Heckled Guilt

Tonight at the dverse poets pub Ingirid invited us to take a look at pain in poetry. I have gone with the pang of guilt i felt at putting a heckler down at an open mic. I have suffered at the hands of bullies a lot in my life and even now i still feel guilty at standing up to them. i know i should not but i cannot fight my inner empath.

https://dversepoets.com/2021/10/12/poetics-from-a-place-of-pain/

Stood up front at open mic,

To share our home planets pain,

At our greedy ways.

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Repugnant quip hurled,

Pendulous silence thwacks

The clamour from the room.

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Mind Lost in fleeting shock untill,

Heckler put down uttered in irritation,

Heckler mocked and muzzled.  

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My poetry set concluded,

Empathy thrusts into being,

Why My guilt trip kicks in,

 at my uttering of heckler put down.

early opn mic

© 12/10/2021 rogleach

2022 #Dverse

This following passage was written for Dverse poets pub prosery prompt on Monday 11/10/2021.  To celebrate the poet T.S. Elliot. To do this we are writing a prosery piece of no more than 144 words which has to include the line “What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow out of this stony rubbish.”

Prosery: The Waste Land

October 31st 2022.

I am the last Englishman. My country chocked on its own bigotry and self-righteous attitude. We built ourselves up into the beasts who live under the beds of the indigenous people of this beautiful world.

I sit overlooking the Thames on Oct 31st 2022 as the sun goes down. The words of T.S Elliot “What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow out of this stony rubbish.” Drift through my mind as I watch the corpses of London float past.    

As a poet I open the eyes of my nation to it’s historical bullying in the name of progress. we never got past the cave man thinking of we own the land and ignoring the fact we are of it.

I leave this note to say sorry dear Earth for our transgressions. I now leap to join the other corpses in the river!

© 11/10/2021 rogleach