A poem by Alan Whitfield Enough rope given…

Enough rope given…

Hello you !
How are you !
What’s up with you !
It’s always you !

A tough call to make.
In my desperation
a path to take.

Then a hand-made platform of Ice.
Cold and fragile with a façade of nice.

The laughing bubbles burst
The smiling wrath uncurls.
The wrath of a mediocre minus empathetic vacuum

Your dullness aspires as you conceive with liars.
Your eyes burn like fires the shape shifting aspires.
Yourself imposed in the mires still one aspires.
Your only the coy glances aspire your chances.
Your aspiring to that hand-made platform of ice.

I ask myself

Aspiration or Bastardisation


Author: alanwhitfield80

Hello! I get about a bit so here about me first. I am a visual artist and poet who works within the context of fine art. My work is grounded in documentary, exploring the inner beauty of everyday life through various lens based media. Notions of nostalgia and social commentary are present, but from a definite northern working class perspective. Instinctively I exploring the townscapes of North Wales and the North West, often producing work that reflects the every day minutiae of life.

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