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Friday, 13 July 2018

It's Not Coming Home...This Time

Buzzword Post-Mortem

On the mortuary slab
This time
There’ll be no
Club v country
Pride v ego
Wherever he goes
So does me go
Ticky tacky jealousies
From tabloid bottom feeders
Why can’t we practice penalties?
Where were all the leaders?
Paid too much
Cared too little
Daft haircuts and
Stupid cards
Not this time
Just
Unlucky lads

© Mark Coverdale


Mark Coverdale Art School Mod Poet. Born in Darlington the year Elvis died. Now in London via Oldham writing and performing socially and politically observational poetry. Twitter: @cov_art


Mirage

I stepped out of my home of thirty years
into a landscape transformed.
My postcode had changed colour.
Gone the cement grey
and the downbeat drab of everyday;
instead,
all red,
and silver white
on flags and banners
that held the light;
hanging from windows, shopfronts, bus-stops,
catching the breeze, and turning streets aglow,
even on top of the old folks bungalow.

It’s the World Cup semi-final.

But tomorrow, what world will I enter
from my home of thirty years?
A place of carnival and celebration,
or one of bleak confusion,
broken dreams and disillusion,
again the home
of monochrome,
flags and banners with no real purpose
sent packing with
the other surplus,
stowed in loft and shed and bin,
the land transformed the old-style way
as if there’d been no red-letter day?

© Charlie Lambert


Charlie Lambert is a former BBC sports correspondent who began writing poetry in 2016. He lives in Liverpool but is originally from Cumbria and his work is to feature in a new collection by Cumbrian poets, 'This Place I Know,' to be published by Handstand Press in the autumn.

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