Category: poetry
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To Hell and Back
Defenceless Head in hands, he stared out the dirty window. Manacled feet clanked as he shifted for a better view in the fading light of fields where the dusky figures bowed by years of bad food, ‘sleep and deep unhappiness. Boss man raised his anger filled voice Slapping her down for slaving slowly. —————————– Seth,…
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Possession
Possession and freedom The flames were warming as darkness closed in. She fidgeted as she waited. Tonight was her’s and she nervously rehearsed the words of her hurt and harm and healing. Settling, the group expectantly turned, some yawned and others looked at her, waiting, waiting for her. Mary moved and motioned to her to…
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Alliterative Politics.
Politicians Alliterative Politics Groans and grief and greying out of guarantees, pouring in of power that puts politicians paramount as they sort through mail, campaigns and tweets and still they stick to the stultifying straightjackets of policies, proudly pushed past pleading public. Burdens bearing down the battered poor as they struggle to stave of sickness,…
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FGM
Momma ! Stop! Don’t do it! Momma ! Stop! Don’t do it! Her scream tore through the fraying fabric of a life already lived as a less than. Evil rose up and the women carried on, carrying on the devil’s work to parody a full life given by God cut and sculpted by humanity. ———————————– Goodness arose…
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Addiction
Shambling down the narrow lanes he carried his world, broken long ago by words and shortages and grumbles, daily struggling but friendly encouragers, urging use of drugs and alcohol, shoved him along the paved road that battled to bury the pain and led to a hell where, craving the numbing money, facing the beatings, and…
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Assault and despair
It wasn’t on purpose, she saw that. It was her fault and she shouldn’t have said it, and now Could her body go on taking the bruising; Her soul the battering, And her heart the fear? He smiled his forgiveness and said he wouldn’t do it again and again and again, But she really should…
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Death
The impact of death. I cook something tasty most nights, he said, Treats and trials and she sits on my shoulder and tells me ‘You batty bugger!’ You should have chopped and fried til they are soft, and he goes on lightly listening to her cheery censorship which was absent in the old life, but…
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Too Late!
——————————— The flowers wilt on the wracked earth, there are no buzzing bees, temperatures soar untempered, children stare out of thin slits of curtains, closed against the searing sun. ———————————————- It was an emergency, now it emerges change was too late. Nothing growing on the farms where water has long been gone. ——————————— The flowers…
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Nazanin
The Prisoner She looks through the bars, her intelligence dulled by repetition of the daily chores and cheerlessness. Tears fall as tortured thoughts of her child growing without her loving touch. a glimpse now and again never enough as someone else charts her child’s precious years. Politicians mutter, What can her family do…
graceatthemargins 