Category: ps poems

This is a security announcement . Please do not leaveBags unattendedBags left unattendedMay be removedWithout warningOr destroyedOr damagedBy the security services. .Bags left unattendedMay be sequesteredAnd kept in a dark roomWithout the permissionOr knowledgeOf friends or family.In the public interestBags left unattendedMay be opened andThe contents investigated.Bags may be movedTo another locationWithout the permissionOr knowledgeOf the owner orHis/her representative.Bags left unattendedMay be destroyedIf they cannot be opened.ManagementReserves the rightTo take such measuresAs requiredIn the interests of the public. .Bags may be destroyedBy controlled explosionOr surgicallyBy sophisticated equipmentSuch as precision drones.Or we may nail them to the tailOf a startled dogAnd explode themIn the presenceOf the perpetratorsOf the leaving of the bagUnattendedOr in the presenceOf those with intent,Presumed or otherwise,So to do. . Bags left unattended mayIf necessary andin the public interestBe damaged by battering themWith hammers orAttacking them withEdged instrumentsThat will leave welts and cutsIn their plush leatherOr slit the tartan printOf a Gucci handbag. . In the interests of the publicThe security servicesMay beat the bagsWith baseball batsUntil they fall apartLike a piñataAnd the contents spill outAnd the liquids in them run.Do not believe but thatWe will exterminateAnd crush themLike watermelonsTill their pips squeak. . This is a security announcement..  © Peter...

It’s the season for picking grapes. Mist in the morning softens the cold And sunshine warms their skins As the shadows lengthen. Now Is a time for creation or undoing. Bulging bags of dark mystery Have swollen from spring-tight berries Once prickly with sour goodness. Ripe now with sugar, but teetering Between perfection and wind-burn, Between the mellow fruitfulness of Keats And Eliot’s dull head among windy spaces. Heavy on the branches They feel the promise of their...

Softer than your skin is airThat breathes the night on meThe sky a web as soft as hairI stroke — to touch, to be. Darkness bigger than this acheWhich dark in me is freePin-points of light that takeMine in their wide asymmetry. © Peter...

Go slowly at first. You are far more preciousThan the car you are driving. Don’t be rushed.Even in a traffic jam, everything has its pace,And you are just starting. Be as calm as you can beAnd learn to laugh at other people’s ways –Eventually you’ll laugh with compassion. Go smoothly up the gears but be awareSometimes you’ll drop the clutchAnd gears will grind and clunk –Don’t be embarrassed, that’s just life.The important thing here is to disengageBecause there is always time. Put your foot downOn the clutch, not the accelerator andIf you stall again, take that as part of life as well. Don’t worry if someone behind you hoots –Above all, don’t let their rage become yours.Stop somewhere safeAnd share a smile with the sky. (C) Peter Stewart ...