"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Carved from the swamps, we dredged your home to make way for our own; squaring the deal with metals that were no longer precious. Their caustic arrival painting our castoffs in violent hues of indelible ink; a technicolour of toxicity that leached across the landscape. Slithering through the sediment like …
Secluded worlds hide secrets from our cold, prying eyes, suffocating starlight in the heat of their embrace. Lost beneath the contrails of a smoggy methane haze, we conjure up impossible visions; draping distant lands in sparkling, precious mists. Ruby clouds dissipate, buried in the plausibility of every grain …
Beneath cloudy, frigid skies outcrops of fertilised laughter glare knowingly from sneering seas; their steady retreat stained by the crooked smile of those who know the joke, has gone too far. We trace lines in the filth, dowsing for patterns in droppings; faces contorted to manic snarls. Monochromatic waves ripple …
Beneath Diana’s pale embrace, two moths shimmer in the starlight; waltzing through moonbeams, as they flicker across the cool embrace of noon’s forgotten corsage. Suffused with smoky browns their earthy tones glimmer in the gloom; bellies sticky with the latent gratitude of their unexpectant hosts. Timidly, they retreat into the …
The sky is ablaze. Waves of dirty yellows wash over the ground, as crimson smoke licks barren clouds that loiter jeeringly overhead. Fuel litters the floor, its perilous potential scattered absently across the detritus; the cost of its appearance obscured by the multitude of our transactions. Silhouettes …
Spat out in the aftershock of atoms that we forced apart; their separation strategized for the marriage of our consumptive convenience. Radioactive entrails that litter our collective consciousness, throbbing with the poisoned potential of a thousand artificial suns. We clutch at phosphorescent binbags, our tainted hands digging through ancient beds …
As chimney stacks spew forth our tainted offerings of industrial excrement, dilapidated ventilators strain to suck poison from the saturated veins of concrete obelisks; their glass facades opaque to the inevitability of our subsidence. Inside these effigies of excess numbered commodities sift spreadsheets like Sisyphus, smiles met with nodding …
Baptised in artificial waters, connective tissues rejoice in pre-set harmony; their purpose reborn as receptive intercessors that ache to vicariously denounce the darkness. Transplanted behind shaded spots of vacant eyes the hazy light seeps through, its familiar brilliance skirting over resettled skin stretched taught as a drum; vibrating with …
Ageless giants glide beneath the waves, their stunted snouts sagging coyly at the impertinence of our horology. Careless in its caducity, one swims too close to shore; shallow waters now shallow grave, with aged secrets ripe for reaping. Peeling back the skin to reveal rivulets of cartilage that glisten like …
Peeling back the blackened veins of ancient crust, forgotten fragments whisper soggy secrets. Their enforced exile loosening tongues that now bubble over with stories of impossible waterways – teeming canals that once sang with the sound of a thousand babbling brooks. Beneath a sterile gaze, these rusted reservoirs divulge …