Wolf and the Owl
Poetry, Lyrics, Translations
and Musings by Alex Etchart

Viewing: Poems

Shimmerer

By on Wednesday 7th December, 2016

For Siobhan Knox. As shafts of sun dance on your arm You cuddle me as your duvet I think: I know you I know you I know you but I don’t You shimmer In a now-you-know-me-now-you-don’t ritual Part-time enigma I

You Leave Me

By on Friday 31st October, 2014

You leave me Here Rock hard Tender skinned Glowing Your caresses Leave trails on my flesh That fade warm and slow Your kisses Ghost angel Dreamland droplets Your lips Endless waterfall Now pause Wonder if you were here at all…

Simmering Shimmering

By on Saturday 4th October, 2014

Listen… …do you hear it? Its the sound of simmering rage, The upset stomach of the communal consciousness, There’s a simmering anger, Primal fury building in pressure Hiddenly forbiddenly ferally festering With the occasional burst! …in the form of a

Wounded Warriors (Part One)

By on Thursday 12th June, 2014

When you held my hand to your chest As I cried that my lover had left me For the woman I set him up with In the hope that between the two of us he’d be satisfied And you told

Sod the Cynic Clinic

By on Thursday 13th February, 2014

I was always the one saying “we’re all so disconnected Nobody looks you in the eye – like the cold gene has infected!” Till I stumbled onto that train one day and felt the mood was right And said “I

The Poetics of Macdonalds

By on Tuesday 28th January, 2014

After excusing herself to shout in Hindi at her colleagues making breakfast, the worker turned back to say “no way, once my 10 hours is up, you think I stay one minute longer they don’t pay, for MacDonalds!?” and laughed.

Occupy Wins

By on Friday 13th September, 2013

Everyone made a name for themselves in the revolution got a hashtag, a website, a radio show they branded salvation with the latest photoshop logo and then ran brand new companies by ethics 2.0 I became a full time poet

Feather Hands, Scissor Heart

By on Thursday 12th September, 2013

Feather hands, scissor heart Forever doomed to tear apart The soft and pure who stray too near Sucks them in out of desperate fear Of never feeling a word called ‘love’ Caresses the hobbling hurt-wing dove And if deemed to

I Won’t

By on Wednesday 11th September, 2013

I can’t do it I won’t do it I won’t pretend on a smile Whilst our partying is built On bombing the middle east I can’t just relax for a while If the strobe lights are made in China And

An Ankh An Anshu

By on Tuesday 10th September, 2013

I didn’t know you like I wanted to know you I didn’t make the time to learn to care I don’t remember your laugh on a summers day I couldn’t be your soul brother – I never dared And yet

Poetic

By on Monday 9th September, 2013

Life must be poetic in order to survive For what is poetry in its essence? A string of pointless pompous words? An ear assault by a social brute? I think not The pouring out of tea with dignity before soldiers

Aele Kabira

By on Thursday 5th September, 2013

Aele Kabira means big family in Arabic as in we are one big family so chant with me Aele Kabira, Aele Kabira, Aele Kabira, Aele Kabira… Today I was afraid for the first time in my life To go through border

On Words

By on Thursday 9th May, 2013

Words Simultaneously Shape me Haunt me Mould me Taunt me Obey me Fail me Define me Dictate me Discover me Lose me Cover me Schmooz me Love me Labour me Cuddle me Colden me Hostage me Hold me Chain me

On Traumas (Soul Icari)

By on Thursday 28th March, 2013

There are times your traumas are best kept quiet Not gagged but calm at rest There are times they must scream out at the top of your voice, naked in the middle of the street There are times they need

Apparition

By on Thursday 14th March, 2013

She appears in my darkest hour Unquestioningly Though I am numb, cocooned from my pain Her warm gentle light Melts my fortress Pours in Unconditionally Envelops me Fills me Calms me Cleanses me Embraces every corner of my being The

Facing

By on Saturday 23rd February, 2013

I did something awesome and terrible today Somewhat selfish, somewhat selfless Hopefully somewhere in between I committed love suicide Strangled my ego Then floated through my shackles like a newborn ghost angel I pretty much forced him to kiss her

Tree is Me

By on Monday 18th February, 2013

You                                                                        are                                                                Tree Tree                            is                                                                                        Leaf Leaf                                                is                                                Light Light        is                                                                    Sun Sun                                      is                    Fire Fire                    is                      Spirit You    are    Tree Tree   is   Root Root  is  Earth Earth is Plant Plant  is  food Food   is   Flesh You    are    Tree Leaf      and      Spirit Root        and        Flesh You              are          Tree I                     am            You You                        are            Me!

We Made Love Once

By on Sunday 3rd February, 2013

We made love once And it was all wrong Nothing fit in the right places Or everything fit in the wrong places We made love twice And it was all right The stars aligned a sudden Supernova in that space

Again

By on Thursday 10th January, 2013

Co-written with Oli Oak (to be read to the rhythm of the tick-tock of the clock) Empty           Dull Cold           Clinical Bright           Light Sense           Less Not           Warm Not           Cold Chillingly           Comfortable Hands           Pain Can’t           Complain Hmmm… Hard           Square Smooth           Slick Walls     

Elegy to Another Average Oak

By on Thursday 10th January, 2013

Twas an Oak. It wasn’t grand, nor ancient. Tall, but not wide. Pretty, but roadside. Climbable, the occasional snap. Yet it housed us proud. Precariously perhaps. A queer party, two of flesh and blood Cradled by one of bark and

You Gave Therefore I Am

By on Wednesday 26th December, 2012

I am your flesh I am the aubergine you cooked I am the bedtime kisses and stories you blessed I am the traumas you suffered and their learnings I am the worldwise creature you sought me to be I am

Konnetikut kills

By on Friday 14th December, 2012

You can cover up the shooting of another land for oil You can call them all “terrorists” and marketise their toil But you can’t cover up the shooting by your own son Born and bred in the “land of freedom”

City Me

By on Wednesday 12th December, 2012

It’s like The City knows I’m leaving, He’s trying to squeeze the last vestiges Of energy from me before I go. For He is a he, With his tall spires and violent screens, He penetrates into all I do, All

Ode to Vulnerability

By on Monday 22nd October, 2012

Here’s to vulnerability, to the meek, the sad and the sodden Never should we have to hide what makes us animally human Let’s dream of the day where we can look a stranger in the eye And share not stunt

Dome

By on Friday 14th September, 2012

I found the dome of the rock. They tried to stop me with toy guns and imaginary lines, But I found it anyway. 100 metres from the ancient Al Akhsa mosque, In all its untouchable splendour and beauty – I

Grave Holes

By on Friday 14th September, 2012

Stale death in the cemetery air Freshly dug grave holes awaiting no one in particular No ceremony about this place Its a pitstop between worlds Old and new, fair and fucked Why sweep the floor and clear away the shit

Omar

By on Friday 14th September, 2012

In an alcove held fast by dreaming genie lamps and unwearable bracelets that have long lost their gleam lies an ancient relic. He’s the wise old man from a fairy tale you never thought could be real. He has a

Where it all Began

By on Friday 14th September, 2012

So this is the place it all began, so they say Ancient olive trees and a golden valley But the advertising billboard gives it away As a cheap pseudo-spiritual packaged holiday Everyone wants to control history Veil it in their

Philosophical Doubt

By on Friday 14th September, 2012

Water, life, trees, Human constructs teeming out of valleys, Market corridoors, people running on all fours Between veils of spices, jewels in arched doors, Every colour, smell and sensation known to man Is emerging out of crevices and on the

The Totalitarian Takeover

By on Friday 7th September, 2012

The Totalitarian Takeover will be far less conspicuous than previously advertised. No dystopian post-robotic-slavery future, There’ll still be oak trees on the boulevards no one dares to cross out of fear. No one-world-government superfactory draining humans as battery cells, There’ll

Perfect Plastic Soldier

By on Thursday 16th August, 2012

He’s the perfect plastic paramilitary, A model soldier chiseled by god, A kevlar halo rests on his crown, And his jawline is fierce like a dog, He comes in many colours, From white to yemeni black, And if fed the

Mater Noster (Mama Mia!)

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

Our bed That art covered in glitter Hallowed be thy flames Thy queendom come They will cum on Earth As they cum in Heaven Give us this night our fleeting passions And indulge us our needs and desires As we

The Cross

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

You crucified me Though you did not know it For I did not show it I cried behind closed doors So you would only see my smile I wanted to thank you For showing me paths through the woods and

Faun

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

He came in the night Slipped through the back door Like a curious wildcat He danced carefree Between cobwebbed corridors of dusty old tomes Containing blurry childhood memories and forgotten fairy tales In the dim lamplight he twirled and raved

Animalego

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

The ego is an ironic illusive creature On the surface he’s not hard to find He stares right back at ya, yelling “look at me, play with me, I demand some attention please” But the deeper you search the more

Secret Village

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

Surreal little shangrila in a distant suburban ghetto Sacred triangle between train tracks, tarmac and sewage flow Hear cars, planes, trains’ constant hum driving by All going somewhere not knowing why? But in this refugee reality on a bright sunny

Curse on Time

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

Curse you, time I used to believe I could ride you with youthful grace, Let those things destined cross paths and fall into place, Now you’re just an obstacle in a frantic rat race, Abandoning me weary without a trophies

Composed Upon Westminister Bridge, September 3rd 2011

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

A deliberate defilement of the original poem by Wordsworth they taught us in school. Found myself up a lamppost on Westminister bridge on acid staring out at the river on Saturday morning, September the 3rd 2011, when some guy in a

Spirit of Resistance

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

As the paving slab is cracked By the lone defiant weed So in our conviction of Resistance must we be On a forgotten window in the Soulless skyscraper ghettos we must Trace a word of silent freedom In the gathering

Psychic Sex

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

had psychic sex today in our drugged up state we lay eyes half open, shallow breathing, that is, at first, at least. it was a sensual feast of colours and gyration as the realm of imagination superimposed on this dimension

Repeat After Me

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

Go to work, don’t skip school Follow fashion, act cool Drive a car, watch TV Obey the law and spend money Raise your children just the same Give them all the same name And above all repeat after me (two,

Laugh in the Dark

By on Saturday 19th May, 2012

I tell another’s story You needn’t know their name I tell you she a woman For tis relevant in this game Twas the mid seventies Of punk and rock and roll She chose from home in holland To delve down

Hitch Hiker’s A-Z

By on Tuesday 20th March, 2012

(of Car Screen Faces) A is for “Aww isn’t that cute! No don’t stop honey, we can’t possibly be late for the show…” B is for the Bastard who waves you away like some pestering fly at the petrol station

Joyas

By on Thursday 24th November, 2011

relate sobre la gente Uruguaya en Piedras de Afilar 2010 joyas escasas en multicolor personajes que valen mas que su peso en oro el habla es barata pero la gente escucha igual y mirarse a los ojos es valioso como

Sui Se Dio

By on Thursday 24th November, 2011

tratamiento Yorugua de un suicidio en la familia Arrancó con <<que comemos>> y yo <<ni queda polenta>> y él <<entonces da para beber>> y yo <<y es lo que hay que hacer>> …así que cenamos alcohol y nos reímos pila,

Meditación Desaparecida

By on Thursday 24th November, 2011

meditaciones de un anglo uruguayo después de la marcha de los desaparecidos presente el alma al desaparecer que fue asesinado ya que quizo defender el pueblo donde nació y se crió y si yo no lo sufrí cual derecho tengo

Ventanita Clandestina

By on Thursday 24th November, 2011

para Eduardo Virth una torre alta y gris dentro de una ciudad de prisa dentro de un cubito en el quinto piso vive una viejita pasa el día lavando la ropa interior del amo chancho la camisa que nunca usa

Yarará

By on Thursday 24th November, 2011

Venía Con su hacha Hacia el bicho y para. y ¡clac! Con una raja sin demora sin dudar decapita la vibora la bestia sacudia pero indiscutiblemente muerta Por un instante le veías los ojos escapar y así de repente el

Media Lunas

By on Thursday 24th November, 2011

En la plaza independencia al pie de la estatua de Artigas Medio Lindo Medio Feo Lindo quién representa Feo quién lo hizo Lindo donde me quedo Feo lo que sucedió Lindo donde estoy Feo como me siento Lindo donde me

Requiem 4 London

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

Adapted from the original poem by Julio Etchart Hear a live performance recorded at Bar Vinyl on 20/11/2011 Spoken Westminster Magistrates, Court No. 3 Ms. L pleads not guilty to handling stolen goods She looks like a zombie three nights with

Anti-Art

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

Dear ad “Believe in better”? Your a bloody sports channel… A service people use or dont, and probably doesn’t better their life, you are  not socrates or che. Dear Mr. Daniels spending the rest of your life telling people about

Old Friend

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

Waging the never ending war is great Riding bandwagons and tempting your fate But if you don’t make time for an old friend There’ll be no one left in the end Pissing on facism, fighting is right Building the barricades

Health and Safety

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

Dont touch me mate Its not good for my health And certainly not for your safety And stop invading my personal space, I think i might suffocate Get down from that ladder I dont wanna have to pay compensation Avoid

CUT CUT CUT

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

You tell me when’s the last time we cut out of recession? How do you treat a failing heart by doing a dissection? The thoughts in our heads will dry up don’t you know, If you kill imagination by cutting

Country Lane

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

Sheep speckled like freckles on the skin of a hill as smoke wafts on by Birds chatter in chuckles as they swoop and summersault into the sky My bike rattles in its battle up a potholed lane as sunset draws

Smoke Trail

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

that’s the sound of my heart wheezing that’s the sound of my veins throbbing that’s the moisture of the wailing rain and that’s the patter of my thoughts sobbing self mutilation down to a fine art mastered by the masses

Window-for-One

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

Big tall grey apartment block Hangs over a city of nothing much, Little old lady lives in a box, cleans… all… day. She cleans fat men’s underwear, She irons the shirt he never wears, She cleans just about everywhere, Then

Snake

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

I saw him come with an axe! Hence to the beast, Stopped dead in his tracks… …and HACK! with one in-hesitant swing off with its head, the serpent wriggling yet indisputably dead. For a moment, you could see the boy’s

On to Something

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

never let ANYONE know that you want them never let ANYONE see that you care never presume you can serf page and throne them on a fleeting flick of the hair the sun and park benches of fairy tales are

The Tainting

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

Its becoming a distant memory Like a fading photograph with forced smiles I lose my genuinity And join the tainted masses Who’ve given up on love’s trials And who, too, lost a little faith along the way. I can’t find

Surrounded

By on Wednesday 23rd November, 2011

All…my…life I’ve been surrounded by broken people Is it because I’m a fixer? Or is it because I need to be fixed? Is it my imagination? Or is it an unhealthy mix All…I…know Is that when I swing my door

Hasta Las Moscas (A Victor Jara)

By on Tuesday 22nd November, 2011

Hasta las moscas mueren Es inevitabilide La ley de la vida sugiere Que ciertas cosas no cambian, Aunque tu no te deberías haber ido, Esa vez en la oscuridad, Con solo un mensaje escrito, Sin justicia, casi ni dignidad, Y

I Learnt Something

By on Tuesday 22nd November, 2011

I learnt something from a puppy today as it stared tame face-like-mouse saying why is there an invisible line at the threshold of your house which says that you may enter but I must pause at the door. who decided

The Room

By on Sunday 30th January, 2005

A bell rings, A door flings Open, a flurry of things, Not quite children, Imaginations broken, Flood the corridor wings. A fight! A fight! The critters’ right To crush the lingering hours, Of laughter, boredom, Angst and might, They may