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Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
A single magpie
follows,
mocks my folly
down the silky path.
Watches me pass
old railway stations.
Hops around
mad vegetation.
Trembles like
a rabid dog in dirt.
Stands waiting
above tunnels
and unnamed bridges,
heading straight for
the south coast.

I exit the wood
with thumbs up.
Pull off my ear defenders
to let lobes
cool off
in oxygen pools.
Enter through the side door.
All rules abandoned
like dog tearing up fox.
We eat white loaves,
eggs poached,
plastic potatoes,
a couple of items off
the children's menu.
My appetite is applauded
and I'm thankful for
such a throwback feast.

Next, drowsiness
lets itself in.
Both chef and beast
access the same dream.
I'm left with
a handful of passions
and tattoos repeated.
Bite off *******.
Still chewing rings
when elder spits out
the only tongue
he's ever taught me
to imitate.

His knowing look
of devilish frenzy,
our cook wakes up
to nod along
with the crazy.
Dog jumps up
and licks master's chin.
Begin to think about
untouched piano keys
hidden behind that
golden mouth.
Hope for the carpet
finally retired.
Look through the
chintzy cabinet
filled with the same
**** since '86.
Imagine knocking out
that wall
my family is so afraid
to see fall.
Street becomes
a magpie nest.
Out of  
the warren's way.
Poem #9 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad' is about hidden discrimination and coming to terms with seeing it among your own family circles.
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
Each day, we carry our names through urban terrain.
For every letter laid out and shining atop the cityscape,
a thousand more become garbage scattered in darkness.
Yet I'm courted into thinking I'm on the right street
by algorithms selling dopamine down Sideways Alley.

Too soon after bearing my soul on the infinite scroll,
tourists flock and flap to get at the itch on my back.
Their words cut deep like plastic knives at a banquet.
Their hearts warm like the walls of an empty fridge.
Breadcrumbs left behind only lead to the trapdoor.

Those in luxury estates who threw paint on a throne -
their patches of land fertile and thriving up to the gates -
offer tips on organic growth that can build into empires,
while those packed in high-rise blocks act like bandits,
egos painted loud on knock-off flags hung to balconies.

What am I in this black hole of corrupted competition?
Views above the skyline only provide anxious thoughts.
Occasionally, I find answers in unseen neighbourhoods.
An outstretched hand holds a glass of chilled apple juice.
Now we go round each other's house to share fresh fruit.
Poem #8 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad' focuses on social media.
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
There's a spike housed
in this stomach lining

a hideous beast
cracking knuckles

a snake curling
in circles

flush them out
with cups of water

leave them starved
like mediocre starters

avoid all
sudden
movement

block each hole
that could let
a sense explode

and pray to God
the grenade
is just a dud.
Poem #7 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad' attempts to describe my emetophobia - the fear of *****.
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
Delivered to us by an optimistic gentleman in a black Stetson cap
who spent his days waving village traffic down with an open hand,
it's been four years since you were sat on the bookshelf in Kath's house.

You stood proud, surveying the fine china made across the border
wrapped up in donated newspaper articles and pristine hand-me-downs,
while my inky fingers welcomed regulars who only ever looked around.

Each weekend we were greeted by bright smiles set in permanent shadow.
Sometimes I declined banknotes on the street for carrying dismantled tables.
I'm still searching for namesakes when perched on local stones above sea level.

Friends like Elvis were divisive figures due to their signature tobacco smells.
Under a green bus shelter, I laughed at his frown about a Midlands town.
Thinking about the rows of vacant church seats still leaves me cold

even now. As I watch needles drop onto rocks and a solitary shell,
your frame shrivels daily and bends you crooked like a question mark.
Oh, Eric - will I ever meet your father again to discuss your burial?
Poem #6 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. This is about eccentrics and how they appear to be dying out, like Eric.
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
like looking down
the throat of
a carrion crow
abandoned by
its mother and
left to eat
alone

the heat from
each brick under
the toes
radiates and
glows as much as
those on either
shoulder bone

superior eyes
in the room
cocked and pointed
at you

your shoes
your coat
wallet
or hotel reservation

footsteps follow
close behind and
grind the fear

though kind intention,
only ease when home is near.
Poem #5 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. This is the first poem that covers mental health, an issue that has heavily impacted my life.
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
During my lifetime, teachers have been kings.
Mr. Ellison, with his football obsession, dared
declare the Father worse than der Führer.
Across the hall, Mr. Summerhayes gave us life
lessons, like adults have first names too.

Paul was next in line. A stoker of fiery debate –
he painted landscapes on political wings,
propaganda and the bluebirds of South Wales.
He tried his best but Pete pulled me aside
when depression began to blacken my mind.

Bigger steps made things more complex.
But he welcomed me back to his class,
always asked how my mother was doing,
embraced my erratic emails and career plans,
until we lost contact after his retirement party.

Now I write this poem from a pit of shame –
a decade on and my destiny remains lost.
Sometimes I meet royalty again in the shops.
My head is hung and my words are cut short.
I’ll never stop trying to be what you thought.
Poem #4 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. Originally written as a competition entry for Teacher Appreciation Week, I found the personal reflections included were too raw to throw away forever after being overlooked in the contest.
Lewis Wyn Davies Sep 2020
Ransom note in the post this morning.
Simile for me but reality to the savages.
Their class is ******* mixed in cannabis.
Knives loaded and explosives carried.
Mouths foaming at the thought of action.
A thousand threats spoke with conviction.
Horizontal weapons on the table dresser.
Since when did we mention the press here?
Poem #3 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. I wrote this poem after a local newspaper described an attack as "savage" and it reflects my disdain for sensationalised journalism, which first emerged whilst studying at university.
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