"polythene" poems
*"mary mary quite contrary
how does your garden grow
with silver bells and cockle shells
and pretty maids all in a row”*
homecoming queen
ballgown made of polythene
they always said in trash bags
you could still look haute couture
leave em wanting more
now, the only thing i’m sure of
is laura, laura, laura in the ground
nothing but her aura and a lily spattered mound
remains, it pains me to concede
that she’ll be eaten up by ghost ****
by the time she turns 18
she’ll still be homecoming queen
below my lungs and all the earth
she will be crowned
laura in the ground
angel dusted lips of blue
and eyes of lapis lazuli
all the water in the river
couldnt fill the chasm
this microcosmic monster ****** bone dry
cause the only thing i’m sure of
is laura, laura, laura in the ground
nothing but her aura and a lily spattered mound
remains, it pains me to concede
that she’ll be eaten up by ghost ****
by the time she turns 18
she’ll still be homecoming queen
below my lungs and all the earth
she will be crowned
laura in the ground
even her jewellery is broken hearted
all cut up like lines of cheap *******
it feels like all the world is utterly uncharted
with you gone i am lost in fog
you’re planted in my brain
oh, laura, laura, laura in the ground
nothing but her aura and a lily spattered mound
remains, it pains me to concede
that she’ll be eaten up by ghost ****
by the time she turns 18
she’ll still be homecoming queen
below my lungs and all the earth
she will be crowned
laura in the ground
oh laura, laura, laura palmer
golden girl, enchanted charmer
you will still be crowned
laura, lovely laura palmer
you’ve got a date with the embalmer
and afterwards there’s coffee in the ground
i promise, doll, i swear
you’ve nothing, no one left to fear
you’re all walled in and safe, my dear
my darling laura, laura in the ground
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Dear Prudence, Julia, Michelle, Mr. Moonlight, Eleanor Rigby, Dizzy Miss Lizzy, Lady Madonna, Lovely Rita, Rocky Racoon, Lucille, **** Sadie, Clarabella, Her Majesty, Nowhere Man, Penny Lane, Carol, Long Tall Sally, Maggie Mae, Johnny B. Goode, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, Moonlight Boy, Martha My Dear,
You Like Me Too Much. It’s All Too Much. I’m So Tired. The Night Before Yesterday Memphis, Tennessee, I Saw Her Standing There. Polythene Pam.
Not A Second Time She Said She Said “Hey Bulldog. I Want To Hold Your Hand. Why Don’t We Do It In The Road. Here, There and Everywhere. Something.”
I Want To Tell You I Should Have Known Better. “Wait. Slow Down. I Just Don’t Understand. Tell Me Why.”
“Because I’m Down. I’m Happy Just To Dance With You. Hold Me Tight”
“I’ll Be On My Way”
“Please Please Me”
“Get Back. Help!”
And I Love Her
All My Loving,
Mean Mr. Mustard
P.S I Love You
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 12:58 AM UTC
Flap, flap two black wings staggered
On two yellow clawed feet after stormy
Weather and the tufts of cats fur left
Like a white collar on emerald green.
Inside the cardboard box with soft lining
And scraps of bread, cheese and water
On a little polythene transparent oblong
There was chirping to be heard from within.
On varnish floor he skids and skates about
Putting newspaper down his legs got strong
After a few days of feeding he began to fly
Just a little spinning around the front room.
Bright eyed with yellow beak eating worms
He was nearly ready to be allowed outside
To find his strength and freedom with others
Tearily he was carried to park and released.
A few days later , looking in our garden tree
We saw him sitting on a leafy branch chirping
And singing a thank you song of gratitude for
A life he may never have lived without our help.
Love Mary ***
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
what's there to write about
a floor scrubber?
in the sun on my shoulder
its light plastic touch
polythene wrapper
gaily fluttering in the wind
breathing its last light of freedom
before consigned to lifelong prison
standing damp dreaming to dry
but for that fleeting time
it rests on my shoulder
comforted on flesh and bone
on the brief journey
from the shop to a nook
enjoying the glances of passerby
curious my carrying it
a hint of boast in my gait
flaunting as if a magic wand
the floor scrubber transient yet eternal
a glorious poem material
a poem name
and a man's declaration
*there's no shame
doing your work
your way*.
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
Beatle Bomb
I should have known better, but if I fell, can you tell me why?
I'm happy just to dance with you, anytime at all,
you can't do that, if you love me do,
I want to hold your hand, and your bird can sing too,
said you was a taxman, it was a hard days night,
you can drive my car, but you wont see me,
I'm looking through you, but you're nowhere man,
had a ticket to ride, eight days a week,
it was only yesterday, when I met the day tripper,
we can work it out, with the paperback writer,
we called Eleanor Rigby and Penny Lane,
and now it's getting better, with a little help from my friends,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
I was living in a glass onion with Dear Prudence,
I said help! Lady Maddona, won't you just let it be,
Martha my dear, took her Blackbird and Piggies
while Rocky Racoon and Bungalow Bill found something to ****
Julia and **** Sadie had honey pie for their birthday
while there was a revolution back in the U.S.S.R
it was helter skelter but everybody's got something to hide
but I'm getting better, fixing a hole, using Maxwell's silver hammer
and mean Mr Mustard was chasing Polythene Pam
so she came in through the bathroom window
guess it is time to just Let it be
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
You say “Helllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo”
I say “Goodbye”,
Gomer LePoet...
Jul 26, 2013
Jul 26, 2013 at 1:24 PM UTC
Lucid, luminous and lingering,
A crystal Polythene bag prances
Through the unborn air.
It contorts and convulses;
A perpetual struggle.
The Earth's Wild breath plucks
The entity away from its playful frolic
In a daring
******
Altering the direction of odd exertion.
Entwining leaves round itself,
In a last hope of disguise.
Impenetrable hands
Catch
The gliding bag,
Propelling into the abyss.
Potent forces drag it further still,
Squirming like a forgotten child
Pleading
Yearning, to gain control.
Demanding gales ******
Choking the plastic vessel.
It gasps for air.
A fish awaiting its final breath.
Sailing the tumultuous breeze
Dismembered and
Swamped in the swarm,
Its handles now shattered.
A synthetic snow shower falls.
The bag is wrenched
Through the unforgiving sky,
Tumbling, abandoned.
It twists, spiralling,
Swamped in the ritual,
This new course of life.
The consumer controls,
Cash flashing in every corner,
Every crevice, no deviation.
It tears the gorge of the atmosphere
Knows nothing else,
A lone being,
Dragged around
Down to the dust of Earth.
Powerless in a turbulent tempest
The torment of growth.
This polythene material,
Diverged from being branded,
Swirling,
Becomes close,
With every violent fluctuation.
There is nothing inside this bag anymore;
Contents cannot aid its weakness.
When I was five years old,
I cut all my eyelashes off
In hope to gain more wishes.
Each member a companion to my eyes,
Longing to soar...
But fell to the ground.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
Out in the backyard where I discarded the old bard..
..I take a moment to think.
This is not the first time I've been on the brink of a change and maybe it won't be the last.
But I have put what is past into a polythene sack..
..let the archaeologist of the future rummage through that.
If this change is a bust..then so be it..I must..
..change the change that I'm making..
And change is there for the taking..it's free.
This is the way that I want it to be.
If it's not done today..the change will not go away..
..It will wait in abeyance.
A conveyance for me when I am finally ready.
I'm still out in the backyard with the remains of the old bard.
Finding it so hard to leave things behind.
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 1:38 PM UTC
She's a new born under
protective cover,
with a shield like no other from her
umbilical Mother.
Covered from head to toe by the
artists jacket.
In clear polythene for you to admire,
not attack it.
Or the mobster paid in Lira to stop
anyone going near her,
when all that she needs
is the unconditional love
from the bosum that
feeds her.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
I remember your scent,
In the Gold Star hotel,
Abbey road on the record player,
I fell in love with you, through that album,
I love it nearly half as much as I do you,
Which is far more than I love myself.
I still have a copy in vinyl,
But the original warped, and wouldn't play right anymore,
I find myself listening to I want you (She's so heavy)
And I can almost feel your touch in the bass line,
Your lips in the lead guitar, your body in the drumbeat.
We come together in my mind,
And I become old flattop,
And there is Something about you,
My mind will always return to,
Until The End,
When golden slumbers fill my eyes.
Oh, Darling!
Protect me with your silver spoon,
I want to be with you under the sea.
I see no future, can't pay no rent.
Don't be quizzical Joan,
My hammer is poised,
And I shaved in the dark,
Because I don't make enough paper,
At the polythene factory.
I see you rise in my mind,
Like the sun comes,
And I become the Sun King,
And admire Her Majesty.
Don't **** your thumb and wonder.
Because,
I love you still.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 6:33 AM UTC
All the trees with polythene leaves like ghosties trapped in branches.
Dancing drunk with headphones on//& you are the taste in my mouth.
My only ambition is to one day, some how, if only for a moment, be completely angelic.
I dreamt that my eye lids were reflective thoughts on the balcony.
I guess it just boils down to one final rule - EVERYBODY HAS GOT TO **** SOMETHING.
Walking home with Satchmo.
It’s never too late, fall down the stairs.
If I had a car I wouldn’t have to pay rent.
The lights on the buildings shut off when they see me coming.
Walk by the river until there’s blood in my shoes.
You dress like a jumble sale & hide your teeth when you smile.
Two left feet & two right shoes.
Go outside. Drink if you want to - (HM).
May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 6:50 PM UTC
Turritopsis dohrnii: A species of jellyfish that can revert back
To a sexually immature state when its injured or dying, making it biologically immortal.
A jellyfish,
Nothing but thickened water
Some genetic material
Polythene bags and paper glue,
Is granted immortality.
We, humans
The heirs of a billion evolutions,
A million grains of life,
Crumble like sand castles
Scatter like sawdust.
The universe taunts,
Laugh until your shadow swallows you
Your every breath was a thousand last breaths,
Puny mortal.
**
Jan 12, 2021
Jan 12, 2021 at 5:43 AM UTC
You being away make me think
I ponder far too wide
If for once I will make to you
I thought of calling you
I bought enough credit for us to speak
But unfortunately you had no phone.
I wrote a letter for you
I wrapped it well in an expensive envelope
I wrote your name on top of it
For real love I felt.
I was to send you,but I had no address
I thought for a whole day
I decided to drop to the air
For the wind to bring it to you
It fall back to me,it was a calmed day
I duplicated the piece
I believe you will get them all
One I tied to a dove
And I gave it instructions ,
Perhaps you got that one
I dropped one in the fast flowing R Nile
After wrapping it in a polythene
For in water it be save
Believe me,fetch it with water.
I burned another one to ashes
And blew it in four cardinal directions
And believe me,
Sincerely I hope you got my message
For in love crazy I do
Insanely I behave
But
My medicine is yours love
Nothing more.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
I make my bed
thoughts of being homeless
rising in my head
but on the cardboard underneath
the polythene
I can dream of being a King,
not of the road but of a realm,
at the helm
of my ship.
The captain trapped in
circumstance.
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
Shall we step outside for a swim
in this ocean of artificial light?
Aren’t the lamppost legions lining the streets
the bioluminescence of the night?
Shall we take a stroll through the gardens,
through the forest of wire and twisted metal,
and admire how the cool autumn winds
waltz with these polythene petals?
The old and the new are already married,
Tied to the mast of time’s great voyager.
And beneath their most brilliant disguise
Lies the truest and most perfect reflection.
What does it matter in the sagas and songs
If now there’s a tower where once a tree stood?
A tree is nothing but a pillar of bark
Their lofty branches, girders of wood.
The grey and the green, the towers and trees,
Former is shunned, yet the latter is lost.
Hemlock and arsenic both send you down
And of granite and concrete, are either so soft?
Time marches on and leaves no-one behind.
It’s the ceaseless march of all of mankind.
If the end seems impending, and the path draped in black
To the darkness you go, there is no turning back.
This pilgrimage is a bitter prescription
And our sour rejection is sorely reflected
that legacies past are lauded and loved
While modernity’s beauty lies cold and neglected.
On the railway tracks we are hurtling down
Laid each day by the hands of history
We cannot turn back or regret our mistakes
Or the careless advances we were perceived to make.
While we grasp at the memories, and skeletal remains,
With our rueful yearning that's becoming so desperate
The fact remains, ‘till the end of our days
There's no better, or worse, there is only different.
There is no behind, there is only beyond.
The passing of past lays the road for the new.
Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 4:52 AM UTC
I live in a cracked land with glowing light
all around me as I hold my tools
with hands of broken polystyrene.
This is a world I can live in no longer,
where plants used to grow and the earth
was once rich with fertility. Now it is barren,
with death and decay spreading from where my body
meets the earth. I will never feel the soft
grass beneath my feet again - on impact,
I **** all life. Beauty is destroyed
and everything placed in my hands crumbles
and withers away into nothing. This
was once a place of wealth and plenty, where love
flew through the air and played like swallows
swooping and swerving
their way to freedom, but now
love has been forced into small, sealed boxes
stowed away in some decaying corner
of my heart. I still feel the way your hands
left burning trails across my skin,
the way it felt to see you looking
down into my eyes, but none of this
is alive. The way your eyes shone
is locked in a cage and is shattering
faster and faster with every desperate
touch from my plastic fingertips.
There is nothing here except the stretch
of polythene covering my mouth and restraining
my lungs, my screams.
Help me, my love.
The light is leaving my eyes.
Aug 10, 2017
Aug 10, 2017 at 11:47 AM UTC
*Just got down
to walk
a strong wind blowing
an ecstasy!!
Seeing
all thin polythene bags
are dancing in circle
like Sufi...
all dead leaves started
walking with celebrations
as if
they got second life
tree around are like clapping
the performance of nature!!
a bliss to walk in between...*
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 12:01 PM UTC
A masked politician
comes
with a pack of food
in his gloved hands
for an elderly
squatting
on his fleshless legs;
his overgrown beard
and shaggy hair
infested with perhaps
millions of corona,
outside a broken hut
of a black polythene,
in outskirts
of this silenced city of past noise.
in that deserted garden;
where some caged plants
stood green.
AND
the super creation
mechanically
Wrapped in
web of domains
cissing and crossing
unbridled
gaming foul,
claimed
the global village
interconnected
"no distances"
.....
for "physical distancing"
today,
Of course! today.
distanced
from a twitter
of a bird;
yet
huddled
in a dis-infected room
reading
'Stay Home'
Self- isolate
quarantine
for period of
a half moon circle,
stopping this virulent
the tiniest stain of
Covid-19,
on his twitter account.
AND
In the dark of pandemic
light of candles,
as Indian saints say
Of countlessly nine
Those beats of utensils
Rythmically fine
Alas! That
Destructive closeness
In a disguise,
Distanced
The hope
Which the cruel hands
Of politics
Snatched.
the birds are
Flabbergasted,
And animals
Saddened,
Yet
Scared
Lest their own
Existence
Suffers
And evolution
sets a new era!
Narinder
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 10:18 PM UTC
1.
In Springtime I recall the lilacs sweet scented
Growing up the right hand fence at the bottom,
Of a rather overgrown and swayward garden.
Each flower part of a composite bloom, opening slowly its tiny
Trumpet like stamens from where the bees suckled
Filling their back legs with yellow powdered nectar
Which made honey for sandwiches at teatime.
2.
On my way to infant’s school I would clasp
Handfuls of sweet cherry blossom petals
The tips of each petal turning brown in the sun
My shoes covered as I kicked heaps of this candy floss
Pink tissue paper along the road as I thought about school
And the day ahead, in my brown Clark’s leather sandals.
3.
The smell of the scrapings of new potatoes floating
In tap water in a blue polythene bowl in our scullery
And on my mother’s cracked, dry and sore hands
Ingrained with the dirt from compost and soil.
I loved these hands rough yet gentle to stroke a face.
Love Mary September 12 /201
Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 11:49 AM UTC
After getting up
in river bed
a green four squared
paper-kite was
constantly dancing like a
child dancer.
Sky's blue color
could not gallop
its color.
It could not create
shadow.
The winter sun was
opposite of it.
Slowly it get down
surface.
Oh.......sit.....
this is a polythene kite
which was shinning.
after its arrival from air
to land
the small birds again
seen in its flying area.
Oh......it is clear that
the plastic thread
can **** their body or
can harm the wings.
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 8:25 AM UTC
My old girlfriend
of computer
learning centre
was a polythene
cover.
A polythene cover
were giving
mental torture.
It was
behaving like that.
One night i
left it
on a road side
by shocking it.
She and that
could have
been gotten
new partner.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 9:03 AM UTC