Poem -
The Bastard Brick
Hits
Like the
Bastard brick
ThatÂ
Brian Davies threw
When we were only nippers
By the rushing gushing stream
HurtsÂ
Like theÂ
Splashing cold
That
Soaked us to the skin
When we were only nippers
Long before life made us old
before we knew of love and loss
and life and breath and dead and
death before we knew the sky's
just air and no kind god was ever
there to care
M ~
Â
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Comments
Marion there's a Brian Davies living in every valley and his abode is that end house next to a pile of bricks.
Wonderful to read and the last lines read like one of those old Victorian poems who were big on God and praising Him, singing his divine laurels in verse, but you have, it seems to me, to have spun that around on poetries head and reversed it through your closing lines to great affect.
Thanks Marion and love your choice of title. x.
Â
Lol..yea...I'm always slagging god off these days Shaun and if I ever get to meet him in person should he exist...let's just say I'll have a lot to say to him...who says poetry has to be pretty anyway...thanks so much for taking the time my friend x