Recital 2

Hello, I'm Matt. I thought I'd read some poems and stuff then get off the stage.

Short poems about ordinary things 1

There was a scrunched up bit of paper
It sat in the corner of a room
It was Tuesday

Don't expect them to get better. My next is about my first recital which was a few weeks ago and didn't entirely go to plan.

A poem about social discomfort in my first poetry recital

I... Um
I am...
Ahem,
(Mumbles) -Uncomfortable
Matt... I am Matt

So, I'm stood in front of you
And you're looking at me
And I'm talking to you
And you're listening to me
And your eyes are on me
And your minds are on me
Looking at me and listening to me and eyes on me and minds on me
And I'm thinking about what you think about me
And now I feel awkward
So I'm not coming forward
My movements seem backward
So, now you feel awkward
About drawing toward
Because I'm afraid I won't get the reward
Of your praise

So you're going to be polite!!!
Don't be polite!
I hate when you're polite, because I won't believe it!
It's not real praise so it doesn't MEAN ****
It's not much better than telling me I'm ****
But don't tell me I'm ****!
Please!! I can't take it!

So, now you're just getting bored and frustrated
Listening to me talking about feelings I've debated

I want to get off
I want to get out
I also want you to clap
And I want you to shout

So I'm tense and I'm nervous and we're all feeling scared
About if this rhymes good enough to convince me you cared

And then I fell over

I genuinely did, off this tiny stupid pallet stage into a banner. I looked proper cool.

Short poems about ordinary things 2

With a start, he woke
His vision still blurred from his nights sleep
The dawn had broke
At the end of his bed was a figure
As black as coke
Murmuring the words he dreaded
"Wake up, it's time for work!"

I'm an artist/teacher really and I randomly wrote the title of this poem in a sketchbook about 7 years ago. I wrote the poem last week. Typical creative procrastination

Flowers on a lamppost
Dying in the sun

A seed
A son
He grows
He flowers
He blossoms
He bears his fruit

"See ya mum, dad! I'm off out for a drive!"
"No drinking flower!"
"Nah, just fruit juice!"

The fruit has fallen
It has ripened
It has over ripened
It has brewed and stewed as it matured
His fruit is strong
It's confidence intoxicating

"Last one mate!"
"Sneaky 3 and drive"
"Get em in then!"

More fruit

The tree, beautiful, flowers everywhere
Bountiful fruit
But the fruit is un ripened not ready to fall
Don't shake the tree

Crash
The tree shakes
The fruit falls
The petals fall from the flower

No more fruit now, it is rotting
Just flowers on a lamp post dying in the sun
Bearing a note saying
"We will always love you flower,
Sleep well,
Mum and Dad"

Yeah, I haven't really got a funny joke about that one. This links going to be a bit of a car crash really.

Short poems about ordinary things 3

He enters the house
She watches as he walks past without speaking
Just like every day
He does not offer her a cup of tea
He does not offer to cook for her
He doesn't even look her in the eye
She looks down at her food
A meal for one
Again
She is alone
So she tucks the food into her pouch and goes for a spin in the hamster wheel... Wheeeeee!!!

This next one was essentially me having a little whinge to myself about getting dumped.

All the damaged people

All the damaged people,
Vultures of the past still swooping high above
They look out over the future
But with a mind on the past
As they cross the landscape they notice shapes in the clouds and in the dunes
Many of them are beautiful
But a cloud is a cloud
And a dune is a dune
And there are always memories in those shapes of the ones in their past
So they stop
Unable to go back through the long trudge that got them here
Unable to move forward in case these dunes and clouds are the same
They test a few steps
Where the land seems different
But it's too different and they don't feel comfortable
They test ones that are familiar, a few steps
But even though this is comfortable, they are reminded of their past trials
"I can't do that again"
They stop
"I'll wait here, until the landscape changes"
The vultures continue swooping above

This next poem is ace. It's easily the best poem ever written.

Short poem about ordinary things 3

The sense of loss
Remorse
He's dead
The end of a long cold winter
His batteries are finally flat
I'll have to call the RAC

I'm a teacher and I started a new job this week after a few weeks of holidays and there were no kids in and I got bored of waiting for Dave, so I wrote this.

Back to work

I'm here
But I'm not here
I'm half lost in limbo
Somewhere between now and the past and the future
But off to the left a bit
And slightly south
Behind that bush
Wearing a banana-man costume

Why am I there?
Well, why be anywhere in particular?
Especially now
With no kids in
Boredom
And time
To dream
But nothing to do
Except tap tap tap on my phone

Trying to get back into it
Motivated
Energised
With no stimulus
So my mind flit flit flits
Here and there
Hither and thither
A failed date.
Jumping in a bush at college,
Drunk
How long will I work here?
Tony dressed as a zombie cow
Did that kid trace that or paint it free hand?
What will I teach them?
When's Dave getting here? It's been more than 10 mins
The hum of the computer
Girls, girls, girls... ***
Cuddles and company
Love?

How long?

I hope that tomorrow I can concentrate better than this.

Short poem about ordinary things 4

Hiding in a corner of a darkened room
Eyes covered hoping he can't see me
I hear the footsteps growing closer
A shudder down my spine
Is this excitement or fear?
Then I hear my fathers voice outside
"Coming, ready or not!"

A poem about killing time

This is a poem about killing time
I'm thinking of ways of making it...
...
...
...
...
...
Rhyme