Trees of (Urban) Life
Smothered beneath a sombre blanket of white lines and greying skies, eyes desensitised to your jaded complexion as our lives play out in stilted monochrome.
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Smothered beneath a sombre blanket of white lines and greying skies, eyes desensitised to your jaded complexion as our lives play out in stilted monochrome.
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
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 sky is ablaze. Waves of dirty yellows wash over the ground, as crimson smoke licks barren clouds that loiter jeeringly overhead. Fuel
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
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
Giant clams lie settled atop distant mountain peaks; their arid husks supressing the brackish smell of ancient waves that once bathed them in their shallow,
Across dank, shaded habitats of cosmic intent specks of light flicker into life. Emerging from chaos, filaments of matter weave their nets; unclassifiable structures that
The Earth has set the sky ablaze with glorious hues of orange. Strombolian explosions spew incandescent blocks, emerging from the Throat of Fire with biblical
The crest above the grassy plains dominates the outlook; its raw-boned peaks threatening to pierce the very fabric of the sky, as beneath its jutting