Wednesday, 21 June 2017

Poetry Thursday 268 - Social consciousness

So far it has been a black year but the depths were plumbed at the Grenfell Tower block.

Image result for grenfell


Hot flames enveloped the towering edifice,
raging, flickering, casting cavorting shadows,
through the capitol night’s ebony skyline,
visible for miles and yet ignorable.
These were homes holding people to their bosom,
providing safe havens, resting places, or so they thought.
Daily dramas played out seem massive,
but nothing compared to this.
They were snuffed out with cauterising heat in a few hours.
Went to bed happy, secure and safe in the knowledge of tomorrow, but for the crackling, roaring, leaping force,
that travels surreptitiously, wearing its thick black cloak,
that kills silently.
It changed the natural order of things for many – no tomorrow.
In the aftermath kind acts, generous donations, bitter weeping, lost expressions and vanished futures.
Fire knows no colour or creed.
All in its path are nourishment driving souls to their Gods.
Anger has grown as did the flames, craving support,
wanting help, searching for signs of a future.
But there was nothing.
Platitudes, promises of more talk but a lack of real aid.
No homes or places for daily care for the stricken remainder.
Nowhere to live,
stay in a high rise hotel,
But there you go – have some cash!
©David L Atkinson June 2017

Image result for red mist

Red Mist

We are all the same,
everything except for name,
we’re all in need of love,
from everywhere and above.

But whatever we don’t,
even coerced we won’t
a flaw in our wiring,
fear others aspiring.

Instead we rant and rage,
reading a different page,
adopting reasoned absurdity,
and wallowing in angry.
©David L Atkinson June 2017

God Bless