Bag For Life
And so I blew it
And I some how I knew it, that
I would throw out the screwed up ends
The tighly coiled gut load of sentences
That discharged themselves randomly
In the supermarket
They gave me a 'bag for life! '
Somewhere on the journey I left it behind
At the point of exchange
Where there were no bins
I filled it with sentiment and waste
And those unheard wishes
Best left silent
Somewhere between here and waterloo
If only they knew
How easy it is to dropp off
The edge of all reasonable sense
Spill coffee on those carefuly pressed creases
And forget your lines
Under the interrogators light
A dark mastermind chair of pitting wits,
Leaving all wits witless!
45 minutes and times up!
yvette smith june 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
In Translation
Arriving with no intepretator
Leaving with signals and signs
On the elevator
In the pressed drudged crowds
Filled by the strangeness of infatuation
Your first arrival
Under the flash of a neon ray
Leaving with the wrong signs
In your back pocket
The price tags and the labels
As if heaven was an eternal shopping mall
And hell was a supermarket checkout queue
Missing the signs and the cues
Leaving in an unfamiliar way
Unexpected
The wisest words are always spoken by children
Before reading and learning
In translation!
yvette m smith march 09
aka yvette m smith
circa march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Casserole
It was a casserole of an affair
Too many vegetables to name in the file for divorce
I knew the rift would fade and die
And that all loves complete their course
It was an out of court settlement
To save the tomato its blushes
And avoid exposing the greeness of the cucumber
The potato came out on top
[the the underdog must have it's day! '
P.S The cauliflower left quietly with a slab of cheese
It still harboured a secret ambition to make it
on the dining room circuit as a 'VERY TASTY DISH'
P.S It knew without the cheese it was nothing!
yvette smith london march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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I Am Your Convenience
Have you lost your wits and gone mad! ?
Those are 'my' friends you just insulted.
'I will admit to the going mad business.
However...
That losing of the wits bit,
I need them to hang on to for future excursions.
Besides...
If it was not for my wits,
I would not have been able to convince you...
I have gone mad.
Now would I? '
You are doing this on purpose,
Aren't you.
'Doing what on purpose? '
Trying to drive me crazy!
You want everyone to believe,
I am the one that is really the nut case.
'Hmmm...
Are you?
And you are the one behind the wheel too.
What else do you want me to admit?
I'll do it.
I just want to get home safe.
After you dropp me off,
You can go anywhere you want.
And...
Keep your eyes on the road.
Unless you 'do' want me to drive.'
I should have left you.
'And what would that have proven?
I am more popular with your friends than you are?
And you would not have had an excuse to leave.
Other than the one of you having a headache.
And it was time for us to go.'
You are an embarrassment.
'No!
I am your convenience.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Rendezvous
The lines of her dress were classic
She was curvy and tall and thin
She’d blood red shiny fingernails
Estee Lauder was under her chin
It was dark in the room when she entered
Except for a candle and chair
And a man with a handful of flowers
Expectantly waiting there
He wanted to be romantic
He wanted to be interesting
But she knew what he really was there for
In spite of the left handed ring
Yet she let down her hair with a flourish
Even though he had lied like a bum
She had lied to herself and she knew it
Cross the hundreds of miles she had come
They both knew there’d be spiritual fallout
They both knew someone surely would tell
They both knew there was no common sense in it
They both knew they would both burn in hell
But without thought or fear they went through with it
And when it was finally done
They were left with the shame and disgrace of it
Saying nothing before they ran home
So be mindful and always remember
If you find you've succumbed to their lot
There is never a happy conclusion
And your treachery's all that you've got
Written by Sara Fielder © 2012
poem by Sara Fielder
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Blame The Weather
When your loves flown out the window,
And the pain comes through the door.
Once again youve missed the boat,
And youre stranded on the shore.
And you find out that what you had,
Was never yours at all,
Friends and lovers that you knew so well,
Will never take your calls.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
If you play the game
Youve got to be prepared to take a knock,
You get put down so many times,
But you keep on getting up.
So put your tears away,
And dont forget to worry is a crime,
Nothing bears thinking about too much,
Youll be old before your time.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
The pool of tears you left to drown in,
The helping hands that never came,
The years you lost out to another,
All up in flames
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blame The Weather
When your loves flown out the window,
And the pain comes through the door.
Once again youve missed the boat,
And youre stranded on the shore.
And you find out that what you had,
Was never yours at all,
Friends and lovers that you knew so well,
Will never take your calls.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
If you play the game
Youve got to be prepared to take a knock,
You get put down so many times,
But you keep on getting up.
So put your tears away,
And dont forget to worry is a crime,
Nothing bears thinking about too much,
Youll be old before your time.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
The pool of tears you left to drown in,
The helping hands that never came,
The years you lost out to another,
All up in flames
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorry
Sorry I could not be there
Open my face
Surround you with lies
Comfort hides in disguise
And these are the masks
We carefully wear
Worn down
We bear them
For every occasion
Births
Marriages
And death
They keep us safe
A hearts distance
Out of arms reach
Love
I am sorry that I never told you these things,
About, what it is to live just beneath the surface
A breath away
Skin deep,
And yet
There is something left unloved
Like love.
And sorry, sorry, sorry,
So much left
Unturned unseen
These invisible things
My love, my love.
Yvette M Smith poet of uk
june 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Question
The question leaves a road turning
Trees full of green thoughts burning
Gold and brown
They fall in on themselves
At first they make a beautiful collage
A kaliedoscope
Tracings of colours
Leaving unfinished
The questions
Of life and love
And why
Do we?
who will we become/ in becoming?
wherefore from the root?
Seeded randomly?
When where?
Will we go?
do we die?
when we die?
what dreams?
what dreams?
He dreams in waking
wide eyes
spinning his own realities from within
Will the light burn out?
Or burn on?
And the music of the question
Goes on
Unfinished
Unanswered
Forever pursuing
Forever unpursued
In finito
NO ENDING
Yvette m smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The mute singer
She cut out her tongue
So she could sing
Those unheard songs
sung
She cut out her tongue
So silently
She could unspeak herself
Free, from prison words
She cut out her tongue
So that her soul could catch the light
And let it run
Through her body transparent
Prism shining out
She cut out her tongue
To free her self
From her self
Completion
Knitted under the skin of silence
Flying unseen
Into unexplored horizons
Without
Mother
Country
Point of
Trace
She cut out her tongue
To see the eyes
Behind the face
yvette m smith sept 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Friends
I caught a glimpse of you and me today
Whilst walking through a park
Where two friends walked and talked
Under trees filled with laughter
When carefree we shared bad jokes
And pretended to be other people on the phone
I miss the prayers the love
The friend that never left me on my own
Who shared dreams and poetry
Who made minutes stretch into an hour and more
Who was always knocking on my door
Who listened to my tired relentless rhyme
Who forgave me for never being on time
And without looking consumed my terribly bad cooking
The holidays the photographs the arguments and fun,
It's twenty years and more,
Oh how I miss that knock upon my door!
yvette smith
poem by Yvette Smith
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A Boy Named Sue
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.
Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks,
it seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
and some guy would laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell you, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.
Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean.
My fist got hard and my wits got keen.
Roamed from town to town to hide my shame,
but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the honky tonks and bars and kill
that man that gave me that awful name.
But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had
just hit town and my throat was dry.
I'd thought i'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon in a street of mud
and at a table dealing stud sat the dirty,
mangy dog that named me Sue.
Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
from a worn-out picture that my mother had
and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old
and I looked at him and my blood ran cold,
and I said, 'My name is Sue. How do you do?
Now you're gonna die.' Yeah, that's what I told him.
Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down
but to my surprise he came up with a knife
and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair
right across his teeth. And we crashed through
the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging
in the mud and the blood and the beer.
I tell you I've fought tougher men but I really can't remember when.
He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laughin' and then I heard him cussin',
he went for his gun and I pulled mine first.
He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile.
And he said, 'Son, this world is rough and if
a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
and I knew I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So I gave you that name and I said 'Goodbye'.
I knew you'd have to get tough or die. And it's
that name that helped to make you strong.'
Yeah, he said, 'Now you have just fought one
helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you've
got the right to kill me now and I wouldn't blame you
if you do. But you ought to thank me
before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit
in your eye because I'm the guy that named you Sue.'
Yeah, what could I do? What could I do?
I got all choked up and I threw down my gun,
called him pa and he called me a son,
and I came away with a different point of view
and I think about him now and then.
Every time I tried, every time I win and if I
ever have a son I think I am gonna name him
Bill or George - anything but Sue.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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February
February came and went, like a love song never meant,
To be heard until summer.
Then march marched in, suprisingly late
The buds still swollen on the trees
The river stretching out beneath the evening
And april brought memories of you leaving
The sunlight left it's golden locks upon the floor
And may was full of sleeping in beyond the time of waking
Of autumn walks under overcast skies
And something out of step and out of season
The beating of a silent heart
The rain washed streets
Left drops on leaves
And smells of smoky bars
And early scents of rising earth
And all our hopes shone in a dazzling constellation
The universe in symphony
In wonder at love's death
In triumph at its celebration
yvette smith may 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Elephant
Hating you is easy
Because I have loved you with equal measure
Known the art of dissapointment when left behind to ponder on a rainy
afternoon
The elephant that's sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room
Today it's me and him you left us long ago
To work out what is left of the happy ever after, not quite so
So I am courteous and polite and give the elephant a drink
From a large red plastic bucket that I filled up at the sink
He tells me in a whisper you've been seeing someone else
And it has been a year or more I been left upon the shelf
Unloved but not lonely I know love's too good to be true
But now i'm talking not ignoring,
The elephant in the room.
poem by Yvette Smith
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The Sorrow Of Words
The sorrow of words that rarely tell themselves
They sail like brightly coloured balloons
Lost in their own universe
They spin off the edge of a tongue
kissing air and emptiness
Seldom filling loneliness
Leaving their sound like a symphony
A faint noise hanging in the air
Somewhere in the back of my mind
The radio is playing
A song I used to know
yvette smith oct 08
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Class Of 55
Chips moman/bobby emmons
Sittin around minding my business when in walked an old friend
Such a sight for sore eyes I hadnt seen him since I dont know when
We talked about the crazy things we used to do
And talk loud around about old lovers talk out around to you
And Id like to hold a reunion for the clas of 55
Id like to see my old friends and how many have survived
Get a rock and roll band and do some dancin
Talk about the good times and all of the chances we blew
What would you do if you knew you never left my heart
What would you do if you knew that youre still tearing me apart
How would you feel if you knew my love for you is still alive
Livin in my heart since the class of 55
Well get a rock and roll band and do some dancin
Talk about the good times and all of the chances we blew
What would you do if you knew you never left my heart
What would you do if you knew that youre still tearing me apart
How would you feel if you knew my love for you is still alive
Livin in my heart since the class of 55
Lets get a rock and roll band and do us some dancin
Talk about the good times and all of the chances we blew
And my losing you
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Few Minutes in the Dark
A few minutes in the dark.
What kind of dark?
No light shining?
Depression?
A reality check?
A few minutes in the dark can change you.
Change you how?
Change your outlook of life?
Change your personality?
Cause you to sin?
A few minutes in the dark is dangerous.
How is it dangerous?
Swallow you up in fear.
Never feel happiness.
No more friends.
No more family.
No more love.
No more life.
No more light.
A few minutes in the dark is scary.
You see the evil in the world with no light.
You lose your light for a few minutes and soul dies.
You lose a person, a loved one, every single second.
You lose sight of them and they're gone forever.
A few minutes in the dark and you cant see anything.
No more things that coused you joy or filled with love.
A few minutes in the dark.
It takes only 30 seconds for a child to be kidnapped.
Then after that, they fall to the darkness.
Soul burned out, and love gone.
Another life fallen to the darkness.
A few minutes in the dark.
When you left the light, there is no turning back.
A few minutes in the dark, and you lose sight.
Lose sight of the light.
See what happens in the dark?
A few minutes in the dark.
Causes death.
A breakup between lovers and one points a gun to their head.
A few minutes in the dark and you die.
The light will be sealed from you along memories.
Memories of light and love.
The two things the dark can never have.
Light and love.
A few minutes in the dark.
And you cant remember your friends.
Did you even have friends?
A few minutes in the dark can change your way of thinking.
Reminding you of death at every corner.
You wander forever not ever finding the light.
A few minutes in the dark will change you forever.
Happiness always has its sadness.
Sadness always has its happiness.
Where there is life, there is death waiting around the corner.
Where there is death, there is life some where waiting.
Death is darkness.
You cant find your light if you cant handle a few minutes in the dark.
And maybe people are still stuck in the dark and we dont notice.
Reach your hand out and show them the light.
Everyone around us may look happy but they dont see the light.
A few minutes in the dark is a very sad place to be in.
Your blinded and confused.
you dont feel love and people all around us will always be in the dark,
waiting for a friend to pull them out.
There will be better days
poem by Natalie Vail
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A painting a hieroglyphic an epitaph
I painted the trees as birds in flight
Wings pressed against the hour glass
The bird clock stirring
Under the television light
And the ' green bush' was a green bush
And the bush was a bright ray of light burning
I held my passion
Claimed a name for naming
Untrod, unfelt, half seen territory
Making walls my strangers
Making mountains
Captains of my heart
Heroic summits
Left clouds dreamers
And streamers trailing dove tail
Old engravings
Unknown Heiroglyphics from another life
There admist the whirling pools and crackling laughs
The sun and ease of day break
Were the broken, unspoken stones lye amidst the,
Epitaphs!
yvette m smith poet of uk
july 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Total Trust.....Lost
This is the story of the total trust
You gave me and I lost
I was a bad thing
I never used to think
More than once I dropped
And you helped me on my feet up
And then again I didn't care
And walked in that very same dark track
You pushed me to show me the light
And that there is a better track
Straight, bright and no one can dropp in it
In front of you I walked in it
But still the dark was what I wished
You saw me walk to the light
You gave me your total trust
You never thought I'll go back to the dark
After I knew that there was light
But too bad I did
You somehow saw me in it
And all the trust you gave me I lost
Because you saw me dropp again
But it was a bigger drop
You told me help yourself out
This time I really regret
But you said to late
You've dropped
And only you can help yourself out
Because if I help you
You'll return back to it
That very dark scary track
And here I'm begging you
To help me out of it
And you'll see me in that light
Never wanting that dark life
Please help me out
And give me Ur forgiveness
After I take Allah's.
poem by Rudy Hossam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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aN INTRUSION IN THREE COLOURS
RED ZIPPED IN FROM OUTTA THE CAULD WIND WINTER EVENINGTIDY
SET ON RUDDY RED CHEEKS
big red lips in a library, shouted
'DEW MINDEE IF i take a pew from outta the cauld winter windy eventidee? '
mockingly...shockingly
BLUE BLURTED OUT IN A CONCERT FROMA RAW BACK CHESTY COUGH SPILL
'Helpee me I needy some air! '
White pressed in from the white shade of pale window
And shrouded the circus of dark mournerS in a ray of
Hopeful light
Spun x rays shone froma top set of dentures on the left hand
sideboard by the bed of the dead man's head
Indicated he had mad his final ascension to heavenly spheres
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prayer
There is no prayer, for the dead man in the street
For the pauper who plies his trade
For the traveller with dirty feet
There is no prayer that can eclipse the sun
For what is done is done!
No mourning
Turning cry
No casting shadow
Only dust
And so much lost
In unprayed prayer
Their lives
Waiting to begin in praying
Beyond hands tied down
And lights fragile threads of dawn
The street is full of them
These silent chanting
Unheard prayers that mourn
So many lives
Lit candles
Waiting to be heard
In the darkest light
yvette m smith uk poet may 09
poem by Yvette Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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