Poetry

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

 

 

Standard
Poetry

Airmail

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

fades

away.

*** ***

Copyright © 2017 Hannah Edge. All rights reserved.

Standard
Poetry

Crossed Wires

Intonations hard pressed
to understand,
realise, compromise
when we deny
emotions in a voice
****
Of the words that tumble forth
comments unthought, unplanned
We misunderstand
our fellow man
****
Slash across the chest
words said in jest
Sting of a thousand bees
****
Bullet to the kneecaps
banter for the masses
Carrion birds on a living calf
****
What people say
What people mean
What people hear
What people feel
****
****
Copyright © 2016 Hannah Edge. All rights reserved.

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