maybe putting my teenage poems up ain't a good idea...and they don't rhyme! -well not all of them.
An easy one to start with...I am a...
Spinning on a metal spit,
how to get off of it?
pheasant, fowl, rodent too,
suffer as I now do!
hehe
The worthwhile poem...er
Malignancy a mere tendency -of mine?
Malignant at birth, flesh out the wound,
fully formed, undeformed,
stitching a necessity, first cut, necessary,
wilful and needy, pleading and supplicant,
not human, no soul, ideas or consciousness,
yet pain, anger
and promise.
Brutality protected and shielded while; innocent?
Or harmful, spiteful, gifted, bored, sad; mis-treated?
Personality developing, it will turn out fine,
fine?
wonderful.
Rapid progression, where went the time?
we did this, read that, saw this: all appreciated,
all worthwhile and we loved him;
so why...
Polite, personable and arrogant,
skilled, approachable and sometimes a deeper insight,
glimpses of an internal dynamo driving it onwards,
an unrelenting pacemaker beating, pulsing,
but increasingly pressured.
New pastures of experience through
each gaze upon you, each stroke/blow/scratch and tear,
remembering each insult of what others would think
from memory tainted by...now.
A shocking reminder of what are is to do wrong,
to be sublime is to have missed out,
to become who we are is to cake ourselves in the mud of failure,
then to break that cast,
remould
so as to blaze anew.
To meet new people is to be purified, when you know people well
remember only the good.
-I was only 17 at the time...and having a wierd relationship with a girl
AS FOR A really good WW3 poem -sorry BorderPatrol.
Another poem! I never wrote this one, it is by a guy called Roger McGough, it is quite possible that you may have read it before. It is call Icarus Allsorts.
Icarus Allsorts
A meteorite is reported to have landed
in New England. No damage is said...
A littlebit of heaven fell
From out the sky one day
It landed in the ocean
Not so very far away
The General at the radar screen
Rubbed his hands with glee
And grinning pressed the button
That started World War Three.
From every corner of the earth
Bombs began to fly
There were even missile jams
No traffic lights in the sky
In the times it takes to blow your nose
The people fell, the mushrooms rose
House! cried the fatlady
As the bingohall moved to various parts
of the town
Raus! cried the German butcher
as his shop came tumbling down
Philip was in the countinghouse
Counting out his money
The Queen was in the parlour
Eating bread and honey
When through the window
Flew in a bomb
And made they go all funny
In the time it takes to draw a breath
Or to eat a toadstool, instant death
The rich
Huddled outside the doors of their fallout shelters
Like drunken carolsingers
The poor
Clutching shattered televisions
And last weeks editions of the T.V Times
(but the very last)
Civil defence volunteers
With their tin hats in one hand
And their heads in the other
C.N.D supporters
Their ban the bomb badges beginning to rust
Have scrawled I told you so in the dust.
A littlebit of heaven fell
From out the sky one day
It landed in Vermount
North-Eastern U.S.A
The general at the radar screen
He should have got the sack
But that wouldnt bring
Three thousand million, seven hundred, and sixty-eight
people back,
Would it?
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