Some new poems

Amazingly enough, I've been rather creatively inspired of late! Have managed to churn out the following poems in a remarkably short space of time. Thought I'd get them jotted down here if anyone was interested ...


Templates

As I gaze at my shadow,
Stooped and quiffed over the railings
In the 2am pitch,
I flick ash into the midst of it,
And picture, in it, your face;
Dissolving, soggying, disintegrating.
Ceasing in the cold.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Txt politix

For months,
Replies meant everything:
In a few words,
Well,
Countless abbreviations,
Lived emotion, promises, and lust.

A mis-sent message
Revealed your game.

And now it no longer matters
That I’m the last one texting,
Because
I know how to use apostrophes.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Haiku

2 inches of snow:
The whole world collapses, and
Men think their point proved.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

2010:
Brought in with wine slugs, pizza,
DVDs, and solitude.
Infinitely preferable
To hogmanay hype and
False pivotal seconds.

I think of
The numerous smug couples
Deceived.
Picture new year kisses
49 seconds after
Big Ben launched 1000 replicas
At his feet.

How many new starts,
How many promises,
Vows, apologies, and personality transplants
Are being declared
One mili-second after another,
In the pursuit of midnight?

The thought of robotic embraces,
Like now then now then now
Diffuses my thoughts of you,
And who you’re kissing.

It’s not me who’s being conned
By lines, fizz, and fucking Tesco’s time settings.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Wanted:
Fake in an apron.

American wannabe required to spout:
‘Hi, I’m (enter name here), I’ll be your waitress today,
I hope you have a lovely time’.

Must be willing to whore soul out
For the sake of rent, stuffed pasta,
And Arden Shakespeares.
All for minimum wage, and 60% credit card tips.
(Not including washing time of uniform:
Because white is the obvious colour for uniforms
For an Italian restaurant).

Spaghetti sauce wastage will not be taken out of your wages.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Diagonal zips
Attest.
The intersection of conflictions:
A complicated seamwork
Defending silence and sweeping.

I take a practice shot.
Jagging a nail
So fast I can see the white line,
For the length of a second,
Across the ‘shade 03’ expanse
Blanketing tangible phalanges.

Considering
The density of nerves in the tips
(Like pylons:
Electrified, charged),
My fingers flatten.

I imagine this being my excuse:
The paradoxical blunting
Inherent in a razored motion.

And it doesn’t matter that I’ve never seen this through:
Bleeding can be stifled; scars fade, blades blunt.

A cathartic multitude of personal signatures
Deface a pale canvass,
Etched in invisible ink.
Blood only visible though blue filters:
Mapping out the
Pen-stained cartograph of my hand.