Five Poems by Louis Kasatkin

 

DAILY


Turning the pages
of the daily papers,
day after day
pages turn
turning the days
page by page
of the,
Times, Telegraph, Express
Mail, Mirror, Echo
Post, Courier, Press
Examiner, Herald, Sketch
Argus, Mercury, Chronicle
Journal and Tribune;
Squinted at and scrutinised
on the morning bus and evening train
at the café table and library room,
The classified ads and nature notes
the town hall reporter and rugby correspondent,
the letters page and crossword puzzle
Read and re-read
page by page
turning the days
day after day
until they're read
no more.




HOROLOGION


When the Darkness crosses
our skies at Noon
the response
is to weep.


When the Blade crosses
our skin and flesh
the response
is to bleed.


When the Pain crosses
our endurance threshold
the response
is to scream;


and


When the Night crosses
our abandoned hopes
the response
is to dream.




SERIAL


Peering thro' the window
We smile
and the ghosts of our reflections
smile back;
this time we got away with it,
again and again until they catch us
We shall get away with it;
We're running low on disinfectant
the mops need replacing
and the drains need seeing to as well.
All in all
efficient as always
the climaxes just as thrilling
as always;
was that number nineteen
or twenty?
It's so easy for us to lose count.
Tomorrow morning's Papers will be
screaming for our capture.
We will read their headlines
as we take the morning metro
to our Office;
spending the day wondering
who will be next?
We'll catch ourselves
peering thro' the window
Smiling,
the ghosts of our reflections
will smile back,
as always.




The Girl With The Needle In Her Arm


The Girl crouches
by the railings at the
Station entrance,
her knees together
mucus running down her chin,
watery eyes
sticky pale skin,
vomit stained hair
hanging down in two
big tangles over her forehead.
The Girl massages her calf and thigh,
her right leg feels bloodless and numb,
her mascara streaked face a mask
where tears were forced out as she spewed.
Above her rainbows strobe across
the tourist postcard skyline,
proclaiming the nomenclature
of aspirational desires,
Apple, Cartier, Chanel, Mercedes-Benz.
The space around the Station
entrance railings is opaque,
no - one sees
no - one wants to see
the Girl's life exchanged
for an emptiness of nights
illuminated by giant screens
all evangelising how
the Dow Jones stock market index
has just ended the day
Higher.




Empty Cinema


We are film
We are narrative
our stories upon the Screen.
We are all that was
and could've been
We are hero, villain, coward and brave
Conqueror, vanquished, master and slave;
We are film
24 frames per second
We are the dream
on whom no-one reckoned,
and now as the credits roll,
We only see, we only are
there on that screen
flickering
flickering
fading
and
fading
and..

 

 

Louis Kasatkin is founder of Destiny Poets in the UK and Editorial Administrator at www.destinypoets.co.uk. For more than 20 years a Poet and Poetry promoter,Louis has been Poet-in-Residence at Wakefield Cathedral and workshop leader in schools and the wider local community.