This is one of my ranting/protesting poems, where the world’s weird ways and woes are vividly pictured in my dreams/nightmares … (June 2019) … Or maybe my ‘Alien Back Pain’ has me angry and grumpy, and I am just desperate for some interplanetary respite.
My Alien Eyes Have Seen Enough
I’m scattering stardust, upon sorrow and grace
Tip toeing through a desert of dying tulips
Before my species vacate this miserable place
Blasting away from here, in my Itmims* spaceship
Flying back into the depths of dark space
To regenerate and revive, from this trying trip
Sadly, we gathered nothing of any value
From this warring human race
Their radioactive sky, was once bright blue
Vast oceans are full of their own waste
They breathe thin air made of sticky glue
And the earth they walk on, is a garbage tip disgrace
Their concrete graveyards, are the warlords database
Women and children, dead, casualties of religious lunatics
My alien eyes have seen enough, I’m leaving without a trace
Political gamer’s never learn, they’re still reusing old septic ice-picks
Another repost while I am laying down with my sore back … written when I had my third stroke, and I was laying in hospital 31st January 2019 …
Apologies to my readers and followers for not blogging and responding to your articles with my usual zest, my debilitating back pain doesn’t allow me to sit at my computer … hopefully the situation will improve soon.
Hello dear readers and followers, I now write for “Coffee House Writers” magazine on a fortnightly basis, and my poem“A Weloming Roar”, is in this week’s edition of Coffee House Writers Magazine. … please click on the link below to read my poem, at Coffee House Writers. >> https://coffeehousewriters.com/a-welcoming-roar/
A poem from early in year, while I am here laid up in bed with a sore back
Day One
Before Day One
I wished upon a star That the milk-bar Was not too far away My life’s bread was crumbling My weathered hands were funmbling Witnessing the last supper was humbling
Day One
There, beyond the darkness Out in the universe From a million light-years away Under an alien’s microscopic frame We would all look the same
After Day One
I wished for the dust to settle Then waited for rusted gunmetal To mature into household kettles Whistling hallelujah to new sunflower petals
Ivor.Plumber/Poet 