A foreign fire.
Boiling the skin on.
Aching arms.
Heaving, hollow.
Stones dissolve.
The life jacket the only identity.
The anonymity of a despairing face.
Water-logged clothes on invisible bodies.
Babies abandoned by the big blue woman.
The commuting pages in the brains of commuting bodies.
Bleaching the facts.
White. Washing it all away.
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 3:45 PM UTC
Out stretching
Out reaching
The callused, bleeding hands
Of tightly gripping on.
The permantly furrowed brow,
Weathering a face which has seen too much.
The innocent eyes try,
But are clouded over.
His everyday grows like a plane
flying over
Dunkirk dawn
Guns drawn.
His green home
Of west is best
And his voice would flow
With a carefree blow
which has blown
to fragments.
His streets turned red
When in November they would tred
To remember
Those who bled
Now they are only spotted
Every year dearer
Washing away.
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 3:40 PM UTC
In the distance,
a speck of green and blue
and grey pulls me closer
the curious fires on me and it
spread.
I land on the speck
Of green and blue
and grey
and the people
greet me
with a stretched hole on top of their bodies.
As if it is being pulled
by some other thing
I ask them about the speck
of green and blue
and grey
they say
you can do as you may
lay on the bay
all day
and watch the stars play.
These people of beige and brown
and grey
listen to my story of my speck
and they reject
Their falsehoods of fantasy lives
glare In front of them.
Like the lights from my ship.
I watch the people of beige and brown and grey
On their speck of green and blue and grey
And wonder in sympathy.
Jun 5, 2018
Jun 5, 2018 at 3:30 PM UTC
Look.
Look again.
Don't avert your eyes.
Don't keep scrolling.
A boy alone on a beach.
A product of the dry cheeks of Westminster.
Let the image burn.
Burn until you can't escape it.
Burn until it consumes you.
Until it's all you can picture,
until you finally regain a pulse.
Let the sirens inside you begin as you look,
Let the fire of sadness and anger tear through your veins as you look,
Feel your heart pour out into the image as you look,
Picture his mother, childless as you look,
Picture this thousands and thousands times more as you look,
And keep looking...
N.Hedges
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
Each piece wedged in deep,
deep in the soul.
Proposals and births,
deaths and break-ups.
Each explosion causes shrapnel.
Little shards of experiences.
Bad and good,
all in us, making us.
N. Hedges
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
Bang.
let them do the job
as they do we need to simply look the other way
The Islamophobia is suffocating
the saturation is enough.
There are children there
but we don't see that.
Children without fathers.
Children without mothers.
The Christian fanatics
are not so different.
You have your flag,
You have your gun.
So do they,
but they're the evil one?
Take a mirror and as you do,
you will see, they look like you.
Your religion is no better,
no holier or worthy,
we are all human
all equal.
But some are more equal than others.
Aren't they?
N. Hedges
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
You're so alone
and I know exactly why.
I had to hate you
but I couldn't even try.
This miserable sod had become
a stupid **** who thought after doing.
But this stupid **** wouldn't be free
and now it's me he's pursuing.
Did this man really have it all?
Was I his only one?
I don't think he knows that with me,
He's won.
N. Hedges
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
Student Death
Heavy, heaving hearts surround us all
the tone is now sombre
and everything is inappropriate.
A solemn tweet,
a status update.
Its all just empty comments made on preconceptions
of society's expectations.
I did not know you dear angel,
but nevertheless,
My thoughts and feelings are with your family and friends.
Sincerely.
N. Hedges
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC