"margate" poems - Hello Poetry

We walk along the beach at night, Arms entwined and hearts entwined, Waves lapping 'gainst our feet, Pebbles scurrying like sand ***** 'twixt our toes. Talking about ***** we are both A little tickly in the naughty bits department, As the gentle summer breeze Wafts through our matted ***** hairs. Just a brief hour or two ago, We were strangers at the Pier disco, And now our histories are to be Inextricably linked by fate. I do not know that, in a month or so, I shall need to send you A little yellow contact slip From the Margate Hospital special clinic Informing that you have been exposed to A most unpleasant social disease Which, with a bit of rotten luck, Could easily rot your insides. But, for now, our thoughts are far away As we laugh and joke together In our new found post-coital, Youthful lovers' camaraderie, Not wanting to speak too loudly or disturb The copulating pair by the nearby breakwater (Not that they'd be put off by a thunderclap Seeing as how he's on the short strokes by now).

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Jan 7, 2015

Jan 7, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC

edna-sweetlove

A Seaside Idyll

We walk along the beach at night, Arms entwined and hearts entwined, Waves lapping 'gainst our feet, Pebbles scurrying like sand ***** 'twixt our toes. Talking about ***** we are both A little tickly in the naughty bits department, As the gentle summer breeze Wafts through our matted ***** hairs. Just a brief hour or two ago, We were strangers at the Pier disco, And now our histories are to be Inextricably linked by fate. I do not know that, in a month or so, I shall need to send you A little yellow contact slip From the Margate Hospital special clinic Informing that you have been exposed to A most unpleasant social disease Which, with a bit of rotten luck, Could easily rot your insides. But, for now, our thoughts are far away As we laugh and joke together In our new found post-coital, Youthful lovers' camaraderie, Not wanting to speak too loudly or disturb The copulating pair by the nearby breakwater (Not that they'd be put off by a thunderclap Seeing as how he's on the short strokes by now).

34

me no spit English, me no no Englis, OK? me barbarrrian, why u one me speak Englis? u teach me inglish then u want me slave, ya? u teach me englis and mik mee go from nuture, from da trees and de lakes and hum of me ancesdors, ya? and you teach me englis glive me your stinkin additudes mik me pollute wold and **** wold like you, yes? I del u, me spit no englis but sdill u offer skolarsips and mik me shange name, and then tick on Englis name, ya? then peeple call me englis name like tom, ***** hairy or my wife become susan or margate and me become kristian, yeah? why I say no englis still u want to tich me englsi and give me book and mi say, mi say, luk at my nikid bady laik da die I was born liiiv me one don't tiich me englis or wan day I will kurs and swera in inglis like who, who, who, like that monster I hard play story is he nime Caliban, yeah? me barbarrbaian, dun't mike i civilized like u; me no no inglis; me happi with me lunguge and me hum and my trees and likes and annncesdral places¦ I no wants to spit engilsi and khanges my name and culturte! and un I no wan to go fom humen! leave me lone wan, I say! me no spit englis! or I put u in *** if you no go!

0

Oct 17, 2010

Oct 17, 2010 at 3:06 AM UTC

raj-arumugam

me no spit englis

me no spit English, me no no Englis, OK? me barbarrrian, why u one me speak Englis? u teach me inglish then u want me slave, ya? u teach me englis and mik mee go from nuture, from da trees and de lakes and hum of me ancesdors, ya? and you teach me englis glive me your stinkin additudes mik me pollute wold and **** wold like you, yes? I del u, me spit no englis but sdill u offer skolarsips and mik me shange name, and then tick on Englis name, ya? then peeple call me englis name like tom, ***** hairy or my wife become susan or margate and me become kristian, yeah? why I say no englis still u want to tich me englsi and give me book and mi say, mi say, luk at my nikid bady laik da die I was born liiiv me one don't tiich me englis or wan day I will kurs and swera in inglis like who, who, who, like that monster I hard play story is he nime Caliban, yeah? me barbarrbaian, dun't mike i civilized like u; me no no inglis; me happi with me lunguge and me hum and my trees and likes and annncesdral places¦ I no wants to spit engilsi and khanges my name and culturte! and un I no wan to go fom humen! leave me lone wan, I say! me no spit englis! or I put u in *** if you no go!

29

I watch the loping invalids in the courtyard nil by nil by nil feet How to describe a sensation such as heat to them? The interminable sun and so on I wonder if they understand that Light itself is not heat whereupon the bell sounds their minds divide and fog in the somnolent air I look at a Dupuytren in the room Cord around the chair His clothes hanging off him Trying to move his remarkable shock of hair From his eyes My room looks out beyond the yard It is high up - precarious Through that picturewindow, the world without is framed, beyond the walls the oldtown spires and roofing I see my own sadness, my impotence In every inch of the heights the girls come back, propping black bikes against the gate; my legs are wrapped in a blanket and I feel nothing below my waist Through a system of cables and consent my companion molls in Bergonic poise each day the room behind his eyes receded, the heart lessening the birds gathered around the bathroom doors to be fed He read about Escher in bed waiting to be plugged unbeknownst rigours of treatment, and unbeknownst methods until he forgot those days in Margate the sound of his nieces and everything he read about Escher – the light makes dull the precision of the thorn

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Aug 6, 2013

Aug 6, 2013 at 12:46 PM UTC

rf

light courted, coursed

I watch the loping invalids in the courtyard nil by nil by nil feet How to describe a sensation such as heat to them? The interminable sun and so on I wonder if they understand that Light itself is not heat whereupon the bell sounds their minds divide and fog in the somnolent air I look at a Dupuytren in the room Cord around the chair His clothes hanging off him Trying to move his remarkable shock of hair From his eyes My room looks out beyond the yard It is high up - precarious Through that picturewindow, the world without is framed, beyond the walls the oldtown spires and roofing I see my own sadness, my impotence In every inch of the heights the girls come back, propping black bikes against the gate; my legs are wrapped in a blanket and I feel nothing below my waist Through a system of cables and consent my companion molls in Bergonic poise each day the room behind his eyes receded, the heart lessening the birds gathered around the bathroom doors to be fed He read about Escher in bed waiting to be plugged unbeknownst rigours of treatment, and unbeknownst methods until he forgot those days in Margate the sound of his nieces and everything he read about Escher – the light makes dull the precision of the thorn

38

Get me a boat And let me discard my shoes and float soundlessly away from loneliness. Amidst these dark waters I do not believe I can capsize - Because I ride this endless sea in search of half-remembered blue eyes. I fall in love all at once, and much much too quickly. I patrol the beaches, heart heavy with glances from strangers in dark rooms and corridors. Get me this boat, and god, let me leave quietly, as the red Margate sun comes up. I want to search for someone else to love - I want so desperately to love ! If I find beneath the sea another boat of strangers waiting for me Then I shall be on New Land again. Populated with glances on trains, soft greetings, beginningless romances - Rushed smiles and other couple's dances. I am lost, lost, lost to this sea... The silent sea, creaking mass of serenity - Oh god - If only I weren't so in love with humanity.

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Jan 11, 2017

Jan 11, 2017 at 6:49 PM UTC

Rosel

Lost in sad seas

Get me a boat And let me discard my shoes and float soundlessly away from loneliness. Amidst these dark waters I do not believe I can capsize - Because I ride this endless sea in search of half-remembered blue eyes. I fall in love all at once, and much much too quickly. I patrol the beaches, heart heavy with glances from strangers in dark rooms and corridors. Get me this boat, and god, let me leave quietly, as the red Margate sun comes up. I want to search for someone else to love - I want so desperately to love ! If I find beneath the sea another boat of strangers waiting for me Then I shall be on New Land again. Populated with glances on trains, soft greetings, beginningless romances - Rushed smiles and other couple's dances. I am lost, lost, lost to this sea... The silent sea, creaking mass of serenity - Oh god - If only I weren't so in love with humanity.

16

Down on platform twenty three I saw her and she saw me but didn't wait. The train for Margate left at nine on time. I was late for the weekend date she'd gone with another Mother's son and left me there alone and glum. At five past ten when ready to leave a young lady grabbed me by the sleeve and I could not believe she had come back walked a mile on the railway track for me what glee she is the best that she could be I'm just lucky.

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Jun 29, 2013

Jun 29, 2013 at 1:19 AM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Station master

Down on platform twenty three I saw her and she saw me but didn't wait. The train for Margate left at nine on time. I was late for the weekend date she'd gone with another Mother's son and left me there alone and glum. At five past ten when ready to leave a young lady grabbed me by the sleeve and I could not believe she had come back walked a mile on the railway track for me what glee she is the best that she could be I'm just lucky.

19

Bouncy castles aren't in order They are for the plebs at some Margate two night hotel Cigarette stains gape on mildew carpets. The Lager is like a noxious high must be a Swiss import. The air turbulence pumps Ballroom Blitz The hotel owners son is taking us for a Glam ride Latex overkill, not to mention his suicide bride. She's waited so long to make her incorrect entry. And one stray cigarette has burst the initial plan a children's party Only the iinvited Hells Angels can make amends

0

Mar 21, 2016

Mar 21, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC

Antony_Glaser

Trapeze its getting worse

Bouncy castles aren't in order They are for the plebs at some Margate two night hotel Cigarette stains gape on mildew carpets. The Lager is like a noxious high must be a Swiss import. The air turbulence pumps Ballroom Blitz The hotel owners son is taking us for a Glam ride Latex overkill, not to mention his suicide bride. She's waited so long to make her incorrect entry. And one stray cigarette has burst the initial plan a children's party Only the iinvited Hells Angels can make amends

14

In the artefact of Dreamland, resurrected wooden rides hope for countless bookings, though the drunks still come to the Mechanical Elephant for their morning well-being. Buyer beware cameras with broken meters are displayed from the last camera shop We are witnessing the flaming of the sands that still remembers Mods and Rockers with a montage of photographs at the train station's entrance including two girls tearing each others hair out, ominously welcomes the expected arrivals from the four corners of the social, making this as exciting as a holiday weekend in Hither Green without the sea.

0

Jun 10, 2016

Jun 10, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC

Antony_Glaser

Margate

In the artefact of Dreamland, resurrected wooden rides hope for countless bookings, though the drunks still come to the Mechanical Elephant for their morning well-being. Buyer beware cameras with broken meters are displayed from the last camera shop We are witnessing the flaming of the sands that still remembers Mods and Rockers with a montage of photographs at the train station's entrance including two girls tearing each others hair out, ominously welcomes the expected arrivals from the four corners of the social, making this as exciting as a holiday weekend in Hither Green without the sea.

18

High over my Margate sandcastle a swarm of German planes alien mechanical bees pregnant with bombs to be dropped on streets I knew ( the neighbours aren't there when I get back ). My wild kick decapitates my castle of sand blue bucket and yellow ***** thrown to the waves useless in their frivolity. Out in foreign climes my brother is dying bleeding to death shot in the stomach ( so we will be told many months from now ). The sun shines bright as a crazy crayon'd drawing. The War impossibly far far away butterflies like flying confetti. The moment so unbelievably beautiful. I paddle this boat up and down up&down; this sun stupid shore as over there in the somewhere the real war roars like a mythical beast now no longer phoney. My battered bike undignified up-side-down I operating on its slow puncture pulling out its rubber gut patching it up. "There you go old chap!" I comfort it. I look through its back wheel the sun at its hub beginning to go down. I give it a spin with my free hand slowly it bisects the world into its many spinning sections faster...fasternow and the world...this world blurs into the white nothingness of speed. "So, that's what death is..?" I think. The world speeding up to nothing. The tip of my tongue upon my cone melting faster than I can lick it dropping upon a sandled toe with a deep nick in it. Unknown to me as now my brother has finished his dying becoming the memory he will always forever be. His b&w; smile. Alien mechanical bees swarm inside my mind. The tick-tick tick of the bicycle as I lift my left leg and... it's all downhill from here.

0

Apr 29, 2015

Apr 29, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC

donall-dempsey

DOWNHILL ALL THE WAY

High over my Margate sandcastle a swarm of German planes alien mechanical bees pregnant with bombs to be dropped on streets I knew ( the neighbours aren't there when I get back ). My wild kick decapitates my castle of sand blue bucket and yellow ***** thrown to the waves useless in their frivolity. Out in foreign climes my brother is dying bleeding to death shot in the stomach ( so we will be told many months from now ). The sun shines bright as a crazy crayon'd drawing. The War impossibly far far away butterflies like flying confetti. The moment so unbelievably beautiful. I paddle this boat up and down up&down; this sun stupid shore as over there in the somewhere the real war roars like a mythical beast now no longer phoney. My battered bike undignified up-side-down I operating on its slow puncture pulling out its rubber gut patching it up. "There you go old chap!" I comfort it. I look through its back wheel the sun at its hub beginning to go down. I give it a spin with my free hand slowly it bisects the world into its many spinning sections faster...fasternow and the world...this world blurs into the white nothingness of speed. "So, that's what death is..?" I think. The world speeding up to nothing. The tip of my tongue upon my cone melting faster than I can lick it dropping upon a sandled toe with a deep nick in it. Unknown to me as now my brother has finished his dying becoming the memory he will always forever be. His b&w; smile. Alien mechanical bees swarm inside my mind. The tick-tick tick of the bicycle as I lift my left leg and... it's all downhill from here.

87

I sat out here on this bench you see. The day you decided to call. Sure, I thought- I’ll give her sweet misery, and let the phone ring on. Then I thought, oh wait a second- I need not hope, but love. Then I called you up- sweat down my neck, tracing down my broken body, until into a pool of dread it falls, Sweet cigarette lit between my lips- death tightly bound within its seductive folds. This addictive paper, shadowing the tangerine sky, taking on my misery as some random guy walks by. I sit up straight, with debate, and imagine your dead eyes. on I look into the sky, and wish this was not mine. There is a lot I should have felt the need to say, and a lot I should have felt the need to do. But now I just plummet here alone, just thinking of what used to be you.

0

Jun 20, 2018

Jun 20, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC

jmel

At Margate

I sat out here on this bench you see. The day you decided to call. Sure, I thought- I’ll give her sweet misery, and let the phone ring on. Then I thought, oh wait a second- I need not hope, but love. Then I called you up- sweat down my neck, tracing down my broken body, until into a pool of dread it falls, Sweet cigarette lit between my lips- death tightly bound within its seductive folds. This addictive paper, shadowing the tangerine sky, taking on my misery as some random guy walks by. I sit up straight, with debate, and imagine your dead eyes. on I look into the sky, and wish this was not mine. There is a lot I should have felt the need to say, and a lot I should have felt the need to do. But now I just plummet here alone, just thinking of what used to be you.

26