Odeboyz: The Poetry Workhouse

Odeboyz Poets Factory                                       The Odeboyz Poetry Workhouse

Winds howling, frost- clad pavements,
Trees bowed over with snow and worry,
Fingertips chilled, nose frozen,
Body numbed, battered into submission.
Drink saturated Christmas brain cries, “Enough!”

Poets paralysed, jaded, doomed
A Grande Armee of poets retreating from Moscow
Quill pens clutched in fingers suffering rigor mortis,
Talent withered into husked memory.
Odeboyz cry, “Enough!”

A Winter Break is granted,
Workhouse doors are flung open,
Sunlight streams in and poets flood out.
Loved ones crowd pavements, waving bunting.
The cry goes up, “Hurrah for the Beadle!”

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s