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Steven
Francis
I'm a 37 year
old poet living
in Carmarthen.
Been writing for
21 years,
poetry, plays,
essays.
Everything
inspires me,
music, film,
travel even politicians!
A few of my
favourite writers
include Ezra
Pound, Allen
Ginsberg,
Charles
Buckowski. But
time and time I
return to the
Romantics and
discover
something new. I
have three
collections of
poetry written
and find it the
perfect way to
express myself
freely.
As
Love Make an
Exit
All
those playful
things
that lovers do
turn to horror
films
when lovers go.
Usual senses
like
touch and smell
freeze in
cobwebs
woven in hell.
Not everything
lasts
and like tears
on frost,
love disappoints
and its spirit
is lost.
Dusk descends
on a empty
coffin,
the prayers have
gone
and long
forgotten.
Sometimes
there's pain
in what lover's
do,
the hurt of
leaving
when a lover
goes...
Top
Skin
Mirror
I
am the claw
tearing insanity
from sobriety,
the shine on
broken glass.
Or am I vanity?
Stalking
reflections in a
skin mirror,
admiring the
ghosts in my
head.
I am a promise,
falling from a
shabby jesters
lips
trying to
impress in a
cartoon.
Or am I
pornography?
Clutching onto a
tabloid dignity
in a flesh
alley.
I am a coffin
yawning from
below the
footsteps,
growing deathly
octopus
whiskers.
(Roses fall like
damned
nightmares
from the cancer
of mourners
above)
I am kitten
I am wolf,
I am youth.
I am Love
the glory haired
angel
with rainbow
chest and gold
for eyes...
Top
Porthgain
Every
day this vain
heart of mine
is breathless
with love
for the sight of
Porthgain.
With its
crumbling
morning
and
stickleback'd
trees,
into her arms
the sun is
falling.
I wish I was
stone and there
forever,
as long as my
sweetheart was
with me,
immortally
stoned together.
Watching stars
shine like
midnight graves
frozen in dance
like wasps in
tiny caves.
Across at the
Sloop they serve
dew on ice,
whilst waves
lick the door
like crazy dice.
Every day this
heart of mine
beats for my
fairykin
and grows in
Porthgain.
If I should die
before I smile
again
it will be
because
I missed you,
Porthgain...
Top
Keats
on Heat
Hockey
eyed
slack jawed
licked haired
lover
where is you?
I wait
baby faced
iced heart
by the locked
door.
Dumb phone
shut window,
for you
to call or kiss
love and argue.
Take mine eyes
from me.
Heartbeat
there you are,
criss cross
there you go.
Tongue tied
my soul forever,
throwing echoes
at thy fire...
Top
The
Rogue's Lament
In
my pocket I keep
the nightingales
song
and wear a
waistcoat from
the robins
breast,
cheated and
caged
with no wing or
tune,
conned out of
freedom
and nest.
I robbed the
wind
of its bitter
chill
and took the
silver
stars away.
I laughed at
death
and stole his
scythe
but he steals
from me
today.
In either
crooked tavern
or den of
thieves
never a bad 'un
I've met,
and under the
headstone
that I shall lay
will one day
pay my debt...
Top
Submission Guidelines:
Poems of no more than 30 lines in length each will be
considered.
Post your poems to
Featured Poets, Forward Press Ltd,
Remus House, Coltsfoot Drive, Peterborough PE2 9JX (Write your name and
address on each piece of work you send)
Or email your poems to inbox@forwardpress.co.uk
(Enter Featured Poets in the subject line, including your name and
postal address)
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