AS MY PHONE LAY DYING

My phone lay in its cradle breathing its last

Breath as it slowly dies in front of my very

Eyes. The incessant little beep enough to drive

Some out of their sad little minds but for me I

Count the moments until they stop or I just put

The damn thing out of its misery & consign

It to the waste-bin of life for some other even

Poorer soul to try and get it working but they

Won’t!

It’ll just go to the great gadget hole that is

Slowly killing our planet & for that, well look,

I’m sorry but my room is small and my cash-flow

Short so there ain’t nothing to do but go out

And simply buy another one, you know, the

Cheapest one I can find or maybe one just

Picked up off the street like a giant orange

Thing I found a few years back. It used to

Glow in the dark whenever it would ring &

Was a great phone, so maybe I’ll just keep my

Eyes peeled as I walk pass the rows of

Million pound homes that count as my neighbours

And see what I can use for home here, I guess

We’ll wait and see.

~

THE DOORS SLAM SHUT

Today i’ll be out there going about my business

Of living, copping some goodies to keep me

Going and buying some food and more booze

Just to keep me from the clutches of boredom.

I may use this time to sit and write but today i

Feel i must get on out and just see. Yesterday

In my neighbourhood the people kept on living

While the government keep telling them to

Stay in and save lives or we’ll lock this shit

Down more than you can ever imagine, turning

Our country into nothing more than a police

State which no doubt Brighton will resist until

All doors are slammed shut.

~

I’LL NEVER PLEAD FOR THEIR FORGIVENESS

There’s a church on the corner

Of my street that seems to

Be the place for the lost, the

Dispossessed & the mad,

Those who still, during these

Darkest of times, believe in

The goodness of humankind

But with bombs killing kids

All in the name of religion

I know I’ll never plead for

Their forgiveness.

~

A DAILY FIX OF GENIUS RUINED THE BARS FOR ME

During the covid times I overdosed on loneliness

& the genius of others as the lock-downs dragged on

Somehow never letting me to return to my stool

In that bar at the end of the street that sat boarded up

And whilst I inhaled my daily fix of film, books or

Music I never realised, until it was all over, that

Somehow this life had changed & now I’m quite

Happy to sit at home & read a great novel than

Waste my hard-earned down that street in any bar.

~

IS SHE TRYING TO WAKE THE DEAD?

The wannabee porn star who lives in the room

Upstairs is urging her lover to give her more

More to moan about

More to feel deep down inside her

& as she shakes the bed to its foundations I

Worry that one day she’ll make my ceiling cave in

But even then I doubt she’ll wake the ghost

Of Hugh Hefner.

~
We have been a fan of Bradford Middleton for quite some time. Here is more of his poetry we have published.