Submissions by Abracadabra
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I'm just a soul, hooked on magic & poetry sandwiches. My words are fools, dancing as they flirt with the life you give them... & then there's the naughty stuff that wakes me in the middle of the night... one day all that cheese'll kill me.
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Nov 2009 8:51am
24th Nov 2009 8:51am
Papa Rats See
Those bastard photographers
hounding me again
just for once I'd like a private moment
without the world
screaming watch this space.
I could spit in their lenses.
That picture made more than I do
in a night on stage
and on a scale of one to ten
where ten is perfect
and one is crap
I rate it a shitty two.
But never mind
that it wasn't my best side
if only they would concentrate
on my work
there'd be no talk
of a roller coaster career.
hounding me again
just for once I'd like a private moment
without the world
screaming watch this space.
I could spit in their lenses.
That picture made more than I do
in a night on stage
and on a scale of one to ten
where ten is perfect
and one is crap
I rate it a shitty two.
But never mind
that it wasn't my best side
if only they would concentrate
on my work
there'd be no talk
of a roller coaster career.
856 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
24th Nov 2009 7:47am
24th Nov 2009 7:47am
An Exchange with John
All those years ago
on the steps of Saville Row
for once the great man's tongue
was tied
by all those legal guys
but he could still crack jokes
at their expense
They could go clean Apple's toilets
he said
I had wanted to ask
about Jesus Christ
but there was no more time
and when the white Mercedes
made it through the crowds
none of us could dream
the end that waited years away
outside a New York block ...
on the steps of Saville Row
for once the great man's tongue
was tied
by all those legal guys
but he could still crack jokes
at their expense
They could go clean Apple's toilets
he said
I had wanted to ask
about Jesus Christ
but there was no more time
and when the white Mercedes
made it through the crowds
none of us could dream
the end that waited years away
outside a New York block ...
855 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2009 9:22pm
23rd Nov 2009 9:22pm
Dark Habits
Straight and still
in the checkout queue
...over there
Look, a nun!
Can't remember
the last time I saw one
so maybe they're
in decline
(now that the breeding season for religion is over).
To me she seemed as alien as the new breed
of hairless house cat
that's allergy free
and never puts a pussy foot outside.
She's standing calm supreme
while the rest of us
twitch and shuffle impatiently
she's clutching three large bars of
dark chocolate
tightly to her breast
covering her...
in the checkout queue
...over there
Look, a nun!
Can't remember
the last time I saw one
so maybe they're
in decline
(now that the breeding season for religion is over).
To me she seemed as alien as the new breed
of hairless house cat
that's allergy free
and never puts a pussy foot outside.
She's standing calm supreme
while the rest of us
twitch and shuffle impatiently
she's clutching three large bars of
dark chocolate
tightly to her breast
covering her...
760 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2009 8:18pm
23rd Nov 2009 8:18pm
Chatting with the Dead
Cemetery patrolmen hide unseen
their rusting John Deere
camouflaged by yew and ivy
waiting to remind the forgetful
that watering cans go by the tap
ordered and numbered
like the dead
Friends laugh
but I could never live nearby
too many feelings here
to pounce and trap
then overpower my senses.
As long as I can see the gate
half open like that
I'll be OK,
I'm sure.
Charles Happenfield Wilson
born Calcutta 1871, died aged 23,
calls me from a row
where stones all lean their different ways. ...
their rusting John Deere
camouflaged by yew and ivy
waiting to remind the forgetful
that watering cans go by the tap
ordered and numbered
like the dead
Friends laugh
but I could never live nearby
too many feelings here
to pounce and trap
then overpower my senses.
As long as I can see the gate
half open like that
I'll be OK,
I'm sure.
Charles Happenfield Wilson
born Calcutta 1871, died aged 23,
calls me from a row
where stones all lean their different ways. ...
871 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2009 9:58am
23rd Nov 2009 9:58am
Passing Through
You crawled
from under the freezer
a furious hellbent army
of one
shiny black with rage
as you were torn from your darkness.
Nuke the planet now!
you screamed.
Bring it on
we'll see
who wins
and how much longer
have We been here anyway.
This
is our place
don't ever think it's yours -
you are just
passing through.
from under the freezer
a furious hellbent army
of one
shiny black with rage
as you were torn from your darkness.
Nuke the planet now!
you screamed.
Bring it on
we'll see
who wins
and how much longer
have We been here anyway.
This
is our place
don't ever think it's yours -
you are just
passing through.
777 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
23rd Nov 2009 9:26am
23rd Nov 2009 9:26am
Stolen Music
The best thing about writing poetry
is that it can hit you
anytime
any place
right between the eyes
(or from behind them).
The worst thing is that you
can't always switch off
when you want
and to relinquish
control of self
needs courageousness
but it's a fair trade
to get to see
reality
in that different way
And sometimes
it feels like
stolen music
bleeding from someone else's ears.
Doncha ever wonder
'bout that?
is that it can hit you
anytime
any place
right between the eyes
(or from behind them).
The worst thing is that you
can't always switch off
when you want
and to relinquish
control of self
needs courageousness
but it's a fair trade
to get to see
reality
in that different way
And sometimes
it feels like
stolen music
bleeding from someone else's ears.
Doncha ever wonder
'bout that?
914 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2009 8:59pm
22nd Nov 2009 8:59pm
Illiterate
Jay will never read this
I'm sure of that now
not because all my attempts
to help unravel the mysteries of the alphabet for him
have been in vain
but because
and this may shock you
he has lost his desire to learn to read
and write.
Yet he still celebrated his 40th birthday
in his own special way and in some style
without all the bother
of having to read all those irritating cards
perched on the mantelpiece.
When I tried to teach him
my efforts were always somehow
interrupted by unexpected lady...
I'm sure of that now
not because all my attempts
to help unravel the mysteries of the alphabet for him
have been in vain
but because
and this may shock you
he has lost his desire to learn to read
and write.
Yet he still celebrated his 40th birthday
in his own special way and in some style
without all the bother
of having to read all those irritating cards
perched on the mantelpiece.
When I tried to teach him
my efforts were always somehow
interrupted by unexpected lady...
994 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2009 6:46pm
22nd Nov 2009 6:46pm
Just for Glue
I carry this gum
that's stuck to my shoe
I'll keep it forever
to remind me of you
And though I don't know
the mouth it came from
the brand that you use
or its flavor
You sure had an impact
it's been there so long
hard proof
of your chewing behavior
Now I may be stuck
on the sidewalk
with one shoe
that wont let me go
but I'll never despair
or get crazy
while I can still wiggle
a toe
that's stuck to my shoe
I'll keep it forever
to remind me of you
And though I don't know
the mouth it came from
the brand that you use
or its flavor
You sure had an impact
it's been there so long
hard proof
of your chewing behavior
Now I may be stuck
on the sidewalk
with one shoe
that wont let me go
but I'll never despair
or get crazy
while I can still wiggle
a toe
985 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2009 12:52pm
22nd Nov 2009 12:52pm
Shame in Times Square
The child beggar's eyes
still stare at me
beyond the plate of ham and eggs
and Sunday's papers
I had no more coin
only one last small banana
not even ripe
which she slipped expertly
beneath her too big billowy dress
lest it vanish to another mouth
amongst that throng
of raggedness
Dirty tear stains etched for life
faces frantically seeking a lost childhood
leave zero appetite
for the neat and tidy smugness
of shallow western ways ...
still stare at me
beyond the plate of ham and eggs
and Sunday's papers
I had no more coin
only one last small banana
not even ripe
which she slipped expertly
beneath her too big billowy dress
lest it vanish to another mouth
amongst that throng
of raggedness
Dirty tear stains etched for life
faces frantically seeking a lost childhood
leave zero appetite
for the neat and tidy smugness
of shallow western ways ...
942 reads
5 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
22nd Nov 2009 10:18am
22nd Nov 2009 10:18am
Agonies Wasted
I told me
you are nothing in my world
and that now
not even one atom of yours
remains to destroy
For in my sleep
I have torn your soul
from its body
destroying you
with a thousand cuts
until my fingers bled
laughing wildly
as I dispatched you into flame
crushing each spark
as it flew
So how can it be
the next time
you come through that door
I know the mask
must slip again
your smile undoing...
you are nothing in my world
and that now
not even one atom of yours
remains to destroy
For in my sleep
I have torn your soul
from its body
destroying you
with a thousand cuts
until my fingers bled
laughing wildly
as I dispatched you into flame
crushing each spark
as it flew
So how can it be
the next time
you come through that door
I know the mask
must slip again
your smile undoing...
865 reads
3 Comments
EROTIC POEM
Published
21st Nov 2009 4:27pm
21st Nov 2009 4:27pm
Pussy for the Weekend
Put out that cat
he's dying for a fuck again
and wont be coming home
(at least three days this time)
Look at him go
popcorn outta the burning pan
freedom bursting over garden fences
free regular meals
in three homes
plus there's always a chance to sneak in
on some new cutie
with no getting busted for bigamy
checkouts or chip and pin.
Makes me so restless
watching him
feels like
the last drops of ketchup
got stuck
at the bottom of this bottle
and you know
turning the world ...
he's dying for a fuck again
and wont be coming home
(at least three days this time)
Look at him go
popcorn outta the burning pan
freedom bursting over garden fences
free regular meals
in three homes
plus there's always a chance to sneak in
on some new cutie
with no getting busted for bigamy
checkouts or chip and pin.
Makes me so restless
watching him
feels like
the last drops of ketchup
got stuck
at the bottom of this bottle
and you know
turning the world ...
1007 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Nov 2009 9:40am
21st Nov 2009 9:40am
Up to the Sky & Back Again
Up to the sky and back again
never thought we could fly so high
up to the sky and back again
never dreamed you'd be the reason why.
Where did all your miracles come from
where did all my heartaches go
nothing matters when your love light's shining
hearts like stars in the afterglow.
I was lost like a lonely outlaw
'most forgot what I was living for
you came and tamed all those wild horses
and now I know I just got to have more.
Up to the sky and back again
never thought we could fly so high
up to the sky...
never thought we could fly so high
up to the sky and back again
never dreamed you'd be the reason why.
Where did all your miracles come from
where did all my heartaches go
nothing matters when your love light's shining
hearts like stars in the afterglow.
I was lost like a lonely outlaw
'most forgot what I was living for
you came and tamed all those wild horses
and now I know I just got to have more.
Up to the sky and back again
never thought we could fly so high
up to the sky...
988 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Abracadabra
