Edwin Hopper Poems

This bloke wants to be a poetry star.
Stand up and show off his brand new essay,
In the Art House Café on Above Bar.
...

Fifties Bristol, playing on a bomb site.
I didn't think of it as urban blight.
It was normal. The Blitz, our Dad's great fight.
in the old days. Nothing now to excite.
...

There's crematorium smoke up the flue.
He's going to heaven is Uncle Lew.
through a magic sky of Bristol Blue,
where Concorde and Brabazon flew.
...

Hall black, she sits, clothes tight, bent double.
Tablet on lap smiling lyrical trouble

she stands. Breathes deep to calm her nerves,
...

Grandmother said, when young, that she,
motoring to the Devon Sea,
would always stop in Salisbury,
by the market, for Scones and Tea.
...

We watch thin refugees, crawl from the ocean.
Trying their best to make our fun falter.
Darling. Rub my back, with suntan lotion.
...

Almost Christmas and heathen mistletoe
watches me pull my stomach in below.

You stick your boobs out and give me a smile.
...

(Microdebitage is defined as
flint knapping residue less than 1 mm in
maximum dimension.)
...

We've always treated each other right.
Now things are getting close to the end.
I'll stand with you against the fall of night.
...

Not much point really to Valentines day,
sending anonymous text or card,
You need courage, to actually say,
...