When the former me was writing away
All formalities were swept aside
Into the distance left far behind
Never judge a person if you’re so blind
This is between you and me and informality
Where dress codes have no form at all
Formally we were dressed and dusted
Until you made an enemy out of me
Forgone conclusions
A trick of the light split into a rainbow
Unnecessary agony
A broken halo sits on a dusty altar
When we form different words from the death of an albatross
With no remorse from a curse or its poisonous quills
Fantastic word play scrolling left on an ancient artefact
A freshly baked pie of hate cooling on your windowsill
We all form a line to our impending slaughter
Hands reaching out into the jaws of the guillotine
Mind your French if you don’t want to start a new revolution
Another riot in a town square between the eyes and a new beret
Rigid like death you stink of Formaldehyde
Once tasteless now you are just so formless
Even an amoeba has more brain power than you
Planning against it all while embracing death
When all life becomes just one long equation
A never-ending yet predictable formula
A confusing array of fixed points and pie graphs
That gets rewritten year after year
Just like the chalk on what use to be a blackboard
Our names are erased with such ease
Nothing left but powder to snort
Travelling to emptiness with the callous breeze
Hand in hand we blindly follow the flock of geese
Flying in formation hurrying before the sun sets
When things were clichéd and mice still liked cheese
We slept heavily not mulling over regrets
We have become so dumbfounded and secretly cloned
Following an invisible line to some mysterious destination
The whole world is playing a dead game of Blind Man’s Bluff
Pinning your hopes on horrorscopes and hierarchy
Frontline
Biting down on chapped lips the skin rips off unforgivingly
Cold wind makes a mess of your red rosy cheeks,
Conscious
Terrible affairs written in red underlining the things we said
Out of order and out of line as redundant as a pantomime
Storm front
Pushing the weather on a daily basis making a mess of the crazy paving
Lightning strikes more than twice injecting fear into something amazing
Dead line
Rushing to the queue pushing some more thrusting into action
End of the world, end of the line, end of all your quarrelling
We formerly were what we used to be
Drunk on youth and touching anarchy
Staying out was going against the rules
Looking back we were such fools
Now you all redefined and standing in line
Living a life that you formerly did not conceive
Bowing down to the whims of rotten society
Forgetting your agenda and everything you believed
Borderline
Dashing for the dashed lines filling up an old tin can
Shaved and shafted following the rules of your old man
Medium
Staying in the brackets keeping to divide with no cache overflow
No final rounding up of all the useless numbers you bestow
Form
Just another life form obeying that enemy don’t rock the boat
I am just another going against the grain sorry if started to gloat
A complex system of life of death
You better get in line soldier boy
If you don’t obey with what you have left
You will be eradicated like some toy
A military coup in the dowdy classroom
Shaved heads and silence greets the day
Conform you fuckers eat censorship for lunch
You will understand this is the only way.
Darren Hobson is a published poet who writes constantly and truthfully, mixing his palette of words with detail and enthusiasm, he writes about society, the general grind of daily live but also writes short stories about the supernatural and dark fairy tales. He has many eBooks and paperback books on offer why not delve deeper into this artists mind?
Darren Hobson Poet 