Poems I gone and done

[jaydot]

Industrial Revolution

How ironic is Power Plant?
Industry blooms and booms on Britain's Green land
Dirty rolling suburban town
Languid brown City river
Paste jewel in plastic crown
Crumbling mills atop green green hills
Harsh westerly wind chills
and the sweet stench of petroleum
Morning express hushes into the station , out steps
Mr Suit, Incognito, undefined. The same as his counterparts .

Architectural gateaux
Gorge on Victoriana and Romanesque
Layers of time, Roman, Medieval and today.
Nucleus of commerce, pigeons wakeup crow
Red and yellow ants zip to and fro, where they go, we do not know?
Buildings of Tommorow, Platinum Picasso, angular, daubed on dull grey canvas
Choking populous, heaving metropolis
Cotton weaved my city.
The end looms large for its mills,
Riverside Living, shopping trolley views.
Green belt snaps, swallowed by the yellow monsters
Invasion of habitat, hometown. Expanse is essential some will say

Shimmering skyline, dirty core, grey gummed pavements
Every corner of the compass, concrete, tarmac, glass
Dank dust, inescapaple gloom. Pungent vehicular odours
God-given hills, fields, green pastures
Soiled hands moulded bridges, aquaducts, buildings.
Man-made structure, construction boomed, town bloomed like mushroom
Putrid fungus, flowers, borders alter, up buildings spring

Babbling brook trades for industrial muck
Sheperd's crook for casino luck
Every cranny, every nook
Pigeon's coo for little duck's cluck
Ooh Ahh to oh fuck.

Machinery for plough,
Fox for cow
Villages blossom, but how ?
The farms our livlihood, what now ?
Learned men trade in tall glass towers
Where one year ago, stood a wee shop for flowers
Village shop now stocks power showers
Drive Thru for Do Not Cross
Danger ! Cows crossing ! flanked by Belisha Beacons , zebra crossing
Quaint farm to bustling zoo
Village pond to Sealife centre
Village pub to Brewers Fayre
Chugging tractors overtaken by James Irlam HGV
DFS , B and Q , Marks and Sparks

This is the future of the village and small town
Farmhouse demolished, school torn down
In its place stand the Crown ( Plaza )
Village idiot to town tramp,
Industrial estate from gentleman's estate
This is the countryside fate,
Gone is don't Forget to Close the Gate
Industry's coming to a village near you
So tell the vicar, tell a mate!


Orphans of The Holocaust


In each and every ashen face
is a look of blank despair
Broken lines of laughter
lie dormant next to frightened eyes.
The doe-eyes of the children,
born to this cold and stark era.
Like rows of obsidian soldiers,
they trudge the isolated roads.
Trapped by a wall of hate.
Touched by the hands of no-one.

Although their hearts will still drone faintly,
and they will exist and breathe,
they will never be the same again,
because their sky as fallen in.
These little souls will always roam
until they feel a maternal kiss.
Their tears falling down waxwork cheeks,
tiny hands gripping toy dolls and clowns.
The last srebme of the furnace,
salvaged in the heat of destruction.

So they troop the pain-washed streets,
where pleas are as silent as sirens.
In every razor-edged shadow,
there cower the tiny silhouettes.
The misery of these hoards like bloody swords,
stabbing in the cruel of the night.
Searching calls for mothers and fathers.
The questions ricocheting if concrete shells,
the answers hanging static in time.
Another hope is led away forever.

For You

Bobbing on an ocean’s expanse
My heart is like the cloud’s fiery angst
Should a tear drop from my glazed eye,
Like gentle rain from an innocent sky
Then an angel will come up to Heaven above
To you it will declare my pure love.
But I am lost aboard this tiny boat
My feelings of love around me float
No feelings inside, just despair
What love I have, it walks on air
It treads the water’s calm
And buzzes around in Summer’s balm
But you can never receive it.
Just watch and wait and believe it.
I wish I could tell you how much you mean
But that is just a faded dream
The jaded memories of you are gone
All that remains are the sighs of one
Alone on my own on a big blue sea
I dream of you, and you and me
I look above, but you don’t smile down
I look around, you’re still not found
My sadness is a sound, all abound
Swallowed in the sea and drowned
Cries of pain flicker in the black
I still sail, hope and pray you’ll come back
But the day you fell into the swirling swell
Was the day God opened the depths of hell
I must join you up in the cotton cloud
Down here will be a forgotten shroud
My mind is blocked, head heavy like rock
Now I must go, and unpick the lock
Inside I am already dead, as dead as can be
But for you, I’ll make it for eternity.

[jrkhnds]

Languid brown City river
Paste jewel in plastic crown

izan references detected.

[AxeD]

That first strophe of Orphans of the Holocaust is quite gripping.
Doe eyes doesn't work for me in this context though, maybe because you
already mention eyes in the line before?

Also, you should keep srebme like this

(edit: I don't know why I assumed you were taking notes.. bit too forward maybe)

[finji]

pretty good

[3za]

My life
*read in pitched down rasta voice, with loads of reverb*
My rooms a mess
but compared to my head it's bless
blaze the high grade sess
and i fell less stress