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angela brooks Jan 2018
Today I knew it was over. How did I know?
It was what you said, the reasons for me to “keep in touch”.
Not for you, you do not die for me. My time has gone,
Forever lost. You’ve moved on, I’m kicked into touch.
I have always known this thing, this dulled part.
It only shone when time allowed.
I never had, and now will never have, the whole heart.
angela brooks May 2020
Funny how soon normal creeps up on us                  
and clears away the strangeness
with each sweep of the broom.  
                    
The sky looks the same as it did,
we walk, side by side, as we did.
And the death toll mounts, the police checks grow

We can measure metres without a rule
(though we did feet and inches when at school)
We learn to use Whatsapp and Skype,
 just to see our families’ faces.
 then we disinfect our phones, wipe away the traces.

We’re told to wash our hands for twenty secs
and obedience – unnatural – is what the world expects.
Strangers shop for strangers and an obedient population
applauds an institution on demand, at a given time

Then we go back into our houses
close the windows, lockdown the doors
consider the unseen enemy, and, once again,

                          mop the floors.
angela brooks Jan 2020
It’s best in the morning
Just as the sun is rising
So warm, so soft
Filling the house with the scent of love

You are irresistible,
Beyond compare
I love the taste of your skin
Against my tongue

I love you buttery and honeyed
Golden in the dawn’s soft glow
I can’t get you out of my head
You’re mine – all mine
My delicious, delectable, delovely

            Daily Bread

© AEB
angela brooks Sep 2016
He was sitting on the stone cold step outside the Co-op
A thin blanket around his thin shoulders
His outstretched hand reached out to me
And touched my heart.
I gave him the cup of coffee I had been drinking
He seemed pleased, I felt good.

I saw him again on Saturday night, he looked thinner
His face hidden beneath a ***** grey hoodie.
Once more the outstretched hand reached out to me
I gave him a warm blanket, made of wool.
He grunted thanks, I felt good.

One week later I went looking for him on the stone cold step
outside the Co-op
He was sitting on the woollen blanket,
his eyes shrunken into his skull
I gave him my coat.

He gave an almost imperceptible nod of his covered head
And stretched his hand towards me again.
I fumbled in my purse, and gave him all I had – he grunted “Huh”
I felt I’d let him down.

My friends said I was losing weight, my clothes no longer fitted me.
I gave my sweater made of cashmere
To the hooded skeletal figure on the doorstep
outside the Co-op

His jeans were frayed and ***** from the streets
I gave him mine, they no longer fitted me.
He looked up, his broken teeth bared in a forbidding, dangerous smile.
I flinched. His outstretched hand pulled at my wrist,
I backed away, he held me.

I tried to run but his fingers tightened their grip, digging into my flesh
He pulled me in the direction of my home.
His grip on my wrist burning hot

I turned at my door to see him, he grinned, his eyes seeking my soul.
His face now no longer thin, his bony fingers now fleshy,
his rotted teeth Improved.

I looked at my hand. I saw my reflection in his eyes. My face skeletal
with shrunken cheeks,
My shadowed deep set eyes
haunted.
He laughed a croaking triumphant laugh as he entered my house
And pushed me out.


I turned and my feet took me back to the stone cold step
Where I crouched down outside the Co-op
A thin blanket appeared on my thin shoulders
I held my outstretched hand towards an approaching stranger
Who walked on by.

©AEB 14.05.16
angela brooks Dec 2016
there were six fish
now just two swim slowly and silently
one sleeps the sleep of the dead
in the water
one floats eyes staring glassy
Two missing presumed dead
i drink coffee and write
to the relatives.
angela brooks Jan 2020
I don't wanna be your yesterday
Even if today is getting tough
I wanna be your now forever
Today and every day

I don't wanna be your yesterday
Remembered now and then
As a sometime occasional one time love
A thought, a shiver, brought to a close

A fading fading happening
Brings it's own lament
A clinging on a holding on
A not forgotten - yet

I don't wanna be your yesterday
Today is good enough for me
Today and every day for us
The way it used to be

Yesterday is gone forever
Forever in the past
But us, we two, yes, you and me
We're solid, built to last

I'm your yesterday,today, tomorrow
I'm your eternity
I'm yours, you're mine forever more
In body mind and soul

I don't wanna be your yesterday
Even if today is tough
Just hold me close, keep me close
That then is good enough

© Aeb
angela brooks Sep 2016
Out in the city sharing poetry
Bleeding my heart to strangers
Telling my life because they don't care
A smattering of applause, another drink
But what, my heart, have I opened up?
A can of worms
angela brooks May 2020
Looking Up   Locking Down

When is a lockdown not a lockdown?
When is a pandemic running its course?
Looking up, I see beautiful days, sunshine and flowers,
Clouds nowhere to seen in clear blue sky
But the warm soft air is full of danger.

So too, we are told, is being less than two metres
From a stranger.
No pleasant smiles or Good Mornings -
We cross the road, step into stranger’s driveways
Anything to avoid closing the gap,
getting too close to a fellow human.

I am dehumanized. Unhappy at the fear people have
At the sight of me
And the fear my children and grandchildren have
At the thought of a visit, which once brought joy
With (now forbidden) hugs.

Not long now say the country’s masters
Soon we’ll unlock the lock
But will we ever again feel trust and ease
In our restored freedoms?
How strange to hug and smile a greeting
When its been so long since our last meeting.

AEB April 2020
angela brooks Jun 2015
You, with your smile and smile and smile
What am I supposed to do
When you smile (in that way)
And take me all the way to rapture?
You, uncovering me, tasting me, knowing me
Who you never knew
Until there are No Secrets No Secrets No Secrets
Only me. And You.
angela brooks Jan 2018
Spitting on my hands I pick up my courage and face the dawning day.
No-one told me it would be like this,
This feeling of powerlessness,
The lack of control.
Today someone gave up their seat for me on a bus.
Why? Does my fragility show?
I am no different to yesterday,
When I was young.
When I am old and wiser, and worthy of respect
When my hair and skin are grey
These changes creeping quietly
Will mask my still young heart.
In my head I'll hear rock music roaring
Drowning out the years
While my smile belies the tartness of my tongue and
Poison wit.
Remember, we do not really change with age
We just grow older.
We just grow
We just
We
Die.
Written after talking to a stranger on the bus.
angela brooks Feb 2020
The noise of the silence is in my head
Distorting the speech around me into a babble
Grumbling and chuntering sensely.
Then the singing - Amazing Grace on a loop
Maddening and impossible to ignore

aeb © 2020

— The End —