Sand Trickles

 

Borderline

or just plain bored of life

Is it that I'm tired of trying to find

answers tangled

in the riddle 

of forest in my mind.

The knots are tied tight

and I can't get them loose,

the binds are starting to bite.

into flesh. It’s no use.

 

Floundering over a river stretched wide

or am I straddling the two sides of my mind,

trying to keep all of the pieces inside.

It's all a jumble. 

Thoughts rumble

like trains through an underground tunnel,

on collision course

having missed the stop sign.

 

Am I becoming a new design, underlined

or just going out of my mind.

Did I lose the war,

the battle I fought

to keep a bit of sanity safely in store.

Did I fall off the wagon

into the path of an oncoming truck

or was it a storm of bad luck,

I become unstuck.

 

Did I fall out of line,

lose my place in the cavalcade of life.

Seems like I lost sight of the vital signs

Just a flatline and a piercing high-pitched tone

No neon to point my way.

Sand trickles,

building sandcastles

in my upturned hourglass.

marking the days

that pass

 

Sometimes only my notepad knows,

how far down I've fallen

and how I feel so low

but sometimes

it speaks of flowers,

in the colours of rainbows

and it's these days I cling on to.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Kyle

 

 

 

Serpentine Queue

 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The man in black

raps his rhythm

and on we trot.

Away from the land of the living.

Thud.

He stops.

Turns.

A mournful look on skeletal face,

gives each of us a mental embrace

and then walks on again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

 

In the distance

feint sights we see.

Up high

there is a stairway to eternity.

To the right

the pathway veers

to another destination.

One we don’t want to be.

 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The man in black steps forward

and then

arm outstretched points to the right.

Blocking the path. Blocking the light.

We embark alone from here on in.

Into the darkness. Waged in sin.

Whimpering sounds

from the huddled crowd,

combine with the screams

we are hearing so loud.

 

Traipsing through old bones and skulls,

contorted masks of agonised screams.

Horror in the looks the faces pull,

terror behind those broken dreams.

We walk on.

Alongside vultures and rats.

Circling on high and scuttering down low,

looking for a scraps

to feed their hunger.

We walk on.

Not wanting to be lunch for anyone.

 

Darkness enshrouds,

drops down like foggy clouds.

We can't see the pathway in front.

Hands on shoulders of the person ahead

to guide in each footstep we tread.

Seems less lonely this ride

when you have someone by your side.

 

The serpentine queue

snakes through the swampy marsh,

until we reach our destination.

A place, desolate and harsh

with gates standing tall and proud.

Our screams ignored 

no matter how loud.

 

 

Thanks for reading

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Every click, every book purchase, every like helps me to keep doing what I love.

 

Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle

Robin Hood

 

Like a back to front Robin Hood,

up to no good.

Stealing from the poor.

to give the rich some more.

First they said it was about our health,

more like a transference of wealth

from the have nots

to the already have lots.

 

It's a system that is inherently flawed,

you are asking greedy people

to ignore their instinct to hoard.

Wealth is supposed to trickle to those down below

but the rich just invest in bigger bowls

to stop the overflow.

 

Blaming it on a war now.

Missiles don't grow on trees

and we need these

to bring our enemies to their knees.

Funny then how It's us bowing down,

begging for scraps, cap in hand

whilst money burns

along with innocent lives in distant lands.

 

Pound takes a nosedive,

prices continue to rise.

Until we can't survive.

Where is the anger?

The sense of injustice?

Have we all become puppets

working to fill their pockets?

 

Seems like the whole system is broken,

money, nothing but a class token.

Profits soar, but still we must pay more.

Energy bosses, record breaking profits

yet all we see are losses.

Heating isn't a luxury

when we hit a deep freeze.

Having food on the table is a necessity,

so please

give us bread not austerity.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff 

 

Please follow the link for my books, videos and social media.

 

Every click, every book purchase, every like helps me to keep doing what I love.

 

Peace, Love and Poetry 

 

Kyle