Take Flight


Close your eyes, drug your senses,

feel the wind scorch your face,

cling on tight, ready for our fight


as our dragon soars over forests of war;

as we cling to his scales, vibrate from his roars


smell the sulphur engulf us as clouds

open fire, their acid-rain melting

through airplanes and drones

that attack with dictatorship,

hatred and fear.


Religious fervour wears au-de-murder:

Children rotting, limbs detached,

innocent heads hang from the trees,

drip-feed the earth as Vitamin Pain.

Women weep, raped and beaten;

eyes hollow, they pray

for death’s hand on their throat.


As our dragon soars

and roars and snarls,

our  growing Eutopia

is suddenly Outopia;


as our dragon swoops low

he spits fire at the beasts

that demolish our peace,

our power, our time.


He tears them to ribbons

with claws glistening red;

he crunches on bones


with fangs sharp as razors.


Their screams die half-formed,

as we tremble with rage.

Too late we land and stand

in the massacre

of our people, our friends,

our freedom, our hope.

*** ***

Copyright © 2017 Hannah Edge. All rights reserved.

Image rights: sashulka.deviantart.com/art/Dragon-s-flight-402283943





Hoard your feelings

in this mouldy cardboard box.

Wrap them shut

with a cow’s intestines;

add its leather as a label

and send to Madagascar


where the lemurs can chew,

claw at the memories

and scents and tastes, devouring

your emotions until the pain



*** ***

Copyright © 2017 Hannah Edge. All rights reserved.


Customer Service

Control of this situation

is not in my hands sir.

I believe you need to take

a left up that corridor

and get fucked.


Ah, you have a problem?

You can’t log into your account?

Well I never sir, just bear with me,

I need a large box of tissues –

your tale is weep-worthy.


You can call me all the names

under the sun sir,

and any you find under that rock

you crawled from too.


Yes sir, I do love my job –

As much as you enjoy

a kick in the balls

and account closure.


Copyright © 2016 Hannah Edge.  All rights reserved.



(Not) Our Fight

Live for moments –

glorious goals, leg stretching saves.


Panic over dramas –

fights for possession, triumph and trophies.


Watch from our sofa

(beer and insults in hand)

edge of our seat, knuckles bitten to bone.


Ninety minutes of heaven and hell.

Emotions rubbed raw, cut

and bruised heart for the sake

of success that is not of our making.


We’ve screamed better tactics,

begged for certain subs,

but we’re miles away,

no influence at all.


Copyright © 2016 Hannah Edge.  All rights reserved.