Thursday 5 February 2015

4 Poems by Luke Thurogood


Across the grey and dirtied sand
Toes pressed deep unsure
Pursued by boots heavy. Being
torn from an old world to new
Sails snatched through salt air vinegar tongue lashes
Marks. Upon the soul. Lest we forget
Be marked!
Eternal creature squirms under steps retraced by better men who
give back the salt and water to the world that witnessed it.

Retrospective collective 

If the walls had ears
and the ceilings eyes
I would see my father
primed in nettle-green uniform
as others remember him

If the commandant had no sense
and Mauricette a coward’s view -
Even if the walls had ears
and the air was made of eyes
There wouldn’t be a me to remember my father.

Adorned with coloured caps
the children sit to attention
as the lessons of life are drilled
by those just following orders

If the people hadn’t turned on each other and hunted like rats across the continent
if the camps had not been built and there had been no conflict
would brave Mauricette have made the crossing and touched our lives?
If she hadn’t been who she was
would there be any point at all?

The 5th horseman of the apocalypse 

The fires rolled in like tanks and obliterated our walls
Why didn’t you run?
Why didn’t you hide?
All places were alive with death and destruction
We had to hold
We had to hold on
Hell hounds stalked the streets and locked us indoors
But we were fine
We were alive
I had your hands and you had mine/I had your lips and you had mine
I’m glad you didn’t run
I’m glad you didn’t hide

Lament of the Library Poet 

Pace less progression
What the fuck is this
Look around at the worker ants and drones
Ill send them a haiku
‘Take this good advice
Get on with your pathetic life
Do not look for me.’
Maybe that will sort them out.
They suck and slurp and whistle and gulp air and choke on it but
disappointingly do not die but rather sick up their breath and carry on
Slamming their homo-hobilis thumbs down on the keys like a robot
wIth mild autism.
These worker bees should fly away
and leave me alone with my work
Leave and give me


Luke Thurogood is a student of Creative Writing at Edge Hill University. He lives in the North West of England where he edits his poetry journal 'Three and a Half Point 9'. He is currently redrafting a collection of poetry which he aims to publish.

No comments:

Post a Comment