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Lee Allen

of

Kenilworth, England, UK

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Straitjacket sea shanties.

by

Lee Allen


Straitjacket world,
Come envelop my arms,
Tie me into your comfort,
Arrest my distress,
Pain my crooked sense,
Address my anger,
Dress my tears,
Stiffen my fears,
Embrace my detractors,
Clothe my insanity,
Restrain my jailers,
Whose safety is reassured?

Straitjacket world,
Come navigate beyond this ship of mutiny,
Release me from your ignorance,
Set free that troubled boy,
Swaying with naiveties legs,
Crying on bunks of confusion,
Tied up in troubled waters,
His anchor weighs heavily below,
S.S DROPER sinking into its hull.
Irish sea washes wounds into channels of loss,
Drying upon his port never to muster upon the deck of his dreams.

Straitjacket world,
Come release the straining past,
Cleanse its gale force frustration,
Bridge its destiny,
Drain its empty cargo seaward bound,
Batten down its choppy turbulence,
Calm it's dockside murmurs,
Withdraw its gangplank of uncertainty,
Voyage upon its passing,
Tomorrow it sets sail for its Newfoundland,
Galley boy serving now such utensils of nutrition,
His salty settling seas wake upon oceans peace.


My nightmare begins at breakfast.

by

Lee Allen


Ashes burn my heart,
Wounded by reality,
The texture of my life has been washed clean away.
A water hydrant spills gallons of truth on the
Moonlight hours of my sleep.
Saddening limbs nurse tiredness,
Awakening tears dampen hunger,
Cutting bread spreading butter,
Swallowing bitterness,
Blood stained fingers bent,
Flesh wound quelled,
A sticking plaster stems my sadness.
Witnessing my nightmare
Of concrete coldly laid,
Memories boom,
Bulldozers roam,
Choking diesel,
Thirstily consuming earth.
His yellow helmet flattening my world,
Wearing a carefree smile,
That chiselled brow
Spitting its soiled contempt upon my protest.
This sweating anger cannot placate the caged deer.
Obtrusive officials clandestine in their denial assured this would never happen.
My sylvan paradise uprooted,
Scorched from this earth.
Once rejuvenated days sweetened their hours upon the scent of pine,
Bumblebees swooned to pollen secreted blue bells.
What hath man achieved,
Greedily denying his nature.
Capitalism crushes my limbs,
Stonewalling such wanton construction,
Can I raise your conscience?
What price are we paying for such progress?
This scrambled breakfast scene,
Iím ravaged by its destruction.
Forlornly perched on a tree a magpie spies my eye,
Flying skywards reaching freedom,
He knows not of man's foolhardiness,
His domain is the sky,
Does he feel this shrinking world?

That blackened room, Loneliness arriving at the home of acceptance.

by

Lee Allen


That blackened room,
Its impervious walls of doom.
Laid upon its bed,
Unfulfilled childhood dreams,
Its mother couldn't nurture her kin,
Dressed in denied abuse,
A closed world of whispered secrets,
Never kissed upon her children,
Those hands shrank from love within.
Shivering coldness enveloped that boy,
His home was a house of empty feelings,
It dried wallpaper thin tears,
It polished tables clean with veneers of loneliness.

That blackened room,
Its bed ruffling sheets of despair.
Stark sardonic walls,
Blinded by their plight.
Curtained anger,
Closed upon its depression.
Drawn back from its past,
Windows pained by their experience.
Doors fired by hope,
Spring realities warmth,
Heated by reflection,
Comforted by its beauty.

That blackened room,
Its walls coloured by light.
Floored by its need not to be scared,
Furnished with hope,
Decorated by acceptance,
Made over to be joyously blue.
Warming to fireside peace,
Its bedside chair covered in life,
Breathing contented lightness calmly seated,
Awakening hollowing emptiness to its demise,
Alarm clocks no longer striking headaches painfully down.

That blackened room,
Is coloured by life,
It radiates that boy into games of happiness.
It accommodates his reality,
Its windows create salvations answers into being,
Its skirting boards level onto carpeted comfort,
Furnishing optimism homeward bound.
This bedroom is more than a playground,
Is more than a room,
Is more than the past,
Is more than the future,
It is one childís life experience,
He can now come and go as he pleases.

Railroaded dreams sunk.

by

Lee Allen


Space
Behind
Self
A million miles parted their goodbyes.
It never ended,
Parents disintegrated union separated this platform,
Waving endlessly to the son who could never let go,
Never let go of the hurt gripping his carriage.
It dug deep within,
Cutting his innards,
Shafting his pain,
What anger he felt,
What abandonment,
Yet could he let go,
Could he express his heartfelt self.
Upon his seafarers bunk,
He cried to his mother,
He cried to his father,
Could he be in fact sane.
Bring me a straight jacket,
Bring me its safety,
Tie me up in my pain,
Let me be safe in its arms.
Irelands verdant hills drunkenly rolled to Cork,
Echoed tear felt loss,
Loss to the sea of my dreams.
This boy he drank his goodbye,
On Air Lingus,
This plane flew to worlds of unfulfilled dreams lost.

The cry of the wallowing head

by

Lee Allen


Wallowing head
Pillows cushion your fears,
Bedding sleeps your dreams,
Walls crush your screams,
Duvets spread such uncertainty,
Warming your confusion,
Awakening your pain,
Curtains drawing nightmares home.

Wallowing head
Hold not your brow,
Walk upon your world,
Seize its life,
Squeeze away those spots of depression,
Ooze out their dead heads,
Cleanse that wrinkled worried line,
Dress your distress,
Clothe those blues with purple, red, turquoise bright.

The Dawning

by

Lee Allen


Darkness may dim this view,
Obvious appearances seem true,
Reflections are kind upon the eye,
Buried beneath a lie,
Lies such loneliness,
Denying truths to one so honest,
What sacrifices remain?
Chessboard pieces checkmate,
Human species chance more to gain,
Lost in a glimmer of an hourglass,
Such splinters shatter this illusion.
Three characters lost in a second that it took to find them,
Each a reason to be,
All with something to lose.
One disbelieving soul not quite catching his breath,
Strengthens a resolve,
Blind as he may feel,
The dawning light,
Casting itís accusing rays,
Shall not run from this scene.
Sprung by surprise,
What a protagonist,
Risking a loss from both sides,
Edging her bets,
Safety in numbers,
Now the game is over,
How do we all feel?
One deceived upon boyfriend,
One disillusioned incurable romantic,
One confused weaver of webs,
We can all go home now,
to sleep lonely in our beds.

Oh my Scottish girl

by

Lee Allen


Oh my Scottish girl
How drunk am I
Why speak in foreign tongues
This wall is just moments
From your arms.
Built-in reserve
Decorated politeness
White washed conversations
Could there be more.

Oh my Scottish girl
How blinded are we
Why shape meaningless words
Onto lips that long to kiss.
Limbs long dismembered
Whither to feelings
Want holds eyes
Blinking at lies
Dancing around desire
Hope drowns to music.

Oh my Scottish girl
How was this night last
Why the lights remained dim
Indifferent rooms await loneliness
Pretence has triumphed again.
If love was meant to be true
I could have loved you.
Hands swallowed by goodbyes
Regret in waves
Clutching at dreams
How safe is this reality.

Oh my Scottish girl
How apart our oceans wash
Why swimming in alcohol.
I'd have gladly taken you home
If memories change perceptions
How could you forget?
Encapsulated in time
What truths ignored
Such warmth denied.

Oh my Scottish girl
Can I walk with you awhile?

Iíll Squeeze Harder

by

Lee Allen


Life is in my head
Once I could speak
I never needed you
Canít you tell the way I feel?
Iím a handsome young man
With no life
I'll squeeze harder
Upon your hand
Now can you feel the pain?
Iíve lain all stiff and knotted
For to many a year
I was once like you
I had life at my fingertips
The power was an enormous
Smashed to bits
Only seventeen
Why wasn't I killed?

Iíll walk with you a while

by

Lee Allen


Old man
Iíll walk with you
To a grave Iíve never seen.
You seem so at ease
Standing over your son's grave.
It puts me to tear
Iím speechless with sadness
Yet to stoop and pluck
Weeds from the grave.
I help now
Feeling somehow privileged
That you wanted me
To share with you your grief.
Flowers grow
On a memory
Of a child that you once cherished.
What remains of his life?
Is engraved on the head stone
All granite and white.
On a day forty-five years ago
He drowned in a canal
Yards from his home.
We walk home now
Past many more graves
But that little boys
Is the saddest memorial
That I can see.

Wallowing head.

by

Lee Allen


Wallowing head
Empty words
Indescribable reality
Terminally crying
Senseless waste
Chokes pain
Voids compose
Dancing voices
Hope collides
Reason denies
Wreckage sinking
Redden eyes
Drowning tears
Staining fears
Aloneness hears.

Wallowing head
Empty words
Straining walls
Weeping life
Concrete coldness
Shivering bleakness
Howling obscenities
Futility incomplete.

Flora and Fauna Love

by

Lee Allen

Pale rose glimmers lusciously sweet
trembling to a breeze
that blows your love across my heart.
Embracing cherished kisses
lustrous petals dazzle this day.
Skipping to a happiness
born strong and true
we are together in a sea of colour.
Walking amongst a flowering garden of love
we stem a tide of thorns
and reach a plateau of tranquillity.
Sunlight pierces the purity of the flora
shimmering luminous bright upon your blossoming beauty.
Swathed in contented harmony
the silken touch that I caress bathes me in ecstasy
such a dream can it be real.

Darkened Dragon Queen

by

Lee Allen

For a bunion is on her head
Red chiffon ties her to this spectacle
Oh what vanity
A child possessed
She totters precariously on platforms of pain
A darkened dragon
A Queen of the mirror
This lacquered creature is so insecure
Gloss paint wouldnít be a miss
On lips shocked by colour
Tribal chants should precede
The warring paint
Adorning such pallid skin
Misunderstood waif
Trussed up for a dinner
That wouldnít satisfy a dog
Poor victim of our times
Squeezed of sense
Bottle feed on unreality
Picturing fashion magazines as her identity
This slimmed hyena
All gaunt and drained
For a commercial image
Lived only on the front page.