Treasure Island

Leslie Philibert

(6th March 1954 / London, England)

Another Bad Night


A black hood has been forced over my head,
a thousand unborn children sing in my garden,
I cannot be switched off.

Voices rough with tobacco are planning my demise,
they lurk full of malice before my house,
a distant televsion frees waves of laughter.

The darkness starts from the ground and reaches
to the top of the sky, I wan`t to tear out the stars
but they are too hot, like lightbulbs.

My stolen sleep has been pushed like a dummy
into an old suitcase, it rests ignored on a lighted pavement
next to the brumming diesel of a standing bus.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 11, 2012

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  • Lyn Paul (8/22/2012 4:43:00 PM)

    Beautiful description, particularly the lightbulbs. Great. Thank You (Report) Reply

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