Sunday, September 7, 2014

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

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

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