george-atkinson
Scottish
I have left school and hope to (emphasis on hope) study engineering at university next year. / However I am a happy reader and wrote for our schools ancient and honourable poetry society (PotSoc), as its only resident poet mathematician. / Writing poems on the daily slog on the train is one of my favourite parts of the day. I have actually read rather little poetry, but I like to think that it leaves me uncorrupted from copying someone else's style - this is probably because I am a fool. / Forgive me if my grammar is poor or my method of writing is mechanical - it's how I am wired! but regardless I hope you enjoy my poems and continue to write better ones for yourselves
Sand wheezes over the dunes
a fiery sea unfurled
the suns wrath slowly consumes
the last life left in the world.
...
In shade a sidewinder glides
out of a human skull
the home in which it confided
would have basked in the lull.
...
A turbine blade protrudes nearby
turning slowly... to rust
the cause it fought for eats it alive
hope crumbled to dust.
...
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
She ascends the plane. The plane might ascend.
She immediately comprehends
How on earth will she stifle her cries
''You won't be on earth'' her head replies.
The metal box purrs and roars to life
She doesn't have time to say her goodbyes.
...Tempestuous earthquakes in the sky
Preposterous thoughts infect the mind
Of falling, falling through the clouds...
Fear take hold and pulls her down...
Faster, faster into the ground...
Awakes. Inhales. A bawling baby fails
To lift her dropping spirits. Exhales.
Relief. No mask required to breath.
The hell that dwelt inside her mind
Was deeper than what's beneath.
Complimentary napkins to the head
On board cardboard digested
Fear is weaker but it clings
Like a constrictor on the wing
'Snakes on a plane' she thinks
A smile that's almost willing
Surfaces, but the plane shakes it away.
Smiles are reserved for better days
For now she's bolted to the chair
She returns to the nightmares...
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 7:50 PM UTC
It's so bright
You can't see behind you
You can't fight
for your life, they'll find you
They'll find you
I am a needle
Pop goes my head
like a balloon in a haystack but I'll wet it I'm feeble
They'll see you they'll see you they'll see you...
Hide for your life
Run forest
run to the forest to the middle don't fiddle
don't MOVE don't make a sound
even if they're not there they'll HEAR YOU
so don't flinch when the vines choke
you stick like gum but don't swallow
they'll eat you you're hollow you
run like the wind... you're gone...
In your lair, your pit of despair they can't reach you, you're safe and they can't crack you,
It's so dark.
They can't see behind you
The tables are turned, their cards fall to the floor
Burn them and rejoice.
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 2:51 PM UTC
The man with the beard and/or a hat
(Although it isn't cold)
Walks past the man with none of that
For he is not so bold.
The pretty girl ignores her dates
She's plugged them all away
Together they are separate
Together they're astray.
The man who stares at screens all day
A slave to the machines
His routine route he can't escape
Even in his dreams.
The man with the Windsor knot and suit
Looks down on them like ants
He would crush them under his foot
If God gave him a chance.
The girl who holds her fathers hand
Thinks they all look the same
She sees the man with nothing and
Ask's him for his name.
''I have no name, for I have nought''
The predictable reply
She thought that he had more, no doubt
Than all these passers by.
For the man is the rock that shapes the land
Embedded in the ground
Around him move the grains of sand
That try to tear him down.
The girl, like other pebbles, drown
In the unforgiving sea
Her father dragging her back down
To our society.
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 7:16 PM UTC
You!
Hey.
Good-day.
I presume.
Pessimistic flu.
Hypocritical to annoy.
The poor man's Rolls Royce
-is the pessimists one good choice.
They live with fragility,
-unwilling rigidity,
-and rarely tranquility.
Some weep at morbid memories,
-others at faithless fantasies,
-do they (or you?) see the precipices
-between the then, now and will be?
So what if you take a blue bruising back-slap
-for your lacking, a juicy reminding
-for regretful whining, lifetime timing,
-miraculous hopes of a future shining
-because you're wasting your time
-and not even minding!
So listen, or in duller cases, read;
-thoughts are naught but mares and dreams,
-man made mind transparencies
-will's the sum of immediacies
-like waiting in your station
-but you're deciding the destination
-your journey fundamentally what you make it
-it's simple but pessimists are complicated
-would you not trade freedom for a life you hated?
Pessimistic man, forget it
Ranting is silly - you just don't get it
You didn't see the golden beauty I bet it
Gold is copper to you anyway
What would Fibonacci say!
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 5:38 AM UTC
He lived for
Fought for
Suffered for
And died for
Peace
And he will rest in it forever more.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 6:11 PM UTC
Monochrome buildings pave the way,
It's another monotonous day at the office.
And so starts my favourite routine
The required daily dose of caffeine
Sickly sweet sugar supplements
Occasional visits to the gents
Where in the tranquility
I can ponder what I'd like to be...
...Living so high the clouds are the sea,
No responsibilities!
I don't have to dress,
The butler can take care of the mess.
Jacuzzis, cruises, friends who I choose,
Admiring reflections in gold plated loos',
But perhaps I digress...
...Back to reality I guess.
If time flies when you're having fun,
Then pressing keyboards all day long
Makes every second crawl a marathon!
But I can multitask a bit.
I can breath and walk and talk and sit
While simultaneously pressing a button
And at the same time doing next to nothing!
But even then I can scavenge my mind,
And if I'm lucky I will find
That little paradise of mine...
...And faster than the eye can see,
I am covered in girls in bikinis
Whilst crashing Lamborghinis
Into modern art reflections,
Of my many types of perfection.
And I'll roll out, unharmed and afar
There's a feast for my eyes like caviar...
And if you find that hard to believe,
My imagination comes for free!
So I understand your private confession
That I must have the perfect profession.
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 6:19 AM UTC
I couldn't deny that I might not be confused.
I hope that that sentence doesn't make you bemused.
Then why do I write it?
Because I do as I choose,
I choose to ***** lose then cruise,
I thought you knew the news
That I have nothing to lose?
Then who are you to accuse
That I rhyme too often?
There, that should soften
The blows don't bruise.
If only I knew
How to Stop.
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 2:17 PM UTC
Pinch yourself and don't feel pain
Earth bound shackles held you down
But strawberry fields let go.
See your childhood love again
Feelings lost can here be found
Play together in the snow.
Drift in limbo through the rain
Watch your past and futures drown
All your thoughts you used to know.
Dive down the darkest abyss
Killing the lurking fiends you find
Here they'll sing about your fights.
Glide through times murkiest mists
Leave all your worries behind
Lose the need of wrong or right.
Climb to the top of your bliss
Behold your wonderful mind
Cry your oceans at the sights.
Jump of the tallest tower
Realise you're falling faster
Your fears come back to haunt you.
Resist but void's your power
She's there but you fall past her
Mephistopheles pulls you.
Your streets open like flowers
He peels the stone like plaster
Fall into his jaws and through...
...Out the other side it's clear
Embrace the one you hold dear
Think of your potential here.
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC