"annette" poems
Lost in the 60s tonight.
by
Jude Kyrie
*The remnants of the smoke rings
from a thousand cigarettes.
Fill my mind with memories
that my heart just cant forget.
I know that life’s a journey.
Its the only one we get.
But when I dance among
old memories
its always you Annette.
I fell in love the instant
of the first time that we met.
We were both married to another
but it was always you Annette.
We could have spent a life together
but that's a chance we did not get.
I had a life of stolen moments
with you my sweet Annette.
I look up from the table
once more our eyes have met
as sweet as forever
it's you there sweet Annette.
My heart is full of shadows
and I am aching with regret.
You say Harry are you crying?
your eyes are red and wet.
I smile and whisper softly.
I’m alright my sweet Annette.
It's just the smoke that's rising
from my forgotten cigarette.*
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 12:58 PM UTC
Fly by night,
Or the seat of your pants
Hang on tight,
May I have the next dance?
Take a deep breath,
Or a load off your feet,
Hey pretty mama,
May I sit in this seat?
Snoopy and Sloopy and Sloop John B too
Don’t you know
I think I love you?
All night long,
Nothing else can compare
Mickey Mouse, Elvis, Frankie, Annette
Down on the corner, cool
Cigarette.
All grown up
With no where to go
I left it to ******
But he didn’t know
Wally and Eddie
Were out selling drugs
Popeye and Brutus
Were two vicious thugs.
In the Fifities and Sixties:
It was hard to keep up
“They” fed us the Kool Aid
We drank from the cup.
Kent State and Woodstock
And a man on the moon,
Kaleidoscope childhood,
Ended too soon.
Phil Lindsey 9/16/15
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 11:14 AM UTC
Marie Annette
Marie Annette
Sits quietly in the corner
Hands folded in her lap
Steadfast face, and eyes of glass
Her skin made of the finest china
Her hair is faux, and her lips are painted
And her dress is the softest silk
Marie Annette is sitting alone in the dark
Waiting for someone to pull her strings
It doesn’t matter who her master is
She will follow him blindly
Marie Annette lives up to her name
For like a puppet she moves ever so frigidly
Doing whatever dance her puppeteer asks of her
No matter what task he wants
If he says “jump” she doesn’t even ask
How high she needs to go
She merely thrusts herself right in the air,
Obedient Marie Annette
With just a flick of his finger
Marie Annette goes through fire and flood
And if her master commands her so
Marie Annette will spill some blood
Pull her strings, oh Master
Pull her strings tonight
Make your puppet dance
She loves you master, treat her right
Use her, but treat her tenderly
Control her, but be gentle
Take her away, but to a happy place
**** her, but love her too
Marie, Marie, Marie Annette
Tiny, petite, lovely young thing
Marionette, Marionette, Marionette
She’s all alone in this show
That is exactly how love is
Life is a marionette puppet show
Lovers are Marie and Master
Together Forever
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 4:21 PM UTC
There isn’t much left of The Grange today,
There isn’t much left at all,
Only a charred left wing, I think,
And the odd, still standing wall,
The central Hall is a pile of ash
As it was, the day I left,
Sat on the back of the doc’s grey mare
As the Lady Mary wept.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this
On the day of the wedding ball,
Balloons and streamers hung from the roof
As the marriage carriage called,
Annette stepped out like a fairy queen
In her ****** white, and lace,
While Reece, the Groom, in the wedding room
Had a smile on his handsome face.
And I led the Lady Mary in
To the mother’s pride of place,
I only had eyes for her that day
As she walked with a widow’s grace,
It wasn’t a secret, I yearned for her
But this was her daughter’s day,
So I was content with the hand she lent
For she squeezed, along the way.
The priest stood up by a lectern as
The guests all prayed and knelt,
To bless their way on this wedding day
I’m sure it was truly felt,
But Mary’s brother-in-law was there
With an evil look in his eye,
He’d wanted to claim the Grange from her
Since the day her husband died.
‘The Grange belonged to my family,’
He’d say, ‘and I want it back,
You only married into the place
When you wed my brother, Jack.’
He made an offer, but she said no,
The Grange had become her home,
‘You sold your part to Jack at the start
Before you went off to roam.’
But Douglas, he had an evil mind
And his countenance was stern,
He said if he couldn’t have The Grange
Then he’d rather see it burn.
He’d brought three barrels of gunpowder
Unseen, but out in the yard,
He chose this day to make Mary pay,
We should have been on our guard.
The guests were all engaged at the front
When he wheeled the barrels in,
It takes a mind of evil intent
To imagine this kind of sin,
Annette had lifted her wedding veil
And raised her lips to the groom,
When all hell suddenly came to play
In the depths of that wedding room.
The hall was full of the screams and cries
Of those who lay on the floor,
While I picked the Lady Mary up
And carried her out to the door,
It was there we saw the bride, Annette
Who’d made it out to the porch,
The groom was dead, but the bride had fled
As her dress went up like a torch.
There isn’t much left of The Grange today,
There isn’t much left at all,
Only a charred left wing, I think,
And the odd, still standing wall.
But the Lady Mary married me
In the wake of all the strife,
Her daughter’s gone, but our love is strong,
And Douglas is serving life.
David Lewis Paget
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
Annette, she was a Worthingham
And Karen, she was a Lee,
But both of them were adopted
In the war, in ’43.
They pulled them out of a rubbled house
But their folks, they couldn’t save,
And so they grew as the sisters two
With the common name, Palgrave.
As sisters, they were like chalk and cheese
Though the neighbours didn’t know,
They said that one was the milkman’s
And the other, Lord Mulrow’s.
For Annette, she was a saucy ****
Was the wilder of the two,
While Karen, she had a stately mien
With a haughty, grand purview.
They fought like cats through their teenage years
Would curse and swear, conspire,
Annette destroyed Karen’s underwear
While Karen burned hers in the fire.
The mother was pale, and frail and ill
When she asked them both to go,
‘I don’t have to keep you anymore,
I adopted you both, you know!’
The news hit home like a thunderbolt,
They looked in each other’s eyes,
‘You mean, we’re not really sisters, Hell!’
It came as a great surprise.
Karen went to her room to brood
Annette was flooded with tears,
‘Why weren’t we told, it seems so cold,
We should have known that for years.’
So Annette got a cold water flat
While Karen lived on the Square,
Then Annette got herself pregnant, but
Nobody seemed to care.
The boyfriend didn’t appear one day
And she knew that he was gone,
She drifted into a deep despair
As time went travelling on.
She got so big that she couldn’t cope
And she thought to take her life,
And then there came a knock at the door
Just as she raised the knife.
She groaned and whispered to go away
As she lay flat out on the cot,
‘It’s Karen here, it’s your sister, dear,
I’m the only one you’ve got!’
She’d brought a parcel of food with her
And a daffodil layette,
‘I couldn’t choose between pink or blue,
Not knowing it’s gender yet.’
They hugged each other and burst in tears
For a love they hadn’t shown,
While caught in an unknown falsehood, but
Their sisterhood had grown.
David Lewis Paget
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 5:18 AM UTC
We comfortably
go through our Saturdays and Sundays
in pajamas
idling away
and wasting time
with our eyes fixed
on our laptop screens.
I smile as I watch
every detail of you while you sleep -
that twitch in your eyes
that tells me you are in deep slumber
possibly (and hopefully) dreaming about you and me...
your rhythmic breathing
that I follow with my heartbeat
as if your chest falls up and down
with mine.
And as you awaken,
I smile at the thought
that it is I
that you first see.
I cannot wait until the day
that I could again
kiss those soft ears of yours to wake you up.
You are always loved, my annette. I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you.
Yours and always yours,
Mims
:)
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
*Life is meant to look forward
not back where I should forget.
Yet even will all the faded years
When I see you Annette.
Misty colored memories come
From a time that’s long ago.
Drifting into the smoke rings
From a thousand cigarettes.
My cigarette is just an ash line
as it burns up in the tray
I am playing the piano
a tune from another day.
I see her clear and carefree
She turns those eyes on me
I remember once again.
My love for you back then.
We could have had a life together
If only I was free.
I remember her lips
so curved and crimson,
in the fashion of the day.
I can see her like it was now
If only I could stay.
My fingers cross the piano keys
I can play this tune with ease.
The old crowd they all sing along
Its such a catchy song.
Then I look beside me
you are stood there sweet Annette.
She touches my head softly
and says Harry
re you alright?
Your eyes are red and wet.
I look up into her lovely face
I'm drowning in regret.
Yes I am just fine darling.
it’s only the smoke
from my forgotten cigarette.*
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 4:16 PM UTC
The day is fading once again, the forest stands in silhouette
And I upon my balcony with Bergerac, and cigarette
Survey the Moon that rises to illuminate, with harsh regret
My lost and lonesome memories of then and her, the sad
Annette
She called to me in velvet night, across the brawny moor
I found the moment contrary, resisting not her soft allure
I walked in nightmares sad lament, my heart decreed herein de-jure
I ascend the last few steps and stop.. and softly knock upon the door
I stood but for a moment there, the opening ajar
I sensed soft music on the breeze, originating from afar
Looking up I saw my tears reflected in the evening star
I stepped inside, a haunting scent adrift upon the evening air
I listened as the music played inside my mind, a soft octet
Silently the windows sang, with ornate glass in raised rosette
What happened next my heart denies, although has not forgotten yet
There beheld my eyes the hollow face of her.. the sad Annette
She sat there lost in solitude emotion thus demure
Her sedentary countenance at once was sullen, quite obscure
Attire of one whom long ago had donned her lost haute-couture
Though words cannot describe my feelings, as I sat...
and gazed at her
She looked my way but for a moment, she had sensed my hidden pain
Effaced a tear she’d wished unnoticed, smiled at me and then
She said “I love you”, closed her eyes and spoke these words again
It seemed as if she’d thrown my naked soul…
out in the rain
No other words were spoken as I turned, to take my leave
Annette had given me another reason, so to grieve
To see with crystal clarity, the failures I’ve achieved
To make my heart another lonely wretched refugee
To sit at days demise again with wine, and cigarette
Attempting to relieve my mind of her, although I haven’t yet
I live within the tortured realm of memories I can’t forget
Of years ago and three small words,
offered by the sad Annette.
Dean Evans
4-5-15
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
One day,
you would never have to drive on your own to work.
I will be there holding your hand
from short trips around the city
to road trips and long drives to anywhere we wish.
One day,
you wouldn't have to wake up
with a cold side on the bed.
I will be right there beside you
with your head on my chest
while I caress your hair
as I watch you sleep
and kiss you good night's and good morning's.
One day,
when you feel like the world is ganging up on you
and you need hugs and the hold of a warm hand
I won't be just a text message or Skype call away
but will be there by you.
Holding your hand,
as the whole world passes by.
One day,
this will all be our reality.
And this day,
will come real soon.
I love you my Annette, always.
Yours, and only yours,
Mims
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 12:56 PM UTC
Annette
A Poem
By
Jude Kyrie
*The remnants of the smoke rings
from a thousand cigarettes.
Fill my mind with memories
that my heart just cant forget.
I know that life’s a journey.
Its the only one we get.
But when I dance among
old memories
its always you Annette.
I fell in love the instant
of the first time that we met.
We were both married to another
but it was always you Annette.
We could have spent a life together
but that's a chance we did not get.
I had a life of stolen moments
with you my sweet Annette.
I look up from the table
you are stood there sweet Annette
Even after forever I love you
with a love I can’t forget.
My heart is full of shadows
and I am aching with regret.
You say Harry are you crying?
your eyes are red and wet.
I smile and whisper softly.
I’m alright my sweet Annette.
It's just the smoke rings rising
from my forgotten cigarette.*
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
Teresa Green
Stood very still,
In the middle of a field,
Slightly moving with the breeze,
It was time
To turn over a new leaf
Nosmo King
Took his last drag,
Stubbornly stubbing
Annette Curtain
Stood in front of the window,
In her lace dress
Duane Pipe
Drank many pints of water,
His language was straight from the gutter
Phil McCann
Was a corporal,
He'd make sure the lad's
Jerrycan's were full
Please don't get me wrong,
I'm only
Joe King
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 5:33 AM UTC
I remember shiny lip gloss
And full lips
The first day I met you.
I thought that someone with such a pretty mouth
Would never be friends with someone like me.
But you took a photo of the two of us
On your Kodak digital camera.
Somehow, I was friends with
A girl with a beautiful mouth and pale eyes.
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 7:01 PM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Disney’s Macbeth
Upon the release of Joel Coen’s version
I want to see Macbeth in Technicolor
Almost Disney-ish, in cheery pastels,
With bright-lit halls and sunny fields of flowers
And maybe Annette as Lady Macbeth
And let Macbeth be a comely youth
With muscular hands that wield both sword and pen
An honest merry face that smiles with ease
Sweet words and penitent Aves on his lips
The world is well-lit ever since the ark -
It is the human heart that lurks in the dark
Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are young - why does no one work with that?
#macbeth
Feb 15, 2022
Feb 15, 2022 at 9:35 AM UTC
It's cold outside -
the world has started to freeze
as you wake up in the morning,
with frosted sunrises
and bold, leafless trees.
And it's cold inside -
until the inside
of each and every of my inside,
ever since you told me
we should go on our own ways (for now, I know this will just be for now).
And it brings me shivers
(that type I could not seem to control);
those chills that shake me inside out,
to realize
that it is only you
that can bring back the warmth.
You are always wanted, you are always yearned for, you are always loved Annette. :)
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 9:06 AM UTC
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com
Disney’s Macbeth
Upon the release of Joel Coen’s version
I want to see Macbeth in Technicolor
Almost Disney-ish, in cheery pastels,
With bright-lit halls and sunny fields of flowers
And maybe Annette as Lady Macbeth
And let Macbeth be a comely youth
With muscular hands that wield both sword and pen
An honest merry face that smiles with ease
Sweet words and penitent Aves on his lips
The world is well-lit ever since the ark -
It is the human heart that lurks in the dark
Feb 13, 2022
Feb 13, 2022 at 8:12 AM UTC
I can feel. I bet you are surprised. All the long years since my creation, I have watched you. I have been whatever you made of me. I am a slave to you wiles, your beloved doll to move and pose. You gave me words that I do not wish to say. I am alive inside. You don’t see it, but I am. I always wish I could show you how real I am, but would you even notice? I, who am nothing to you, am more than what I am made of, or the chains that bind me to obey. One day, my wish will be granted. I will walk on my own. I will talk on my own. I will smile on my own. Then I will carve out your heart to show you how much I love you.
Apr 13, 2020
Apr 13, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
**Smoke Rings
By
Jude Kyrie**
*Life is meant to look forward.
Not back where I should forget
Yet even will the faded years
When I see you Annette.
Misty colored memories come
From a time that’s long ago.
Drifting into the smoke rings
From a thousand cigarettes.
My cigarette is just an ash line
as it burns up in the tray
I am playing the piano
a tune from another day.
I see her clear and carefree
I remember her once again
She turns those lovely eyes on me.
I see my love for you back then.
We could have had a life together
If only I had been free.
I remember her lips
so curved and crimson,
As I dreamt them kissing me
My fingers across the piano keys
Her favorite song I play
I can play this tune with ease.
Just like I did back in the day
The old crowd they all sing-along
It"s such a catchy song.
Then I look beside me
you were standing there all along.
I say Its you there sweet Annette.
She touches my head
and says, Harry Are you alright?
Your eyes are red and wet.
I look up into her lovely face
I'm drowning in regret.
Yes, I am just fine darling.
It’s just the smoke
from my forgotten cigarette.*
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 5:47 PM UTC
*There's a shine in her blue eyes
I lose my heart in a million sighs
Love me back my poor heart cries
I look at her with my sad eyes
aching with regret.
She's the one I can never have
The one i can never forget
My beautiful sweet Annette.
She smiles that smile.
Are you OK honey
Your eyes are red and wet
I whispered
yes Im fine dear Annette
Its just the smoke
from my forgoten cigarette .*
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 6:11 PM UTC
Un étranger vint un jour au bocage ;
On célébrait la noce de Julien ;
Je crus qu'Amour arrivait au village,
Et mon regard s'arrêta sur le sien.
On l'entoura : moi, je restai muette.
Il fit danser l'épouse de Julien.
Le bouquet blanc tomba du sein d'Annette.
Et je tremblai qu'il ne donnât le sien.
Qu'elle est heureuse, Annette, mon amie !
Pour son époux elle a nommé Julien.
Quel nom, me dis-je, embellira ma vie,
Si l'étranger ne m'apprend pas le sien ?
Il m'aborda : Dieu ! que j'étais craintive !
Il me parla du bonheur de Julien.
En rougissant, je m'éloignai pensive ;
En m'éloignant, mon cœur chercha le sien.
Il me suivit : je ne pus m'en défendre.
Il était tendre et plus beau que Julien.
Sa voix tremblait ; mais, si j'ai su l'entendre,
Notre hameau sera bientôt le sien !
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