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If one could sell feelings inside of glass bottles,
I would spend the excess fat in my bank account
buying the hit of humidity which encases us both
immediately after flying into a warmer climate.
This would be a highly reckless purchase, however,
as the very purpose of such suffocation pleasure
is only a by-product of our time spent together
cooling off in hotel sanctuaries, museum air-con
and the shade of a hilltop tree within a cemetery;
none of which could ever be contained
in the bottle.
Poem #15 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. A poem for someone special - and travel
For one day I wish, to be as free,
to bear no arms, to be, just me...

Her soldier at night, advancing with pride,
I enter the fight, advancing in stride.
My brother he joins, the code of the core
shoulder to shoulder, like never before.

My brother in arms, halting in fear,
his weapon upon, for he who is near.
Aiming to you, his trigger to press,
sacrifice I do, I spring in distress.

My heart is hit, my chest is a burst,
I gave my blood, I said to be first.
Your eyes now widen, my light becomes bright,
taking the bullet, is my final goodnight.

As I rest, towards the sky,
feeling your pride, feeling your cry.
I hear you near, I feel your tear,
I believe in you, please bear no fear.

My heart is open, my eyes upon,
to be the fallen, when all is done.
And as my spirit, rises to heaven,
bow for me, for hour eleven.

I saved you dear, to save a life,
to save your fear, to save your wife.
I live with thee, within the valour,
I deliver to you, our brotherly hour.

I wish for one day, to be as free,
to bear no arms, to be, just me.
To remember the fallen, to pray for thee,
to remember they gave, including me.

My brother in arms, I hear your plea,
my wife is of trust, to you and me.
I remember you now, I remember in may,
for my tomorrow, you gave your today.

Honour our protector, upon as thee,
bear arms our saviour, Her Majesty.
Look to one, and smile with pride,
look for the hope, and smile inside.
The day has come, to be just free,
the day has come, to be, just, me...
Mitch Prax May 21
There's still
a part of me in London-
I left it in my dingy block
on Deptford High Street.
Another part of me still
remains in St James Park,
somewhere in the flowers
and another somewhere in
the markets of Camden Town.
I don't think it'll ever leave.
Mitch Prax Feb 18
Oh London, you were
a dream and a nightmare all
wrapped up into one

7:37 AM
19/2/20
Black stone juts out over greying ice,
A mass of alpine greenery,
Half bare, half masked in white;
The motion of a turner painting,
Colours cast through Lowry's eyes.

Camouflaged upon a riverside
With no sign of Lutheran ambition,
As faith faltered, medieval to Christ,
A small church modestly mirages,
Casting simplicity into Nordic pride.

The excitement of the northern lights
Over the precipice of these continents,
American and Eurasian plates collide.
The Langjökull Glacier screams
Witnessing its own untimely demise.

The remoteness captured in the landscape
Starkly contrasts to us who bear witness to it
And in the mirroring of the landscape
A lonely civil dwelling knows nothing
Of war between nature and humankind.
Euphie Dec 2019
Ciao Rome, you were a splendid dream.
Au revoir Paris, you were like an autumn kiss.
Adios Barcelona, your crevices were filled
with the scent of cayenne pepper.
La revedere Bucharest, may your skies be filled with summer love.
Antio sas Athens, your temples are magnificent.
I bolted
this hanger
though steep
as the
cliff to
fly her
planes to
new heights
her hills
of Charlemagne
was renaissance
with the
reign in
just a
freshwater danced
such music
until dawn
Carl D'Souza Jul 2019
I just watched a news report:
there’s a heatwave in Europe
over 41 degrees celcius!
Forests are on fire,
people are uncomfortably sweltering,
the old and sick are dying,
climate change is happening!

I wonder
when will society
become desperate enough
about dangerous climate change
to stop using carbon-emitting fuels
and instead use renewable energies
like solar, wind and hydro?
Zywa Jul 2019
Europe grants a lot

of past, but not a future –


for poor refugees.
Culture is conservative and must set limits to preserve its achievements

"Grand Hotel Europa" (2018, Ilja Leonard Pfeijffer)

Collection "Being my own museum"
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