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Shevek Appleyard Dec 2022
the city is pink
the clouds are close
the sun will sink
pubs will flood
pavement splattered
with tipsy chatter
from ****** clubs
glass shattered
and mornings knackered

the strangers that find me strange
The heave of an alleyway in a drunken sway
movement
students
cocktails
drunken wails
pool cues
ques for loos
beer gardens
feeling disheartened

potions creating feeling
to disobey trust
emotions blinded
by unnecessary lust

addictive needs
swift gulps of a remedy
morning bleeds
and my head is the enemy

delaying the night to be over
as i wander slow pace
the thought of being sober
the people and the look of my face

the clouds cry as I stare at the sky
I turn down to the puddles to untangle my troubles
the endless struggle to this puzzle

the sky is grey
I run to the train
panting in dismay
at a city full of pain
in a happiness debt
that the journey might reset

I blink

I missed my train
but the city is in pink
I live to love it
I make myself think
so I head to the bar
and I buy a drink
a rose tinted city at sunset

another old old poem I dug up recently :)
Adrian Jan 2018
There's a world out there
seen only through orange lensed ski goggles
a world with a redder sky
and a vermillion ground
your eyes adjust
though
to the apricot hues
and after a while
you find yourself seeing orange
and thinking blue
and when you take off
those warmly toned lenses
everything seems
so **** blue
like you forgot
the entire sky around you
was just a vast expanse
of cerulean
everything is so ******* orange
until it's blue

— The End —