Category Poems
Stirred up chaos in my chest
Cared for me like no one before
Became addicted to you
Needed more and more
You were the first
To love me
To make me feel high
To see me as more than “hot”
To touch me in that spot
As I sit in a boat afloat, I admit, through the sea of life
I saw myself without spiritual wealth,
Shipwrecked, turned and tossed, I yearned
from truth-aloof in my youth, I was lost,
On a voyage under nights-roof darkest, aloof-alone,
only stars atone with a glowing harkness,
Would, by knowing which one I should follow,
be an escape from the agape of sea and dark to swallow?
Be showing a way as I drift astray?
May the chosen star in my nightmare dream – gleam a light – beam as I pray for day,
Beaming aglow, it would brighten my dream’s darkly plight of a woeful night,
was I to think you have to be
My life’s blood
My protector
My air
My life’s lovebeaten from your hallowed translucent shield
The pain from this will fade
Yet the bruises will remain forever and a day
I was young and fascinated with the whistle.
The deafening sound that came from your mouth.
They weren’t birds, but they can whistle as the wind!
Whistling, whistling
I was fascinated, looking at my brothers whistling.
How can I whistle? My question came.
My brother teaching me, while my father screaming at me.
You are a girl! Girls don’t whistle!
Then my father whistles.
It is unfair or is it just me?
A girl who couldn’t whistle.
It’s the day for a wild whistle competition.
let Ciaos choke
under miles of steel.
The train won’t let me
memorize its trails
nor commit to memory
the secret pleasure
of sobbing wheels
when they hit the rails.
Then flogged em off behind the pub so I could buy some
bloody grub to feed the kids and wife.
They adn’t ate for firty arrs wiv rumbling guts ‘n’ aches.
Saw the tears roll darn the cheek
fer yet another bleeding week
wivart some bread or cakes.
Worked me bum off day ‘n’ night to make a bob or two.
Ad a shilling left for rent
wiv all the rest already spent…
didn’t know what else ter bleeding do.
Couldn’t bear ter see ‘em starve or ‘ear the baby weep.
So like a little ‘ungry mouse
I snuck inter ‘is Lordship’s ouse
while ee was fast asleep.
Some bastard at the Bull ’n’ Bush seed me do the deal.
Ee recognised the silverware;
ad the allmark to compare….
and so me kids never got that meal.
They cuffed me ‘ands behind me back and threw me in a cell.
They put me in the Bailey dock;
and kept me under key and lock,
then sent me darn ter hell.
They said I’d ang at Tyburn, but then they changed their mind.
Instead they give me seven years
of labour ard wiv sweat and tears…
cos they was really kind.
Wivvin a week I’m in an ulk ‘n’ off ter Noo Sarth Wales.
They beats yer ard ‘n’ whips yer bad,
sends yer nearly effing mad
inside them floatin’ gaols.
I gets there March of 1812 and lives me life in chains.
It urts to work ‘n’ urts to walk
and even urts to bloody talk,
so few of us complains.
bears memories buried
in the corolla of a rose,
in the odours of my childhood,
barely woken from a dream,
our tryst abandoned.
Both knowing neither will compromise
Like traders glamorising a business deal
Ignoring anything that’s real
You know there’s a connection
Too busy, insecure of the reflection
The lads would think you’re under whip
Need to inform them if I stay the night
Being honest I can’t say much
Don’t want to be labelled slut
swims against the tides of fate,
clashes with uptight currents,
is buoyed by gentle waves
like a bolt into a dream made out of nothingness,
crowns of hope
along the touch of nature.No golden shoes enfold the feet.
They are bare and wounded.
your shoes are large and I put them
on, trying to ache through the miles
you had walked from this wild grass
I no longer mow. Pronged fibers curl
above my steps, gathering the way
smoke shoulders its particles up the
exhaust hood. But idle feet can’t tar
