the poet of peckham

observations of a house-mate

The Poet of Peckham

One love, one voice

Open heart, his choice

His path, his goal

It hurts, his soul

Competitive warrior, life extreme

His hopes, his dream

Reaches out, part-time

Finds love, sublime

Moved house, took some chances

Works hard, advances

Drives himself, God knows where

Gains recognition, from those who care

Has taken knocks, a wounded lion

Broad shoulders, some can cry on

Intelligence, missed by school

Going places, no-one's fool

Scary mood swings, gives it all

Euphoric highs, sometimes fall

Profoundly-gifted, beyond the norm

Who knows what these gifts will form?

Empathetic, likes to write

Deeper work than this old shite!

Who knows where his journey ends?

A life fulfilled, with faithful friends

Loves a challenge, and heavy rock

Independent, born to shock

If life's best things come from hard work

This guy's sorted, no office clerk

A final plea to those on site

Beware his metrosexual might!

Author's Note

Wrote this a while back, noting observations of a house-mate, at the same time as "Thanks for the memory". Some of you may recognise the subject!?

Reviews

[Angela]

This is an incredible poem. I want to know this man! lol. Great fluidity and imagery. always love your writing.

[Sukriti Suki]

Nice one..interesting.

[Arabdha]

the rhyming is great..brilliant and flawless writing :)

[Kiri Nells]

Interestingly different- a creative and original structure that works so well with the rest of the poem. Another great write!

[Pebbles]

love the flow of this poem and it made me smile :)

[LA Lorena]

I love this witty poem, it is very funny, showcases your sense of humour well. Great rythym and flow to this, your control is great. I sensed an underlying desire to say more: so was it propriety , fear of reprisal or common sense that reeled that back in? ;-)

[.]

brilliant!! made me laugh..great title..thought it was going to be about delboy!!!!

[cartera]

Guess it is my Gaelic blood, but I kept waiting for his downfall.
It is a song of the working-class poet who, through something: a good teacher, a public library, a book-reading parent, has viewed the light and is writing his way toward it. Beware the coming man.
The rhythm of it picks up your joy in writing it.
Well done.
ATB
Alex.

[Rossen]

like a fine metronome pacing the way,
you wrote a positive piece on potential
good feeling about this one