Remember! Your poems don't have to be inspired by politics, alone. There's much more going on in your world, both locally and globally.

Friday, 11 January 2019

England in 2019

Dark shore hide little boat sinking.
Pray cursing shaved heads find us
or we drown. Dawn a pebble beach,
foil blankets to camera. Blue nitrile hands
slide the white side door. Just eight inside
this van. Too brown for chalk cliff land
but England is safe. How many make a crisis?

In Kentish fields one hundred trucks rehearse
six thousand stuck grid-locked loads
of cold store grub, palleted floor to ceiling.
Cue media battles, ministerial briefings.
Hospitals stocking meds and fridges
less Europeans, sabre rattled, quitting
but Boris blowhards still burning, not building, bridges.

© Phil Coleman

Eight men detained after crossing Channel in inflatable dinghy

No-deal Brexit rehearsal in Kent 'a waste of time'

Phil Coleman lives near Swansea and tries to balance work and the need to write. At the age of 50 he's still a complete tyro at everything except juggling words.

2 comments:

  1. Nice one Phil! I feel your pain all the way from Belgium.

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  2. A portrait of Britain I never hoped to lay eyes on. Very clearly painted with carefully chosen words. Good poem

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