�
Selected Poems
By Simon Phillips
An accident
An accident,
'He was driving far too fast'
He's always driven fast.How cold and bare
Upon a bed of stone his body lies.
And in the mortuary
What says he now?Expressionless and white,
He is just dead.
Confession Of A Theft At The Dart Valley
Railway Souvenir Shop At Buckfastleigh StationSo Mother
You never knew your Son
To be a thief,
But I confess.When you worked at the
Dart Valley Railway Souvenir Shop
At Buckfastleigh Station,
Did you never wonder why I was so keen
To go in early
And mop the floors
Before you came To open up?And did you never suspect
That I might dip my paws
Into the giant whisky bottle
That was filled with money
Given by tourists to help
With the preservation
Of the steam trains?Ah, but no one ever knew.
Not even Ivor, my best friend.
How now am I to stand In your esteem?�
Rooms Of Furry Filth
When I am old
And strewn out
Like a loafing layer of lard
Upon my favourite chair,
Reflecting on my memories
With body still and eyes that stare
In rooms of furry filth...When I am old
And fallen
On the linoleum covered floor
Of the lavatory,
A pathetic decrepit wrinkly skinned body
With its own little boring story
Of a wasted life...When I am dead
And can no more prick your conscience.
When I am ashes in a pewter urn,
When I am no more of concern,
Remember you are in the queue
Behind me,
Waiting for your turn.�
Fear Of Dying
I fear death more than anything
And I know that it will come.
I sometimes lapse into a lump
Of trembling anti fun
Which spills out a dreariness
That stains everything black,
And it's unsnappable outable of
Like another click on the rack.
But I am stretched enough.I cannot stand the thought of getting old
And staring out from within a wrinkled shell,
But euthanasia is not the answer
Because I do not want to die
Whatever the pain or the hell.
And as I cannot have immortality
I must live with the inevitability
That one day I shall cease to exist
As a conscious entity.�
Lonely Husk
When the streets are warm with the smell of you
And shapes cast shadows on corners at dusk,
Then I must make my move or never do,
For fear I shall remain a lonely huskWhich is filled with a seed it will not sow,
Like a secret that's kept and never told.
But if I leave it late and you should go,
Or if I do not dare and grow too oldSo that you think I will not ever ask,
But stall and use excuses where and when
Appropriate, and hide behind a mask
Where you'd deservedly despise me then,It's plain I'd be a worthy fool indeed
To pause a moment longer than I need�
Sadness
I know what sadness is, I've trod that way
So often that it has become hard earth.
I've felt the stomach burns of love's dismay
And suffered sorrow twice what it was worth.I've sat and stared from windows in the rain.
You went and now there's nothing more to see,
But on your sheet I may have left a stain
By which one day you will remember me.When I look back time seems to go so quick,
The memories are more, the future less.
I am frightened by the speed the years tick
By, though the thought of this I can suppress,But if I were forgotten like a leaf
I do not think I could contain my grief.�
�