Fern Hill

At 1:49 you will see the esteemed Mr Jakes reading a line from Fern Hill by Dylan Thomas for the 100 year anniversary. Diolch/Thanks for watching, it was an honour to take part.

Longer Run of Lust in Games

F**k.
Or Kcuf;
for narrow eyes and slender ends
this bearded scorpion
wants to Kcuf the all in ALL.
The N
or P
the J,
the T
the H,
letters all,
maybe love in a cramped mind...

© Steven Francis poems 2012

Poem To Lyric To Music

Tome Jangles
and merry sleight hands of crowds
followed ink slicks
across white sands to fret boards
where the devil lurked in muse shrouds.
Pages glowed in times of Man,
the sorrow, greed and joy
spread like harpies wings.

Prolific nightrain of a senseless breed
they sing and nail tales of death,
glory beds on foggy shores.
Strum bang jango!
Hail words and candy chorus
schemed bands from nettles in their wisdom
their joy bound lifts the hook.
A truth in streams
breath in hardcore lullabies,
trance to anaesthetise sombre hooded heads...

© Steven Francis poems 2012

Coal Man (Relative of Death)

I am no fun
tick no mercy in your box of chances
as I leap around your shaggy frame
to shake it into putrid mulch.
When I am done (this no good fun)
no medicine or friend will recognise you,
or son or daughter find comfort in holding fathers hand
as it withers in a paper bed.
Disease tenants,
I love you to death...

@ Steven Francis poems 2012

Kids Love Ponds

Fall to me father,
if only to call me son.
But no,
a starless sky simmers over a leather ocean
and hate nurtured in a wild chiselled youth
proves much too strong for turning back.
And down I fall alone....

@ Steven Francis poems 2012