The London Verses No.5

 Quickly written today… hugely flawed etc. I’m not fishing for compliments, honest. Just enjoy.

   

The M25

A 20-mile grey necklace-

or noose-

Asphyxiating-

Enclosing the metropolis 

A quiet belt that can’t be cut loose?

   

Blandly anonymous suburbs scream

(Consuming as a vacuum for dreams) 

Stanmore on a Sunday-

Middle-class mercs-

And the bleak coda of Collingwood

or forgotten Finchley 

   

Hard shoulders- 

And cold shoulders-

Cadaver washed upon the South Bank

Kisses of thanks-

And hugs of grace

Draconian measures

Pepper spray-

and mace-

Empty office space –

on the Euston Road

and one Bedroom abodes –

in Wapping.

Sighs of the City

jrWrinkles of the City - Robert Upside Down

Air Raid Sirens harmonise
Diaphanous sighs
Whispers of Secrets I once knew
And Streets that once blew.

Secrets in Streets that finally flew.

 

Sublime disorientation

A weekend of detached vacation

Glide like steadicam

Over the wrinkles and the cracks

Will Politicians

And Philosophers know?

Fastidiously documenting everything

That’ll crumble

And won’t come back.

 


London Verses No.4 (Part 1)

More soon.

‘An as-yet-unidentified politician’s spleen  

was found scattered across Camberwell Green’

Sources say 

‘Were they payed?’

 

Paparazzo voyeurs in Vauxhall

Hopelessly enthralled

Trigger happy with telephoto lenses 

Debased men point and click 

For pocketfuls of sen-sen