Don Pearson Poems

(For Julia Howe and to our grandchildren)

I am a tiger, roaring,
and you run, screaming, to hide
...

I have caught tears in my mouth,
washed in the dust of the dead,
...

(For everyone involved in Poetry Teignmouth)

They wait in ambush,
poems by writers
...

Let us be divested of our identities,
deprived of our voices,
consigned to waiting rooms.

Let us be parcelled into boxes,
...

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for they shall be beloved by their exploiters.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit nothing and yet be satisfied.
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be renowned after they have been killed.
Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs
...

(for Suzanna)

Christmas blossom fades:
A newborn daughter cries out
...

Privatisation
Shortage of staff
Emergency repairs
Signal failures
...

(for Elvina)

Abandoned stone heads
Survey wasted treeless land –
...

Flying ant day dawns:
The glut is unheralded,
...