The Poetry of...
"Blackheart"
Alone
Alone
Alone in the dark
Without a spark
Of hope.
Searching
Searching for peace
Surrounded by soldiers
Of vanity
Leaving
Leaving the game
Proud to be one of
The losers
I know if I try
Place all things aside
Success will arrive
Solitude
Here on my pedestal
To see what's beneath me
Head hangs in shame
With failure
Untitled
Knock, Knock, Knock at the door.
Harvey's jaw drops straight to the floor.
It must be Mother, the vicar perhaps
Harvey must clean and tidy these scraps
Surely it cannot be three o'clock yet
Its Mother and Father, they're coming I bet
Now he's resigned himself to the fate.
He shouldn't have started the cleaning so late.
Before he can budge, they've opened the door.
The first thing he sees is the dirtiest paw.
It isn't his Mother, the Vicar or Dad
And so there's a reason we all can be glad.
Its Willie, the puppy, come home from his run
He's hoping to see cleaning Harvey has done.
The sight of the dog makes him think that instead
He'll spend the next thirty five minutes in bed.
Jamboree
Busy streets, exciting times
Pretty people and catchy rhymes
Lost for words, Tongue is tied
Fear grows with every stride
Everywhere, things to do
Full up, every portaloo
Salesman seem to swarm like flies
selling their crud, coated with lies
If I'm so lost, then why is it
Strangers are the ones that fit
I sense familiarity
It simply makes me want to flee
If I should stumble, trip and fall
I would, then, feel so very small
They all know how to handle this
They jump around and hug and kiss
At last, I sense, escape is near
I chase it down and grab its rear
Its waiting, now, to take me home
Where then I can be free to roam
For, just in time, I've managed to nab
A stinking dirty taxi cab
Copyright © 2001 "Blackheart"
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Email: jonathan@poeticjustice.co.uk
