Discount Town

Introduction: Through a bland town, across a beige chewing gum minefield pavement, through the indoor market filled with the noise of sales and desperate pitch, second-hand sounds and the bloody sweet smell of the butchers stall, I wander into a town called Discount.

 

Husbands hen-pecked

holding shopping lists miles long

plod and dare not

put a single foot wrong.

 

Texting people

miss sight of homeless

forget their pound

socially acceptable pocket fumble

stare at ground.

 

Middle ranged woman

low of moral stock

sips her coffee

under the broken

town clock.

 

God preacher in middle of square

deaf crowd, do not hear, do not care.

Carries on preaching

voice disappearing

into hire purchased

thin air.

 

In the betting shop of magician’s riches

shadows and mirrors

curses and twitches

sits an old man, rolled cigarette in one hand

necessity in the other and desperation eyes

a look of his mother.

 

Politicians promise

advertising for derelict lies

on the side of a future promised

affordable

refurbished

high-rise.

 

This was the story of Discount Town

cigarette haze

this unemployment phase

let’s all remember the better days

a complex of shopping

we are all lost

all lost

in this credit maze.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.

Sandman Trip

What destination will I take tonight

when sandman takes me on his sleep flight.

A subconscious choice made for me

not in control of my dreams destiny.

Will I see friends of past times gone

a time when we were more as one.

Will there be horrors on the trip

rooms locked

sinking ship

lead feet

or

falling pit.

Sandman Ill leave you to surprise

the trip is yours

seen through only my eyes.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.


Daydreamer

Daydreamer, where have you gone?

All those days to dream, still near, not gone.

Daydreamer where have all your dreams gone?

 

When you look through life’s looking-glass, do you see a long-lost past?

A distant memory, a line on a horizon shore

or more of life’s predictable ocean

to sail ever more.

 

Was your dream too big, or courage too little?

to dare to play life’s uncommon fiddle.

A familiar tune more appealing

alas, not as revealing.

 

And when you look into the pale reflection of your valleys brow

do you see her love lost and wonder how

the day dreaming stopped

Somewhere

Somehow?

 

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.