I
Scanning the lost horizon
Keeping our eyes on
A place called Hope
Hoping to see a distant sail
Praying that fair winds prevail
To take us there
Where
There might be roses.
Or delving inside
Nowhere to hide
In the reed-bed worlds
Of our being
Seeing
Shadows slide
No place to hide
At the blind bends
We are fleeing.
II
Concrete dust
Blowin’ in the wind
Agony upon agony.
Tears like blood
Streaming.
Huddled children
Dreaming
Of quiet bedrooms
And plates of food
At a place called Hope
Still screaming.
III
The iceman cometh
Immaculately dressed
With waxen skin
Who can tell what lies within?
Resentment festers like sepsis
Padlocks secure the exits
Does he care a fig
For the lads now gone?
Cannon fodder every one…
And where oh where is Hope?
Gone to heaven
Like The Pope.
We certainly are in a very stressful time. Every poem like this gets people out protesting.
ReplyDeleteSo sad, this poem by the end, when the first verse was quite hopeful.
ReplyDeleteYour words sum up the state of the world.
ReplyDeleteThe news just goes from bad to worse. When will we ever learn? Hope is all we have. Whether No Hope or Bob Hope.
ReplyDeleteOooooo, good poem! I particularly like your image "the reed-bed worlds /
ReplyDeleteOf our being".
I still have hope.
ReplyDeleteWithout hope we are lost, reeling in the wind, tossed by the sea.
ReplyDeleteWe can certainly do with some signposts pointing to Hope!
ReplyDeleteHope is what keeps us going when things look bleak. Good poem, YP.
ReplyDeletei tried .... very much in vain, to find the lyrics to john shuttleworth's "she lives in hope" song...... it's a lovely tune and i am sure you'd appreciate it......
ReplyDeletehttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmi0UGWMrto