Take two

Can’t wait for this year to end. 

Can’t wait for the bough to break. 

Can’t wait for the road to bend. 

My life needs a second take. 

So run the sound on up to speed, 

commence the visual sequence. We 

shout action! Catch the visual feed. 

Capture all, in every frequency.

Can’t wait for the year to expire 

so we can let the new one in. 

We all need something to inspire. 

Take two. We all begin again. 

Steve Wheeler © 31 December, 2020

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The backstory

I love back stories. That's why I read a lot of autobiographies. The narrative behind an event, artefact or person is usually hidden but can be fascinating. 

The stories behind the writing of poetry can also be compelling, not least because all we see is the finished product. 

What about all the drafts and discarded words and phrases? What about all the emotion that is invested into the writing of a poem? 

Where was it written, and what was happening at the time? What was the poet trying to convey to readers, and is there any hidden meaning in the verses?

All of these questions are addressed by Christal Cooper in her blog including a photo feature for each poet. Here's her interview with me about the poem Broken Rainbows (which was published in my Urban Voices collection, 2020). It's number 223 in her fascinating series. 

Take a read. You may find it interesting!

Lovely desolation

Lovely desolation

hidden high

within the cloud, 

and windswept hills

where yellow moorland

bracken rises proud

Dangerous oblivion

in the quagmires of the lost

and might of granite outcrops

sweeping low

to meet the moss

and oh, the sky

capricious sky

with clouds and colours

fleeting low and wide

so ancient Dartmoor greets you,

and then just as quickly,

pushes you aside

Steve Wheeler © 29 December, 2020

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Stealing the stars

If I could 

then I would 

steal a star right

out of the sky 

to give to you. 

 

Unfortunately 

there’s nowhere

I can safely store

a two million mile

diameter sphere 

of burning gas

with a surface 

temperature

of five thousand

degrees Kelvin 

Sometimes

being a romantic 

is totally 

impractic 

al 

Steve Wheeler © 29 December, 2020

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Calcified

The skeletons of winter trees

raise bony arms and fingers high

to graze a grey and leaden sky

and you and I are calcified

I make no bones about it 

Steve Wheeler © 28 December, 2020

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Goodbye Mr Narcissist

Step down, and move away from your pedestal / the pain you’ve inflicted has been incredible / the damage is more than collateral / it’s astronomical / your truth has been economical / your ‘alternative facts’ would’ve been comical / if your lies and indecision weren’t so moronic and unacceptable / all you’ve ever done and said has been clinically cynical / your fake news was self-seeking and elliptical / you’ve done your best in your quest to be dishonest and pretensional / unteachable / and unreachable / and it’s typical / and predictable / that you would be so consistently one-dimensional // 

What we all really think of you is unprintable / and unrepeatable // you thought you were unbeatable / in your own mind, you were undefeatable / you thought you were invincible / and indestructible / unbelievably, you still think you’re unsinkable / what goes around comes around and it’s cyclical / it’s unthinkable / your self-delusion is inexplicable / it’s stubborn and egotistical / it’s malignantly narcissistical / and that kind of sickness is untreatable // 

At times like this it’s conventional / to mention the unmentionable / let me tell you, you were never presidential / your default position was unconscionable / if someone disagreed with you, it was like a red rag to a bull / your social media was spitefully unsociable / your tweets and posts were risible / and your deceit was always visible / you should have been impeachable / but your umbrella was party-political / unbreachable / formed by your buddies in a corrupt cabal / it was despicable / unethical / and pitiful / but at best your percentage of protection was only marginal // 

Whenever you were met by opposition all / your anger and your rage was considerable / your face was often unsmiling and miserable / for you the mug was always half empty, never half full / you were never very happy with the feasible / deliberately playing the unreasonable / you were always playing up to your white supremacy pals / it was base relational / and you’re still insatiable / you crave it all / the power and glory of it all / and the adoration, all / from the electoral / crowds, but through it all / you’ve been mentally unstable / and pathologically unable / to be amicable / and charitable // 

Your behaviour is despicable / and reprehensible / your decency is invisible / your conscience is minimal / your morality is switchable / your charity is fictional / and you’re a shameless individual / even your taste in decor is kitsch and all / you say is a lie – you ain’t rich at all / and what you suffer from ain’t fixable / so I predict your future will be miserable / because you’re basically an imbecile / you’re a serial criminal / your situation ain’t winnable / so crawl back under your rock and be invisible / go grab ‘em by the pussies and swallow your pride along with your cholesterol // 

 
Steve Wheeler © 26 December, 2020 

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Before

Before they got their hands on me

I was unconditioned, roaming free.

Before they taught me who to be

I was unexplored, a mystery.

I was virgin snow, unmarked, untrod,

a pristine soul with feet unshod,

before they mired my mind with rules

like all those other feckless fools. 

Steve Wheeler © 26 December, 2020

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Gravitation

She was my world 

and I was her moon 

My orbital pathway 

was ended too soon

Steve Wheeler © 9 December, 2020