Friday Fiction: Rubble Kings
Righteous anger
Here’s a Friday Fiction, written by one of my author friends.
Davey Payne was the first guest poet I featured here, with his Nithraid. Enjoy! Karl
Rubble Kings
Like the torch of a slow burn
your best days are done,
you may well blaze skylines –
we’ll rebuild with the bones of
you murdering tyrants!
hack hard at your roots purge your truth
when you waken at twilight
No frills, no thrills,
no pills for your ills
Join in, gut your own out as
bleeding rats raze your house,
vomiting secrets your conscience deleted
turned cheeks get smacked, mirrors crack
your bubbles burst
forlorn king of rubble and dust
no shimmers or glimmers
no breakfast no dinners
Our ancestors weeping while war
keeps repeating. Lost souls fast asleep,
their bodies smart, crawl and creep.
Yearning for drugs cut with violence,
washed down with radio silence
no home fires burning
empty guts churning
The stench threat of warlords unbothered
in Westminster’s corridors
by children in Palestine wailing in horror
flames fanned with fear,
Tory papers, online warriors …
No pills for your ills
No pills
For
Your ills
© Davey Payne
About Davey
Davey Payne writes poetry which is often polemic, sociopolitical and anthropological pieces that reach into history to raise questions about the contemporary state of society.
He is also a naturalist with a predilection for the psychogeography of urban as well as rural settings, particularly natural assets in his native Dumfries. He currently lives in Berwick-Upon-Tweed.
Powerful stuff