www.poetry.org.uk
copyright The Poetry Organisation
November 1st 2002

A SELECTION OF THE NEW POEMS SENT TO OUR SITE
updated at intervals


 

 


BEAUTIFUL GAME

Would you like to see a beautiful game
whose players wear both number and name
how fearful the anticipation of jubilation
surely now it's our turn to feel such elation
can you bear to go through the emotional mangle
and every wrangle broadcast in reverse angle
for anthem 220 toes toe the line
studded studs with hairdon'ts all wanting to shine

"Begin!" signals the whistle so shrill
now is the time for tactics and skill
cheer for the boys with banners and flags
great escape, face paint, red & white gladrags
a tackle, a casualty, a substitute
a corner, a penalty, a chance to shoot
push hard, avoid card, fast feet to the box
the crowd for the lions with roaring vox

an offside and inside the stadium behold
as a story all too familiar unfolds
snatched away once again the game we designed
defeat now complete but we are resigned
spectators still seated with heads in hands
thousands of leaden legs leave the stands
the loss extends far beyond the score
ah well - next time for sure ...


DEAR DAD,

You don't write to me,
But i still write to you.
Maybe you're not interested,
In the things that I do.
Or maybe you're too lazy,
To pick up your pen.
You weren't before Christmas,
You wrote to me then.

It could be my mum,
You're scared of her, aren't you?
She drags up the past,
It comes back to haunt you.
But that's no excuse,
For the effort you've made.
You loved me before,
But memories fade.

We could have made it work,
The relationship- me and you.
Why can't we meet up?
But you can't do that too.
I phone up your house,
And you're not always home.
But I'm always here,
Can't you pick up the phone.

I'm fed up of it now,
You don't want your daughter.
That's the reaction I get,
From an absent father.
So thats it for good, Dad,
There's nothing to gain.
I'll step out of your life,
You won't see me again.

I've got plans for the future,
I've worked really hard.
I've saved all my money,
I'm going to go far.
I'll work up the ladder,
In things that I do.
I only need me,
I don't need you.

Leanne

 

THE URBAN COWBOYS

Let Dublin rejoice in their young people's choice
To ride bareback through pastures of stone
It's a beautious thing, to see horsehair and skin
So close to nature and to home

Should only the rich enjoy the ride
With stallion and beauty at their side
Let the wild shaggy horse proclaim his fame
In the marvelous race across Dublin's plain

They're not racing for gold, like their rich counterparts
They just want to follow the love in their hearts
For the wind in their hair and the rush they glean
From galloping bareback through fields of gren

It's a joy to see children ride God's wondrous creature
Through streets so long plagued by the car's human nature
Maiming, polluting a city so fair
Taking the lives of children so rare

So lock up your cars and open the streets
To children who ride their God-given treats
Be glad in your hearts for the glint in their eyes
They're the children of Ireland, the Urban Cowboys.

.
Sarah

 

DESPERATE VOICES

I thought I heard my baby cry
The night you walked away
It sounded weak and with a sigh
It cried for you to stay

You shouted so loud, you could not hear
The voice of one so small
You said the cost was much too dear
To give your love to all

Now I only hear the voice so loud
The words, so cold and choice
That weaved my darling's baby shroud
And drowned his tender voice

I cry so hard, my heart it bleeds
My unborn star is dead
My soul is tangled, choked by weeds
And the fool invades my head


Sarah


I have only ever sent out one poem before, the only one I thought was good enough. It was published in Woman's Way, an Irish publication, in 1996.
Here it is.

HONEY LOVE

Beautiful, velvet bumble bee,
Laden with honey for me to see,
Circling, buzzing until I act,
Then ram a sting home, sharp - exact!
I stand in shock, not believing it's true.
I swell and cry, curse 'til I'm blue.
You are a wasp! I was such a blind fool,
And the honey is sour - isn't that cruel?


Sarah

 

GOLDEN MEADOWS

She lays her weary head upon her pillow
And dreams of golden meadows far away
She walks among the flowers and the creatures
As butterflys dance along the way

Too soon the sun comes bursting through her window
As she stretches to start another day
She goes to work but hurries home each evening
To dream of golden meadows far away

Ann Leonard

 

KISS YOU THERE

I shall kiss you there,
to feel the warmth of your womanly flesh,
as we lay under the shade,
of the weeping willow tree.
Letting the warm country air,
caress us so tenderly.
Feeling like Adam and Eve,
within our own private paradise.

I shall kiss you there,in secret,
away from prying eyes of all.
Bringing you in silent, gentle bliss,
which should be accustomed for a lady.
So sweet and tender,
our bodies joined as one,
within this moment of wondrous pleasure.

I shall kiss you there,
whenever and where ever you wish.
Longing to embrace those sweet pods of tenderness,
that so many other long for the same.
As they watch in silent admiration,
the moment my lips meet yours.

Michael Czech


SCHOOL TIME TERROR

I start to shake,
from my head to my toes,
tears fall fropm my eyes,
and then to my nose,
i start to enter,
the big metal gates,
knowing to well,
what terror awaits,
the calling of names,
is how it will start,
then throwing of stones,
aimed at my heart,
like shadows that creep,
from the darkness of skies,
my enemy surrounds me,
like a yard full of flies,
one day i'll be stronger,
i will open a darkened hole,
then hell and damnation,
will take away your soul,
every day you awake,
i'll make you see,
all of the pain,
you gave to me,
i'll rule your life,
you will never be free.

 

LINDA BAILEY

Linda Bailey is a bully
Linda Bailey pulls my hair
She's been certified unruly
She's been taken into care

Linda's mum's an alcoholic
Linda's mum is always pissed
She'll tell you that she's always falling
for all the blokes she says she's kissed

Linda's Dad has buggered off
Linda's Dad has gone for good
Left her mum with debts to clear
juggling bills for clothes and food

Linda's brother is a junky
Linda's brother's shooting smack
He thinks he's wicked cool and funky
A body full of needle tracks

Linda's sister's on the game
Linda's sister picks up blokes
none of them recal her name
her cheap perfume and dirty jokes

Linda Bailey is a bully
Linda Bailey pulls my hair
She's been certified unruly
do any of you out there care?


Adam