Two Poems from Ian Lewis Copestick

The Ghost Of Chris Passed

As I wander the
Streets at night
I see a young couple
Moving into a flat
That a mate of mine
Lived in, before he
Died of cancer.
I wonder as I wander
If the flat picked up
Frequencies from my
Friend, or us, his friends
As we partied there.
Are they woken in
The night by the
Tssshht of cans of
Special Brew opening ?
Or the crinkle of tin
Foil as substances
Are smoked from it ?
Or the rustle of rizla
Papers as they roll
Up a spliff ?
In a way, I hope so.
So that Chris, or at
Least a part of him
Lives on. He deserves
That much at least.

 

Summer’s Last Stand

Today feels like
Summer’s last stand.
It’s the end of August
Yet it must be the
Hottest day of the year.
The sweat it drips
As the alcohol slips
So easily down my
Throat. It’s one of
Those days when
England doesn’t feel
English. Everyone is
Having too much fun
For boring, grey old
England. At times like
This I feel more European
And I don’t understand
My countrymen, or
Women.
Who wants to be cold, Buttoned up, drinking
Endless cups of tea ?
When you can feel cool,
Continental, smoking
Cigarettes and consuming
Cocktails, or cold beers
On the street, under an
Umbrella ?
What is this fear of
Being cool that seems
To affect my people ?
Whatever, while the
Sun keeps shining
We can have our fun
And try to forget that
We are the repressed,
Repressive, reactionary
Country that we are
And enjoy the last
Stand of Summer.

 

Bio: Ian Lewis Copestick is a 46 year old writer from Stoke on Trent England 

Although he started writing poetry back in 2001, due to a lack of self confidence and a lack of any idea where to send his work to, he began submitting his work for publication in summer 2018.

Since then he has had over 170 pieces published in over 20 e-zines.

His debut book, a collection of poetry entitled ” Detritus Of The Drunken Night ” was published by Cajun Mutt Press in April 2019.

It’s available through Amazon.

detrius

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