Its not your actions
that define you instead the
colour of your kerbs.

Embedded in the crease of streets
Lies litter from this wasteland world.
Grandiosity of trees despoiled by plastic bags
Shredded to a baleful wind-whipped bunting.
Cans and bottles glint in summer sun.
Their quenching duty done, they figure
In a losing landscape, tinged by neglect.
Dog-eared gutters crouch against the kerbs,
Lusting for a sluice of cleansing rain.
At least the leaves all lavished beauty once,
To cast a vibrant coloured throw
Across a calloused landscape
Through the gnarl of tarmac
And turgid, timeless traffic.

Curfew dogs pay no
heed to black sheep

Darkness differentiation
derides no delegates

Church bells silence
testicular pendulums

Hands semaphore -
timeless clock towers

Shadowless alleys
cat controlled kerbs

Embers doused, ashen
Phoenix faces cindered

Light rationed through
ill fitting shutters

Charred wood remnants
wafting weightlessly

Whispering eavesdrops
cobblestone chattering

Town crier echoing in
mnemonic mutterings

A rising intonation
dies on rebound, silence.

              <>


Lockdown |ˈlɒkdaʊn|
nounN. Amer.
the confining of prisoners to their cells, typically in order to regain control during a riot. the lockdown has been in effect since October 1983.
• a state of isolation or restricted access instituted as a security
measure: the university is on lockdown and nobody has been able to leave.
                                               <>
Curfew |ˈkəːfjuː|
noun
a regulation requiring people to remain indoors between specified hours, typically at night: a dusk-to-dawn curfew | [ mass noun ] : the whole area was immediately placed under curfew.
• the hour designated as the beginning of a curfew. [ mass noun ] : to be abroad after curfew without permission was to risk punishment.
• the daily signal indicating the beginning of a curfew: they had to return before the curfew sounded.

Hey girl
It seems you pulled my heart
Straight from my chest
Sent it back in a box
With a stamp that said rejected
Oh oh here we go
Always leave me feeling
So low, oh no, here we go
I'm hanging from the ceiling
Held up by these demons
Oh lord this just ain't right
Wasn't ready for this fight
Okay, alright, better hold on tight
As my eyes turn from brown to red
Rage starts to grow
In my face, it start to show

Hell yes, hell no
My mind starts to argue
With itself
And I'm caught in the middle
Of all these thoughts
What should I do
What should I do
What should I do about you
Can't stay, need to go
Keep moving on
Just keep looking forward
Keep moving on

I've got a sinking feeling
Somethings strumming my nerves
Keep hitting kerbs
Keep losing out
And I'm trying to find a way
That I can stop from hurting now
Somebody take this heart
I don't want it anymore
Somebody take this soul
I don't need it anymore
Just let me hit the floor
Don't feel like getting back up at all

Hell yes, hell no
My mind starts to argue
With itself
And I'm caught in the middle
Of all these thoughts
What should I do
What should I do
What should I do about you
Can't stay, need to go
Keep moving on
Just keep looking forward
Keep moving on

Trying to find new ways
To keep me sane
Trying to find new ways
To keep me from breaking up again
And I'm leaving all the broken parts behind
Just trying to keep my head held high
I'm gonna be just fine
Keep walking it'll all be alright
Just give it a little time
Breathe in, breathe out
Let it all go
Just let life take the wheel
And move with the flow

Hell yes, hell no
My mind starts to argue
With itself
And I'm caught in the middle
Of all these thoughts
What should I do
What should I do
What should I do about you
Can't stay, need to go
Keep moving on
Just keep looking forward
Keep moving on

©2017 Written By Benji James

as i drive to work today
i see the detruis of thebig rain
piled up on the kerbs

great heaps of garden trash
leaves and broken trees

and in front of me a council
team with a log chipper
pulls up at one of the larger heaps
and begins to decimate it
bough by bough, it rumbles
through the mechanism
that cuts it down to mulch
and throws it into
the back of a following trailer

whilst the practical part of
my soul applauds their productivity
the whimsical nature loving earthmother
cries..for the birds and possums that
just lost the family ranch

I am — You are — He is — She is — We are —
A populace of conjugated verbs,
All congregated like a bunch of herbs
Wrapped up in twine, with never thyme to spare —

And Basil is too busy now to care —
He roots around the meters at the kerbs
For fumbled coins lost by “them from the burbs”,
And on a lucky day he looks to share

With Rosemary a coffee and a cake,
Always a takeaway, they daren’t go in
For though their coins are welcome, not so they,
And so, like king and queen, they leave the din
And hold their court in subways to partake
Of feasting on their banquet, out the rain.

The subtle cuts high sail
Nips to the heel of a trepid surge
A courtesy bends in its open fern
Recoiling its claim into remembrance
Heaping pose on the dead dark glut
Neath its oaring heave

In base the bluff kerbs no intent to a swift swallow
Perching its down on the widows yern
Its close fervent smish haps placid
Again the blighty moor
Stone as cold in its nest of negation

Pressing her pulse to symphatic  nuture
Her tempered tender tongues its way
Taming its shrew to the cain of Eel and arrow
Its slip , sharp across the eery veil of guilting
Pierces deep to the dull *****
Birthing its pangs upon the sickly clad
Thickened to stew in slithe and slither


Ruse
Hollows pale
Filling every mercy to its brim
Belting its breath to a brazin bow of command
Its fleet stale as marrow
Plunder its slackened writ
Steadfast on beam
Her Blood Red Compass