Poem of the Day – Gripped in Seasons

Gripped in Seasons

 

Picked in singing yellow; an outing to a window

Seen now as a public relation guru

Sat under a fee; questioning the latest target

Set inside an answer: sheet twisted and tangled

Burning up the budget

 

Soil dripping from the gutter

Utter disgust that the birds kept waiting until winter

 

Stolen dishes crash in unchallenged cacophony

A lot of me placing scorn on continued blaming.

 

Gristle chews to squeeze out the marrow

A sparrow picks up the hawk sized breakfast.

 

Scrappy iron gathering rust

At best a manoeuvre

 

A third of a nightmare

A trip to purgatory

 

Still can’t be beggars

Stirred

A third of a nightmare

 

Sheet shaken before bedtime

To risk the crumbs being ingested

Festering in the jar

 

Bar stool floating

All the others judging and gloating

What can change

Just the others are doting

 

Creases freshly ironed in the heat

In the moment

Stuck to the face of time

Left like a guest on fire

 

 

September 8th 2017

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright

paturnerlee.com

Tags: poem, Poetry, Thought Collage