Dunkirk

Time stretches

taut as

a drumskin,

each passing syllable

a vibrating membrane

with the,

longed for

hoped for

prayed for..

Time stretches

beyond the horizon

each immeasurable step

further from

the vanishing point

of the,

longed for

hoped for

prayed for..

Time stretches

until,

until,

looping in

on itself

deus ex machina

the longed for

the hoped for

the prayed for..

Deliverance

 

FOOTNOTE:
In May 1940, Germany advanced into France, trapping Allied troops on the beaches of Dunkirk. Under air and ground cover from British and French forces, troops were slowly and methodically evacuated from the beach using every serviceable naval and civilian vessel that could be found. At the end of this heroic mission, 330,000 French, British, Belgian and Dutch soldiers were safely evacuated.

 

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Posted in 20th.Century History, About Britain, Allegory, British History, Culture, Existential, Expression of Faith, History Poem, Identity, Nostalgia, Popular Culture, War | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Notes on a Meditation

On a bench in a park

in a distant corner of a city

a solitary figure sits

lost in a labyrinth of memories;

Thoughts traverse the long distances

between the days each one in turn

a palimpsest of the one before;

Perhaps if he recites the special words

in their correct order three times

quickly with his eyes shut,

then he’ll hear again the sounds of,

a harbour,

the keening and crying of gulls,

children playing in the sand;

Perhaps if he can make any word

mean anything at any given time

to anyone then he’ll see again,

the colour of summer parasols

twirling in rhythm to familiar

melodies from the bandstand;

a solitary figure sits in a park

on a bench in a distant corner of

a city lost in the memories of a labyrinth.

Posted in Allegory, Contemporary Society, Ennui, Existential, Homage to Borges, Identity, Magic Realism | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Disturbed

When you know that
there is someone there,
in the half-light of evening
behind the curtain
staring,
staring
at life as it ebbs
and flows outside,
outside;
Your time is fading
as they stare,
only time will tell
who is there,
staring,
staring
at your life as it
flows and ebbs
outside,
outside
where others pass and are unaware
that there is someone
behind the curtain
staring,
staring at them too,
but they don’t care,
it’s only you.

Posted in Allegory, Contemporary Society, Dystopia, Ennui, Existential, Horror, Identity, Poetry Noir | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Nocturne & Several Impossibilities

Of all the rooms in your parents’ house,

there is now one which

you’ll never enter again,

nor see within those

mementoes that once

signified your childhood;

There are now some days hidden from you,

that can no longer be retrieved

by searching for them in your diary;

And in the early hours of morning,

the words to a melody

that haunts your thoughts,

are now lost beyond recall

forever.

Posted in Allegory, Contemporary Society, Dystopia, Ennui, Existential, Homage to Borges, Horror, Identity, Magic Realism, Philosophy, Poetry Noir | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

An Empty Evening & Other Concerns

Of all your books in the library,
there is now one that
you’ll never read again,
nor reacquaint yourself with
the travails of its hero on whom
you copied your life
as a palimpsest;
Of all the faces
outside in the crowded plaza,
there is now one that
you’ll never see again,
either in the bright day time
nor in the evening as once
upon an enchanted one
when you first saw her;
There is amongst all of the
labyrinthine streets of the city
one you’ll never traverse again
that once led you into that wider world;
And in the morning to come,
your mirror will be expecting you,
in vain.

Posted in Allegory, Ennui, Existential, Homage to Borges, Identity, Magic Realism, Poetry Noir | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Weather Outlook

We’re wistfully watching whilst

waiting in Winter,

wondering when the warmer

weather will wind its way back.

Posted in Fun with words, whimsy, Word Jazz | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Notes on the Dreams of Dust

 

We gaze upon ourselves

 

as we die each day

 

the slow death of days,

 

the long days

 

of circumspection

 

unspoken remorse;

 

cryptic clues

 

to understanding

 

the vastness of

 

the futility of all

 

endeavour committed

 

so naively to an

 

enterprise of certain failure;

 

for some of us at least

 

the day is now over,

 

the dust settled.

Posted in Allegory, Contemporary Society, Ennui, Existential, Identity, Philosophy | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment