Living in Manchester, David writes short stories, poetry and flash fiction. He performs at a number of open mics across the city. When David isn’t writing he is, well, writing, in his job as a grants fundraiser for a children’s charity. See more of David’s stories and poems at wattpad.com/davidjbond. David has also strayed into the world of music at soundcloud.com/davidjbond92For no particular reason, David also has an Instagram account dedicated to canal boats: @canalboatgram
Now, finally, I can survey the skies Through this mighty telescope. I shall observe all space and time I shall observe from afar All that I survey, gone Long since gone. Their light has not found me Yet I have found them What is this I see? From the corner of my eye A rock, basking in starlight My attention is drawn I inspect more closely now Not a mere rock; a miracle! Water-based, pink meat, life forms They use the air to breathe! If I draw closer, what will I see? Where will time take them? Will they advance to Heaven? Will they descend to Hell? Edging closer, I see trouble. . . Complex codes and symbols Their world is made of words With words, comes misunderstanding Edging closer. . . They demarcate the land From here, the land is one Down there, the land is fractured Edging closer. . . They build up walls Walls to protect themselves? Protect themselves from what? Edging closer. . . Stocks of metal coins With them, one rejoices Without them, one suffers Edging closer. . . They attack one another Sent by their masters Who gain from their loss Edging closer. . . Their land exploited In the name of ‘progress’? They destroy what sustains them Edging closer. . . These pink meat life forms They have gone too far The air is poisoned Edging closer, I see nothing. No life forms No life forms at all A rock, adrift in space.
Before the metal rain Countless tulips kiss the horizon They silently await their fate Countless bodies will take their place Before the long dark night Gentle hills, undulating without worry Streams with no names, merely trickles A simple and pleasant busyness Before the noise and confusion Church bells softly peel Cows jostle, cowbells jingle Shepherds call expectantly The passage of time is slow But outside forces now intervene Tension accelerates Nothing will ever be the same The birds of 1914 sing loudly The last dawn chorus? Tomorrow, noise never heard before Tomorrow shall deafen them. . . . . . Deafened, dead. The final curtain call Hell has been performed Earth, the stage 1913, a bittersweet memory Poppies in place of tulips now Growing rich on the blood and bones Of strangers to this land