Oliver Cobbin

An Intimate Evening with the Inmates

Another life, another man, idle work for bridal hands

Her latest prize in a long succession, of freaks and bores with sad obsessions

With a bone to pick and a flower to chew, lurks at the back of every queue

Peace of mind from love’s stability, a shot at fame, fortune, nobility

 

Another day, and now it starts, dealing with the Queen of hearts

Dizzying acoustics and fuzzy embellishments, backdrops for every sightless president

With seconds to spare to set a precedent, too quick to judge but also hesitant

To be ahead of the times but also be relevant, declare the truth, don’t insult our intelligence

And whilst society’s judges are all well read, its underbelly isn’t well fed

Stop these thoughts, put them to bed, kissed goodnight and calmly said.

Your wife is blind and your kids are deaf, but you cry out in the night, they’re all you have left

You stole her heart and she accused you of theft and now you’re alone and feeling bereft

The rain always bites as you step out of the door into the life that has all but wants more

 

So take a shot and do your worst, your bullets have gone whilst your weapon is words

Tongue-tied to the train line while the villain prances

On your street of memory where the dame dances

Sit tight and think of lost romances but don’t question me, when you’re out of answers

I never asked to be blessed with the gift of awareness

For the people who are lost but in all unfairness, they are the forgotten ones who suffer from blindness

So accept your sceptre and we’ll crown you your highness, and in return you’ll bless us with guidance

But the clock is a-ticking and nobody’s timeless

 

So they shoot the poet who bared his soul, for having thoughts too dark to unroll

He read the rhymes of sacred pillars, whilst all his heroes were serial killers

His body decays, as the lunatics gaze, out of the frame that holds them for being amazed

They’ll never desist until they receive epitaphs but life is bad memories and blurred photographs

Misread quotes and forgotten laughs, until it gets too much and the years just elapse

 

And as the world crumbles in on itself, it’s time to ask is there anyone else?

Breathing as if it’s the last time we can before the day of tranquillity, the end of man

You sigh and you weep for all of humanity, am I the one who’s sane or is that insanity?

No excitement today but ignore the banality, look in the mirror to ensure your own vanity

Whilst everyone else deals with fatalities, breathe once more to improve vitality

Whilst death continues the pattern of brutality, you question yourself and your own morality

Everyone else wants you to have their mentality, but don’t be alarmed, it’s just reality



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.