The Serulian

i’m getting old now-

you know,

like that tree in the yard

with those thick cracks

in its skinbark

that tell you

the surface of its lived-in secrets.

my eyes,

have sunk too inward

in sleepless sockets

to playback images

of ghosts-

so make do with words

and hear the sounds

of my years  in yourself.

childhood-

riding a rusty three-wheel bike

to shelled-out houses bombed in the blitz,

then zinging home zapped in mud

to wolf down chicken soup

over lumpy mashed potato for tea-

with bare feet sticking on cold kitchen lino

i shivered watching the candle burn down

racing to finish a book i found in a bin-

before Mam showed me her empty purse

and robbed the gas meter-

the twenty shillings

stained the red formica table

like pieces of the man’s brains

splattered all over the back seat

of his symbolic limousine

as i watched history brush out her silent secrets.

Strider Marcus Jones is a poet, law graduate and former civil servant from Salford, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. He is the editor and publisher of Lothlorien Poetry Journal. A member of The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry reveal a maverick, moving between cities, playing his saxophone in smoky rooms.

His poetry has been published in over 200 publications worldwide including: The Huffington Post USA; The Stray Branch Literary Magazine; Crack The Spine Literary Magazine; and Dissident Voice. You can find him on Twitter at: @StriderPoet.