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Poems
by Stephen Philip Druce

 

 

Sea Creature Disco

 

Subterranean beasts punch liquor
ash tribes to flash droplet
in thunder bone caper and groove,


to skinny-bloom jewel-flaked rhythms
of the bubble glide, the toe-drumming one eyed,


the pedalling fizz, the monotony freak fish -
in a blitz of glitter ball gibberish,


as the flesh lanterns glisten -
the forked lancing rays are apprehended
in the triggered feather spew -


the flaming shuffle snakes dance
in the smoke of the crumbling skeleton crew.


and hollow mutterings in sea bed fleets,
are the shipwrecked skulls that nod
to the dripping beats.

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

Sugar River

 

Fish shaped sweets
and sticky treats
swim in a current jam,


sherbet swans save
drowning bon bons, in
rapids of fruit cake and marzipan,


there’s gingerbread fishermen
with rods of candy sticks,
that cast their lines of liquorice lace
in a whirlpool of pick n’ mix,


driftwood tarts and pastry parts
float in a stream of fizzy pops, as
jelly babies row in custard boats
with oars of strawberry lollypops,


through trifle rums, ice cream runs,
biscuit crumbs and runny yum yums,


meander splash the chocolate muds
in a soft caramel of lashing floods,


and riverbanks they brace and quiver,
but love the taste of the sugar river -
always.

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

Real Friends

 

Real friends share their wine -
generously now yours and mine,

no street encounters brief,
no fleeting greeting
of a windy leaf,

they’re the caring kind
who’ll stop and ask if we’re fine,

and their long goodbyes make
you realise that real friends are easy to define -

they’re the ones that give you their time.

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

She Is Sci-Fi

 

She stripped off her
retro boots - ripped up
her non-descript Sunday suits,


trashed her ugly
dresses - burnt


the dark cuttings from
her tresses - now short
dyed ocean blue -


in futuristic design she
put on some devil horns and
a wrought iron spine of
prickly thorns -


square shades and
silver-glittered roller blades,


giant collar and shoulder fakes,
face paint and wings of snakes -
open jawed,


she flew with higher birds, and
with her sabre sword she carved out
the words in the sky -


I am sci-fi.

 

 

a line, (a blue one)

 

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