Some Poems, Page 2

  Rebel’s Epitaph

  At sixteen, he set about the task

  In which he sat himself and asked,

  When time is up, when stood alone,

  How best scratch his years on stone?

  For fear of nearing tragedy he worked

  To find the words that freely said the best of worst

  And so penned the lines

  That in his mind,

  Justified his selfish crimes:

  “I sought to be a man of leisure,

  But then leisure met the better of me.’

  Ghosts II

  As it falls, clad in shadow,

  Their hurried heels abhor

  The spectre,

  A spring petrichor.

  Horizon

  Clouds,

  Quietly framed, aflame.

  The Earth,

  Speckled damp, with rain.

  Another Tired Epiphany

  For years he strived,

  Worked hard, and blind,

  To the reach the place

  That promised a mind.

  And once arrived

  He fell, struck, to find,

  That there are no answers,

  Only lies.

  Confession

  Her eyes, redolent of a river’s tremor,

  Startled me from sleep.

  Petroleum

  I wonder how much

  A barrel of blood,

  Costs in dollars...

 

  About The Author:

  Oliver Delgaram-Nejad currently studies English & Creative Writing at Falmouth University, Cornwall.

  Other Collections:

  Coffee and Cigarettes

  (2007) – erbacce press

  Sentiments

  (2011) – erbacce press