Zak Parsons- Three Poems

The Riflemen

The man you knew yesterday will not be here tomorrow

Yesterday was a good day but now I feel the storm brewing

The armies of riflemen have returned

They stand on guard

Shooting happiness as soon as it tries to pop his head up

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He never stood a chance

I tried to save him

I always do

But the riflemen won

They always do

So I shall carry on with this battle

Me versus the riflemen

I shall continue to take bullets to my brain

I shall carry on this battle

I will bring it to my grave

 

 

Insomnia

I sit awake most nights

Listening to the traffic creep past my window

The planes overhead are loud and boisterous as they climb the London Sky

Everyone seems to be going somewhere.

But I am here.

Lying motionless with dull eyes and aching limbs

Thinking of ways to sleep

So far, none have sufficed

I am a Poet

I am a poet

Whether you like it or not

Zak Parsons the poet

The one you forgot

I do not know what makes a good poem, or poet for that matter

One man’s meat is another man’s poison

I’m sure I’m not the only one who prefers poison