My sister Susan is dead.
My parents too. They're both buried
With dad's lot, where mother's on top
For a change. The second to drop
One gin-filled evening, I was there
As she bounced off every stair.
And later, to ease the grief
We changed that room and found her teeth
Dusty behind a plant. Dad's death was bizarre,
We'd gone to the coast in the car
And made front page when his heart stalled.
He was sleeping when the old Morris rolled
Mysteriously. Nobody noticed the little motor
Creep over the cliff and into the water.
'TRAGIC ACCIDENT' the inquest declared
As dad was buried and his money shared
Between us; a rich source
That I blasted away on knackered horse,
Dog and drink, waste after waste;
Sensibility a severed artery, I had the taste.
And when the old ladies stash
Went down the same bog as the other cash
I realised I had little choice
But to stop now, or sell the house.
But what of Susan? Shaggy Sue
(Who'd only the air force left to do)
Was the migraine of my life,
So I opened her throat with a craft knife
While she was ironing. I took off her head
And every limb, she was quite dead.
I burnt the bits a chunk each day
And told every Tom and Harry she'd gone away
With another Dick she'd met in Spain
And I doubt we'd see her face again.
I thought I'd won, but the brain blisters
With parental wreckage, and my sister's
Carcass, bagged and bloody,
Gurgling and gasping away inside me.
My every breath a slash of pain
As death rewinds and plays again.
To cleanse myself I've embraced religion,
And in the bath of my salvation
Where scented froth obscures the sign,
Cheap thin steel turns water to wine.
Poetry - Perfect Flower, Love and I Missed You 3 Poems By David Morris
When you're with someone
A person you care for deeply
You can't imagine anything else
You have the undeniable feeling.
I can't stop thinking about her
Enjoying the time we spend together
This whole thing is an experience
Poetry - A Day To Remember By Del Abe Jones.
Anniversary is not a proper word
To mark the meaning of that day
And now, five years from that date
Is not nearly far enough away.
Too many families and loved ones
Still feel that pain down in their soul
From the Towers to the Pentagon
Poetry - High Summer In A Field By The A1079 By Beth McGann.
The sungod has pulled the day's tinderbox-taut
Until they slow down
Like great white mirage-stones
waiting to be snapped like a brittle bleached bone,
So each stolen move of air
Poetry - The Deciding Test By Patrick Henry
It's not cricket, old boy; never like this among The Members at Lords.
We played the game, not sledging and slanging these bad words.
An Aussi Umpire gruff as a bear: a stern Paki, each call each unfair.
War is diplomacy by another means.
Poetry - Terminal Crisis By Patrick Henry
Icarus on wax wings crashed failing to reach the sun.
Quest for the sun in sure, high-speed flying, carries on
For those from grey islands who long for Tenerife:
Long since Icarus, the journey easy, safe and brief,
Planes go faster, but airport queues grow long and slow.
Soon round the world in one
Poetry -One She Was In Care By Michelle Dee
So, she took her first gulp of air
At the age of one she was in care
Father in prison, mum nowhere
"She's got something wrong with her heart"
they told her.
"That's why she doesn't love you,
Poetry - Be all you want to be By Michelle Dee
Being all you want to be
For you meant the world to me
Would be good to set you free
Being all you want to be
Maybe you could not believe
See you smiling in my sleep
Poetry - Novel Moves to Montmartre By Patrick Henry
Place Cliché high on city squalor reeks of Henry Miller or Henri Toulouse- Lautrec,
And one character here come-lately. I invent myself in a cheap attic
Down Rue Barbes, Street of Beards, at times assuming the guise
Poetry - Let's Blow Up America By Patrick Henry
Stan Freeberg writes the scenario, Tom Lehrer does the songs,
"Let's Blow Up America", best musical since Springtime for Hitler won the gongs,
When Jews of Manhattan broke a leg to get hot tickets to catch
Poetry - The Fallen By David Morris
The church bell tolls
It's heard 61 times
In honour of those who have fallen
In honour of those who gave their lives.
Those who battled for us
They won us our freedoms
Remember those who did that
Poetry - Jimmy By Shaun Heesom
Jimmy was a Corporal, he went to fight in France
Ellis only had one leg, so couldn't really dance
Aunt Ada came with Ellis, her house so dark 'n' grim
"Come into the parlour", and me Dad shoved me in
Laura worked in a butter factory, on the banks of the Hull
Jimmy shaved in an enamel bowl, Laura kept it full
Inside an air raid shelter,
Poetry - I Confess By Mike Watts
Coming home one Friday night
Scranning burgers and half pissed
Me and a mate stopped to talk to three prossies
All smoking in the doorway of a charity shop.
"What would I get for a quid?"
Me mate said belching and flicking onion
Poetry - Trouble At Number Ten (a.ka. my next home) By Daphne Liver
I find him in the kitchen
angrily carving potatoes into polygons,
because he feels at fifty three
that he's washed up already.
Beads of sweat now slide
from where creases of smiles once shone.
He is singed by age like a tree -
Poetry - Public Display of Sandwich By The Mouths of Madness
Chilling choking on bits of bamboo
Cold frustrated stomachs fucked too
Vast islands of clover in the
Grass always grew.
But in the winter
The thistles so small
Poetry - The Final Scapegoat By Patrick Henry
From dope-peddling terrorist dens where the late Taliban
Blew up everything they hated out of all proportion,
Another lark to test lads in the closed season can be
The Afghan's ancient sport of Buzzkashi.
Misheard as 'Bush-catchy' it is unpopular in Washington,
Where George dreads another presidential assassination.
But this lines up teams of
Poetry - Shove It By Shaun Heesom
If I dreamed a new dream and
I've dreamed a few then let the new dream
Be that old dream I once dreamed of you!
If I speak unspoken, words I've never spoke before let
Those words be spoken in a way I've
Often Spoke before!
Poetry - The Land of The Free By Del Abe Jones.
On Independence Day this year
We'll wave our Flag, salute and cheer
We'll thank all those who've gone before
And those today, we send to War.
We'll think about what Freedom's cost
Those who fought and those we lost
Poetry - She Can See The World From Petrin Hill By Tom Gant
Yonder Summa! Green faerie queen
my thoughts are your own, in thinking.
Raise a finger to edge a table
whilst I raise a glass, dear as crystal.
Sugar revolution; coat yourself in
crowds of bubbles and linger long
and loud as you desire. Smoke:
Poetry - Feast of Violence (At Scarborough in The Fall) By Patrick Henry
Time of mist and pumpkin-lamps Keats might call fall of the year.
Ten days and two centuries back, twenty-first October,
Five thousand sailors, one called Nelson, died at Trafalgar.
Feasts of violence make dates upon the calendar.
Stick a pointed hat on an excited child.
Black-paint-daub their face,
Poetry - An Un-Comic Poem By Shep
I thought about writing a comic poem
But I couldn't find anything funny
I put pen to paper several times
But still couldn't earn my money
I though about people falling down
And kept repeating the word 'wiggle'
Poetry - Test of Character By Patrick Henry
From Afghanistan comes word of fair play and decency
From the visiting President of the MCC,
That the Jihad desperadoes and Kamikaze ghouls
Have given way to cricket-mad flannelled-fools.
For the influx of this dose of common-sense.
Our wise Wisden man says
Poetry - The Looking-Glass War By Patrick Henry
Fort Polk could steal headlines from Baghdad and Guantanamo.
A camp down in Dixie will become heroic as The Alamo.
It rehearses scenarios in line for Middle-Eastern war
GIs are tested out by all-comers down there.
Amputee veterans of Pearl Harbour, Korea and Vietnam
Replay their parts of war
Poetry - Thirst By Mike Watts
Sprawled like a victim
I shrink on the heat of the bed.
Rattle beneath my window.
Glass shrieks across concrete
As young voices drip,
Go forth and multiply
Poetry - A Yorkshire Princess By Mike Watts
This proud bird parades no vanity
She paddles her feet in the Humber
Muddies her dress to show she's working,
As hard as they'll let her.
Breathing in, breathing out,
A great warehouse, a production line
For the conquerors' of Kings, of
Poetry - The Underdogs Of War-Games By Patrick Henry
8 groups in The World Cup, imagine the worst in each to win
Through to The Quarters, The Semis, or The Final Game.
From defence to attack they might spring up surprising.
What have these minnow nations got going for them?
Talk of red cards, Paraguay once lost five million men
In their big 3-Nations War, facing