Posted tagged ‘Demise’

Untitled (Suggestions Welcome)

January 16, 2011

Who wins,

These wars between

Bloodied souls?

Between hating hearts and those,

Of no hatred at all?

ATTACK!

Screamed by whisperers unseen,

Warmongering mongrels.

Sharpened tongues,

Splice hearts and minds,

Asunder,

Lovers brutalized by the invasion,

Feral beasts ravage

Unprotected boundaries,

Connections savaged,

In search of witnessed destruction,

By name: Victory.

For what?

Who wins these wars

Of bloodied souls?

Fought for reasons unclear,

Phantasmal riches,

Momentary insolvency of a sound mind,

Secrets confided betrayed, reduced to

Ammunition,

Misuse, alive to spread as wildfire,

Abuse, born and reborn,

Echoed and repeated…

 

© Simon Bucknor

(A snippet taken from an untitled piece from ‘When Cold Air Rises’ and selected poems) due for release first quarter 2011

Any ideas for a title are welcome – I have about 7 at the minute LOL

 

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Underground and Broken Hearted

July 15, 2010

When the end comes

It comes on a slow train,

With doors tightly shut

Until it comes to an all too abrupt stop,

Re-creating you as your own prison guard

Not realising that you are the only

Lonely

Soul

On this abandoned train,

Looking around for company,

For those who started the journey with you

For that special soul who made angel-like promises

You now know are lies,

All gone,

And you know,

This train ain’t moving an inch,

‘Till you too depart.

Damn, It’s over?

But it had only just begun!

© Simon Bucknor

2010

Deep Thoughts, Too Late

May 24, 2010

The dirt must have been dry at some point,

Or they wouldn’t have been able to dig the grave,

Wouldn’t it have slid right back in?

Rolled like a toppling bus on a sloped hillside,

Delivering it’s passengers to their final destination

With or without pressing their Oyster card against the electronic reader,

Thoughts thunder, reverberating against the lined wood surroundings.

I went with a fight and still I fight now,

I want to wake up.

I only wanted to sleep for one night,

But time passed and arrived at my bedside,

My rage unbridled now my soul is on its way away,

I am alive only with anger, livid with my hands, with all of me,

But above all my gormless heart that refuses silence and peace.

A man sat in pain until he could no longer resist the urge to change his situation. He wanted rest, needed rest, craved rest.

He took a sleeping pill, it didnt work.

He took a sleeping pill, it didnt work.

He took a sleeping pill, it didnt work.

He took a sleeping pill, it didnt work.

Soon the pill bottle lay empty, but for the cotton wool.

Sleep came, the pain eased, then came the realisation that death had been invited and had arrived.

© Simon Bucknor

Help

February 5, 2010

It is in the quiet times

Of distress and solitude

That I need my solitude eroded

By another, by you

Whose arms are stronger than mine own.

When it is my face that cannot be seen,

Childishly squeezing my eyes tight

So that I am hidden in a youthful ignorance

I need to be discovered,

Rescued, taken to your safe place.

It is in the times of silent surrender

I need my shield and sword

Held high by someone, by another

Whose heart is less damaged,

Less resistant to healing than mine own.

When I am seen only as a shadow,

When I am too far gone,

When I can no longer scream

Nor wave my hands to attract your attention.

When, my words become drowned in tears

And the paint from the walls speckle the blood on my fists,

When my knees are tucked under my chin

My head hung under the weight of my life

When my feet will not bring me to your door

My phone won’t dial itself

My email won’t automatically read my mind

And send out a flare that will bring you running

When I am in these unchartered caves

And the level of the water is rising

And death draws near

I need you.

If you can see me when no one else can,

Hearing my burdens crush my spine

When my lips are unmoving

In these times of silent surrender

I need you

For you are my only help.

If it is too late,

You alone will know.

You won’t see my face,

Nor hear the murmurs of my mouth,

My scent will be a mere memory

I will have needed you,

And my need will have passed you by.

It is in this forever silence

That you will realise

You watched my demise.

© Simon Bucknor

05/02/10