tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21154217189737284052012-02-16T10:18:23.111ZJackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.comBlogger91100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-66670858166247147602008-11-25T16:06:00.006Z2008-12-18T22:01:43.317Z

Shied away from lazy sulphur streetlights;away to dark with the other spiders,where damp brick-corner waits,grates to ease her backand shadow seeks to comfort,untilwheels screechand she's up again - clutchingpoison, like a life machine - stumblingthrough the pristine-silver city,unaware of it allbut the poison peddlers -their warmth and blightand the sting of the cold outside.

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-70296627137361680052008-11-18T20:22:00.003Z2008-11-18T20:30:04.272Z

I'm currently working on a little project - a poetry book. I hope to progress further with it steadily, and hopefully finish it at some point in the future!I'll still be posting poems on here regularly, but perhaps not quite as regularly as before. So if there's a little gap in my posting, please keep coming back, because I've not given up; I'm simply dividing my time between revision/exams, book

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-31482346381855527712008-11-10T16:33:00.005Z2008-11-10T22:06:49.730Z

He stood at the gravesin silence, abhorrence,while the wind whistledin his earslike an insult,to those he'd lost.The wind;the insult,coiled up the sky,then snapped it back asthunderous laughter - tauntto his futile stoicism.He found his throat -found it void ofall but guttural noise,and gulped it back down:the swelling of eyes and heartamongst the rain,as the sting drowned out the depths.

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-73151424153205492172008-11-04T16:21:00.007Z2008-11-06T21:49:26.036Z

i)The Killersprinted, silently.Dressed in night, he outsmarted his prey;     he turned and vaulted -     took the fence.Resistance ignored him, gravity too -no order he couldn't obey.     He fumbled for the shiny dagger-blade,     felt no handle for retreat.He drove it, twisted, split the flesh;screams began, theblood ran.It shouted, squealed,and clutched the wound:The victim reeledand gulped for

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-57228290953051797902008-10-28T17:57:00.010Z2008-11-26T22:57:43.429Z

I bring you an apple,shiny fresh sin -a blood red kissto meet your lips.I aim to take the eyes you stole,that stare at you while I wither, old.I bring an endto your good looksand empty smile,your life - a crook.It's all downhill from here,no doubt,you've had a bite;now you're out.You're no challenge to my beauty;now you're cold, andstill -I'm old.

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-60276901790640601932008-10-24T16:06:00.005+01:002008-10-24T16:11:48.997+01:00

The blogging poet, Billy Jones, just featured a post about me on his 15 Minutes of Fame section of his blog. Entitled 15 Minutes at 15, it features one of my poems from this blog and gives me great hope for the future!Thanks again Billy!To visit the post, follow this link; I'm sure you'll find something else on his blog that interests you there:http://bloggingpoet.squarespace.com/bloggingpoetcom/

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-68652850472765452702008-10-20T18:50:00.000+01:002008-10-20T18:51:31.555+01:00

The soldiers left. They didn’t run, flee,simply they walked;shrouded by false civility. I watched them stretch awayfrom my house -where I remembered playingthe games of young children,in bleached yellow days. I remembered the rules they had set- my brothers -for playing those gamesdefunct now, as the yellow sun metthe soldiers, in mud on the hills;in the distance -a line of death crawledaway from

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-78247720257687510662008-10-20T18:49:00.001+01:002008-11-04T21:45:53.309Z

                           Veteran timbers hold under his feet                 where the incessant clawing of surf trembles them,      stretching venerably out to sea,a ladder to his shallow grave expanse.                              Instrumental to their insidious plans,                       baited waves take the chance to strike!            and veteran timbers’ trembling resistanceis

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2115421718973728405.post-78736787915672743992008-10-20T18:48:00.000+01:002008-10-20T18:49:15.739+01:00

Hello to anyone reading this message! My blog begins today, and soon I’ll start publishing my poetry here. This is just the start, and I hope to have it full of my work soon. It’s quite exciting really - it’s only small scale now, and incredibly bare, but sooner or later (and probably later), I’ll have it all filled up, and it’ll act as an archive for my works. Drop back soon; things are going to

Jackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040707053786581680noreply@blogger.com0