Tuesday, 6 January 2009

Poem - South Belfast

Children of the education
run amock and their salvation
lies among the Avenue, where
friends will meet, both old and new.

Bars and clubs are rather dear,
and leave me skint each time I'm here;
the artists, they aren't far away
with plenty to sing about or say.

Windsor Park will show a match
which finishes with a punch and scratch
between the players, green and blue,
and children grow up like that too.

Round the corner is the Road;
it runs for miles while carrying the load
of violent outbreaks from before.
The scars inside remain quite sore.

QUB is looking strong; the
children are right, they're not wrong
about the way this area looks;
they do not need anymore crooks.

Not to far away's the Pass,
where Harold's numbered days were last.
A man, he was, in South Belfast
where buildings crumbled with a blast.

Poem - Will they or won't they?

He walks in, sits down to take a seat.
She's been there a little bit longer and feels comfortable.

Throughout the duration, he contemplates flirtation,
as time is short and precious, without little to spare.
But no high sign is given. She sits looking exceptionally
gorgeous, without even a dab of make-up on her face.

He glances over as subtle as possible, yet makes himself
obvious to everybody, including her, but himself. She sits
there thinking, "Is he going to approach me or not?"

A sign is all he needs; not because he feels insecure
but because, for ll he knows, she could cry "Rape!" or
scream the house down, with many looking on.
Now, our boy's not easily embarrassed but this would
seriously be extracting the uring - so-to-speak!

"My word, she looks so sexy. Blue is her colour,
brown is her hair". "Why won't he just talk to me,
even if its to say hello? He'll get my number anyway!"

She strokes her hair and plays with it discreetly,
wishing those were his hands. He's thinking exactly the same,
only neither of them know this because both are either
too shy or are convinced the other isn't interested.

As soon as he gets up again, she'll be gutted but,
you never know, she may decide to follow.