"mateus" poems
GRANNY SHOCKS THE GRANDCHILDREN
me I always
wore a yellow pinafore dress
displaying my what-should-not-be-seen
or a Sgt. Pepper's jacket
serving as a dress...showing off
buttocks & knickers to great effect
moved from squat to squat
lived on hash and Mateus Rosé
sex?was just...eh...there
I had loads of lads
loads of lads had me
music and *** - the twin gods
forget "I wanna hold your hand"
we were Stones fans mannnnn
sang "Lets spend the night together"
I wanted to be Juliette Gréco
read/re-read THE STORY OF O
De Sade's 120 DAYS OF *****
?morals/
yeah!yeah!yeah!
whatever
we were all of us always
trying to find ourselves
or escape from ourselves
Granda was mad
bad and gorgeous to know
like straying off the path into
the forest of a fairy story
a **** scary beast
my very own big bad wolf
an Mmmmmmmm
kind of man
"Eat me...eat me!" I'd yell at him
*** was that...what
cheered up those forever
endless rainy British afternoon
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 4:22 PM UTC
The bowl filled with hot water,
the dishes and cutlery from lunch
await my attention;
*But back then
in the days of sixties summers the
beaches beckoned*
The glasses first
followed by the plates, careful not
to over-do the coarse green back
of the sponge on the china;
*And us
hand in hand in our rolled up jeans
strolling where the sea meets sand*
Knives followed by the forks followed
by the spoons and as I look out of the
window the martins fly to and fro
feeding their young;
*I can still hear the noise of gulls
and the whooshing of
waves as we ran sideways up the
pebbles trying to avoid getting soaked*
“Where are the clean tea towels” I ask
and you call out
“In the top draw on the right”
When I´ve finished this we´ll sit outside
with a glass of red;
Funny how our taste changes over the years,
*in those days of sunshine
and sand in toes it would have been
Blue Nun or Mateus Rose
and the washing up
was probable the last thing on our minds*...
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 10:02 AM UTC
An empty bottle of Mateus couldn’t help me drown my sorrow.
It cannot bring you back to me, and I’ll pay for this tomorrow.
All it has done is render me numb to your parting words and kiss;
a kiss goodbye, no public scene, no angry emphasis.
I had lost at Love before, yet something about today.
I think the finality of it all, drove me to this plebeian rose’.
When the love of your life has walked out of your life
What remains then to do or to say?
I will live work and sleep, pay my debts, keep my peace,
And still love you when I’m old and grey.
Aug 14, 2015
Aug 14, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC