"chiswick" poems
Quayside in Chiswick
Where the sun makes a rare appearance
Her warm presence invigorating happiness
Britain-wide
She mirrors herself in a pool of algae, green liquid
Otherwise known as the Thames.
Her reflection?
A glint of the nation’s happiness, carpeting the foot of a passing cruiser-
Now water lapping against the quayside
And as the boat glided under the rough steel bridge
A reminder of industries past,
Of our nation’s heritage.
Now the sun tucks herself away among the skyline of West London
And the snug trendiness of Barnes fades away.
Yet the memory stays
Of nothing much else better than being quayside
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 4:27 PM UTC
Print my face on the welcome mat,
Wipe your feet, twice, and take off your hat.
D'you come alone?
Then make yourself at home.
The vibe in here, its quite sickly,
Think before you speak, but speak quickly.
A perfect balance between tense and mellow.
And the *** has stained the walls a lurid yellow,
The site of which will make you mad,
But that's all we ever had.
Please don't stare at them for too long,
Or everything you do will begin to seem wrong.
And don't let the mirrors fool you, that's not a real smile.
But you can stay and rest here for a while.
A seemingly perfect, place to hide,
With plenty of holes to crawl in and die.
Mind the gap between the floor and the ceiling,
I cant shake this feeling,
This isn't my home.
Yeah,
I'd rather be alone.
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 8:40 AM UTC