Poetry – Two More Thought Collage

Surface Tension

Skilled boatmen skim the wetland
Bouncing from grass for a reason
Sand between the toes
A frozen wasteland.

Sense prevails in opposite directions
Not to mention the party with the broken crockery
A sense of disaster

Must last a lifetime of tissues and toilet capers
It’s in the papers
The magnet media hopping giant
Balancing on risky ledges.

Watch weights on hire; at the bistro
With scallops for starters; the bow tie man chucks a glance at the gallery
To aspire to the meaningful intellectuals.
With stains on their trousers;
And champagne corks that come to pass.

A jealous note; a third above the others
Left on the shelf with the other meaningless banter
Fried in bulls bladder
Turned to a crisp on the fast food counters
Just ready to kill them off
It will start with just a tickle and a cough
All gone
All to dust

March 1st 2019
Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright

Fresh Game

Packed up schemes in a box; far cry from a bitter tasting scar
Just a cloud gathering to mist over the seaside vista.

Chuckle as spiders fly in the sky;
Eight legs delight; absorbed in wishful thinking
Sinking to new heights.

Dreaming of heroes
That crash in to take revenge
Never meant to be realistic: in capes
Dressed for glamour and red carpets.

High heeled dames cracking walnuts
For snacks between intervals.
Speaking words.

Try to earn a crust
A must for a working journalist
Missed by the parking lot attendant
The one with a red face from worrying
Scurrying because he is late for breakfast

Yes he is on a copper coloured motorbike
With exhaustion problems
Burning scandals at both ends
Regretting the time he spends
Counting his neighbours’ wealth
Fired up instead of resting.

March 2nd 2019
Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright

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