Three Poems by Ian Lewis Copestick

Ian Copestick, Poetry, Punk Noir Magazine
Suddenly Something
I’ll be out, walking with my dog
On a cold, wet, dark winter night
When suddenly something happens
It may be the way the light from
A shop sign bounces off the wet pavement
And that’s it, I’m off !
My mind is racing, the adrenaline’s
Flowing and in my head I’m writing
Faster than I can ever write it down.
These are the moments I live for.
The sad thing is that what I end up with
Is always a pale shadow of what
Was in my mind.
But I have to keep trying
One day I’ll get it right.
 Some Memories
Some memories seem to lurk in the
Lower reaches of your mind.
Just waiting for the moment when
They can pop up to hurt you the most.
Like the blue tinge to a friend’s face
As you watch them overdose, or
When a boss totally humiliates you
But you can’t say a word because
You need the job. When a so called
Friend takes great delight in telling
You that they’ve seen your wife
With another man.
These are the reasons why people drink
And take drugs. But no, such memories
Never die. They burrow deep into your brain
To leap out and accost you when
They can cause the most pain.
It’s Hard To Believe
It’s hard to believe
despite all the evidence
that this is really
all that there is.
How can such an
incredible feat of
design and engineering
be made to end up
rotting and stinking
decomposing in the
ground ? To have
intense feelings, to be
capable of literature
of such depth and
insight. Music that is
so beautiful it can
reduce me to tears.
Philosophy that turns
my mind in circles. To
have the capacity to
create these wonderful
things, it seems overly
cruel that at the end of
our three score years
and ten, we just
disappear and none
of it matters at all.
There MUST be more
to life than this. There
MUST, or it’s all a vile