"nothen" poems
Hello Pop,
You said you liked a good story.
I'm no good at tellen stories, coz you were always the one that told'em and I was always the one that listened but,
I got one now.
Not a nice one.
None'a that feel good **** you see on TV.
But, it's a story
and I owe you one.
It's about you,
the bits you missed,
and me:
the not so good for a so called 'good kid'.
Not that many called me that
But,
then you went and did.
Made me think I couldn't be so bad.
Yet here I am.
Throwin stone's when I've got no one to hit.
Too bored to eat or sleep, just fucken spit.
Wishen that great god gave me someone to hit.
I'm a sick girl, ya know.
That's what they tell me.
Sick compared to those straight kids -
the pride of Glory Spring.
"Glory to God!" they all fucken sing
and even me who can’t speak good
can still recite that invisible,
unbearable
ditsy
dimpled
****
He was your favourite story and everyone elses, after all.
Vicar Roy made sure of that.
Vicar Roy.
With his crinkly eyes
his toothy grin
the way he wouldn't blink when you challenged him.
God while god was hiding from the mess he made,
but God was doin’ nothen for me.
Ma saw that before you could.
She wanted me out,
She wanted me taken to a real city so they could study my head,
the way it worked.
The way my words never came
just a crooked grin.
But, even when the crayons became weapons
and the kittens went missen
The Vicar went and blessed me the same way.
Glory Spring, with its neat little rows of cottages and cabbage gardens,
so evenly cut.
Soft colours,
bright greens.
So good,
good,
good.
Then I came along.
Rabid,
urban wild
itchen for a stomach slit
goin' "Guts for you"
after "Treat or trick?"
setten haystacks on fire
tryen to find the pin
only to drop it on purpose.
Are you scared of me, Pa?
I think even God is scared of what he created.
That's why we never see him,
but I'm here now Pa.
You can't hide from me
and I gotta story of why you don't gotta no more.
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 2:59 AM UTC
( Thinking of time gone by )
Watchen water washen stones
Watchen sunlight bleachen bones~
Wasten time thats wasten me
Waiten for a love thats never free~
Waiten for rain that never falls
Watchen the phone , nobody calls~
Counten stars that fall from so high
Liven life untill I die~
Getten older by the day
Nothen seems to go my way~
Doen all I felt was right
And here I am still alone tonight~
Twas long ago when I knew you
Since that time Ive been so blue~
But life goes on all about
And here I sit alone with lights turned out~
Somethens wrong with me I know
How come I still love you so~
Guess your happy and here I wait
But I ll never see your form at my gate~
Watchen water washen stones
Watchen sunlight bleachen bones~
Wasten time thats wasten me
Waiten for a love that never free~.
Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright 2018
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 1:44 AM UTC
in
THE TRAVELING LIFELONG BUSH POET
SHE WAS MY MOTHER ( and yes I loved her dearly )
She Was ... MY MOTHER
A woman I once Knew ..
A woman of multiple personalities ..
She was the best of the best
And the worst of the worst~
She traveled all over
And quenched every thirst~
When somethen was over
She d move on agen~
And only return
When and if she got the yen~
She d say what she thought
And nomatter to whom~
One could never miss her
Even in a crowded room~
She d do as she pleased
And no matter what~
She was always herself
If they liked it or not~
Full of surprises
And one could never guess~
What wonderful things
She d make out of a mess~
When one thought they had her
They never had her at all~
Come rain or come shine
She always had a ball~
She lived her life to the limit
Come day or come night~
And when she made a statement
She was usually right~
She could dance she could love
She could see in the dark~
One vibrant woman
Who was always a spark~
She left no stone unturned
Missed nothen at all~
Nomatter who ever downed her
She always stood tall~
Everyone loved her so
And they hated her too~
That was everyone she met
And that was more than a few~
She spread so much laughter
And thrived on pure hell~
Nobody ever forgot her
They all knew her too well~
She could take anything on
And just as easy throw it away~
And go on regardless and
Live well another day~
She was all that she said she was
So she d say with pride~
She could welcome you home
And just as easy cast you aside~
There was more to this woman
Than anyone ever knew~
She could tell you a lie
And prove it was true~
She d play out a fantassy
And make it become real~
She had her own charisma
Never ever hid how she d feel~
She could sing like an angel
And then steal your heart~
and once she had gotten it
She d rip it apart~
Nobody ever owned her
She was her own soul~
She could act like a child
Or a woman so very old~
In her life she lived several lifetimes
And lived them all well~
She had her own brand of religion
And rang her own bell~
Everyone that knew her
They never ever knew why~
She could make so very happy
And then give you reason to cry~
( BUT I LOVED HER )
Terrence Michael Sutton
copyright 1988.
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC