of manufacturing.
Now comes the environmental clean-up.
So now the city gets "green".
(this is not written by me, but a response to my poem about Glasgow
Showing posts with label Poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poem. Show all posts
Thursday, 10 September 2009
Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Glasgow
Rain live driving rods
Cats and Dogs
Football on a Saturday
Difference from all over
Crying child for their father after
“It waved above our infant might
When all ahead seemed dark as night”
An earlier night
The river turns red
Why is it never sunny blue?
Reflecting this railhead town
Rusting steel
Sending people away
Fighting darkness
Fighting for right
Against its polar
But yet, they didn’t return
Bombed for what they did
Tested like lab rats
“For theirs is a land of ‘Hope and Glory’”
Yet, yes, “Mine is the green field and the factory floor”
Can I ask a personal question?
Which are you on?
Where is labour now?
Not in my field
They’ve left, not me
Let us build from here!
Cats and Dogs
Football on a Saturday
Difference from all over
Crying child for their father after
“It waved above our infant might
When all ahead seemed dark as night”
An earlier night
The river turns red
Why is it never sunny blue?
Reflecting this railhead town
Rusting steel
Sending people away
Fighting darkness
Fighting for right
Against its polar
But yet, they didn’t return
Bombed for what they did
Tested like lab rats
“For theirs is a land of ‘Hope and Glory’”
Yet, yes, “Mine is the green field and the factory floor”
Can I ask a personal question?
Which are you on?
Where is labour now?
Not in my field
They’ve left, not me
Let us build from here!
Sunday, 6 September 2009
In the Blink of an Eye
In the blink of an eye, the world spins
On it’s axis, slowly and wisely,
Turning night into day and back again,
As from space no-one can be seen,
No building is there,
And nothing you can hear.
When back on earth they ants are king
Collecting and foraging for their daily bread
Walking a needle breath’s distance,
The march of 1 million lives, for protection
Is needed, from soldiers to workers
When needed the scorpion will be devoured.
On it’s axis, slowly and wisely,
Turning night into day and back again,
As from space no-one can be seen,
No building is there,
And nothing you can hear.
When back on earth they ants are king
Collecting and foraging for their daily bread
Walking a needle breath’s distance,
The march of 1 million lives, for protection
Is needed, from soldiers to workers
When needed the scorpion will be devoured.
Sunday, 30 August 2009
Poem
A trancendance between the good and bad of life,
A pebble is always held
For a special moment, a release,
Will come and has come
But still there is a retention, in case
Something better might come along.
What if something does not come?
And there is a permanent, grotesque vanity
Assured to some basic level.
But what if thrown away too soon?
You'll never know what could of been
Unhappiness will ensue to the defeat,
Of a non earthly soul.
A pebble is always held
For a special moment, a release,
Will come and has come
But still there is a retention, in case
Something better might come along.
What if something does not come?
And there is a permanent, grotesque vanity
Assured to some basic level.
But what if thrown away too soon?
You'll never know what could of been
Unhappiness will ensue to the defeat,
Of a non earthly soul.
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