"poppins" poems
If there are infinite worlds,
there must be one where umbrellas never close-
hinges locked open like stubborn jaws,
gape-mouthed against walls in patient herds.
No one in their twenties owns one,
their hamster-cage apartments
too small for such luxuries.
They ask for rain jackets on birthdays.
Mary Poppins still drifts down Cherry Tree Lane,
her umbrella never folding,
only floating.
Children carry slips home
for violating umbrella laws,
forging signatures in loopy ink.
The Morton Salt girl wears a slicker,
yellow as a warning flare before the flood.
My mother walking me to kindergarten in rain,
transparent vinyl dome above our heads-
I, the opposite of a fish in its tank.
Her hair plastered to her forehead
by the time we reached the door.
Everyone looks most beautiful
with rainwater running down their face.
In the open-umbrella reality,
time can walk backward-
you can unwater a plant,
unpeel a clementine,
un-kiss someone.
Endings lift again,
fabric billowing, as if the story
had been left open in the wind.
Heather and Mike find the road out.
Rosemary tips the bassinet.
There, perhaps, neither of us was born.
What lay between us
stays open too long,
collecting rain until it sags,
slow and certain, like sugar
in the first storm.
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
It was a rainy night. He took out his umbrella, opened it, and it soon engulfed the both of us. "Hey, you're getting wet," he said. He pulled me closer to him, his arms like the umbrella protecting me, protecting us from the drizzle.
I snapped out of my daydream to find him weirdly staring at me, and asked him, "What, do I have something on my face?"
"No, it's just... why are you staring into space?"
Our footsteps made little splashes, puddles reflected a thousand images of us. These pictures from nature will not last for a lifetime but the rain was our witness, as if the skies were crying at a matrimonial ceremony.
I took a step away from him to let the memory of him soak in me. He stands there in the rain innocently, with umbrella in hand, waiting for me to respond. Breathing out, I told him: "Ask me what I think of you right now."
"Wait, what? Are we going to play a game?" That usual what-is-going-on look still stupidly plastered on his angelic face. "Well, what do you think of me right now, then?"
I didn't hesitate and the first word that automatically left my lips were 'umbrella'.
"Umbrella? Do I look that thin to you, really?" He said dryly as he gave me an uninspired look. He shook his head in disbelief and pouted. "And I thought you'd relate me at least to the rain."
"Umbrella: definition for a protecting force or influence," I told him as I stood in place. I side-glanced at him to find a spark lighted up in his eyes as his shoulders loosened. "You're my umbrella because I need you in rainy days and sunny ones. Literally because of your stature to block the sun or cover me when it rains," I laughed. "And it's not because you're thin like one, silly. But how you comfortingly stretch out your arms to me when it's a bad day for me. How you guard me from others' icy remarks. It feels like a need to have you around wherever I go."
He cleared his throat jokingly and added, "Might I say I also take you high like Mary Poppins' umbrella." He burst out laughing as I glared at him for his poorly done innuendo.
But right there and then as I rolled my eyes at him, he dropped the umbrella, grabbed me by my waist and kissed me as light as the raindrops kissing our skin. He broke off after a while and said, "Getting wet, are we?"
Before I could claw at him for his second pun, he released me as I chased him down, not caring if I would get a fever later. But sometimes I just wonder how did I come to like, fall in love, and love him-- basically feel every emotion with him. In all truth, he wasn't just my umbrella, but also my home whom I'll always return to at the end of all my days. Umbrella or home, he is my shelter.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
I asked the question but may never know
But let’s give it a go
I ask the question again, how does Mary Poppins angle her umbrella?
It seems precise
Maybe Magic is the advice
It seems the winds are always in Mary Poppins favor
But too some of use with ordinary conventional umbrella’s that’s hard to savor
Mary Poppins seems to just glide through the air and her umbrella stays in tact
Actually, could be more than fact
With these so called conventional umbrella’s, people would be lucky if our umbrella’s didn’t turn inside out and became stems of its former self
But Mary Poppins umbrella is not like everybody else
When a breeze comes along, the ordinary conventional umbrellas simply bend
What was an umbrella always comes to an end
They just can’t seem to take the wind
I guess Mary Poppins can
Magic controls the umbrella on when
But we really don’t know how Mary Poppins umbrella stays straight
However, it’s Mary Poppins story of fate
Yet that is something only Mary Poppins can appreciate
As for us ordinary people can associate
It’s definitely a magical thing
The Mary Poppins name having a bling
She’s like a Queen who masters her own sling.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
~
I.
*Killing Mary Poppins
with a spoonful of sugar,
the sugar from the medicine
on the other side of town,
the town called Silent Hedges
And A Bit Of Fluff.*
II.
*Only a display model,
her name is Marmalade;
skin white like the moon,
she wears her ****** stranger dress;
one of her sisters is dying,
the other never lived;
God is a far off concept,
the fuchsia colored ball on
an overhead power grid
points her way to salvation.*
III.
*Morning became something else:
bright decline,
cold things start to burn,
tragic saxophone
among the beckoning,
everything's a symptom:
tax exiles, imperialists,
girls talking nitrous
--mouths full of soil,
Virginia Reel around the fountain
(do-si-do),
ready to buy up impossibles
as the dominoes fall.*
IV.
*Memory is a chemical
to the girl who cried champagne,
like ceiling stars
during the prodigal summer,
she played the game
on all fours,
and found a drawer
full of quarantine polaroids,
some with blood in her mouth,
others, of rain on her birthday.*
~
Mar 4, 2024
Mar 4, 2024 at 4:13 PM UTC
The long white curtain is still hanging on. The baby still
sleeping somewhere in all of that. I don’t mind
a thing. I don’t mind at all. See how slow and good
it can be? He says and points to my gizzard. The one he
insists upon me having. The same one I have given up insisting I don’t.
I’m addicted to the pith and gaff of his arguments,
how stalwartly he rows them down the narrow
passage of our trying not to hurry banter. I curl into the slow
lilt of how he doesn’t mind strolling around inside of promises,
like Burt showing Mary Poppins another chalk Paris. Look! A
riverboat! Lights and parasols. Pretty lovers laughing on the prow.
We’re both still wearing your T-shirt
inside the stewpot dreaming we do between sex. Aprons
and porches, babies and waterfalls.
The kinds of props you bandit from other people’s dreams.
Shorthand for lovers, with an hour to prove they exist.
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 7:12 AM UTC
You step outside of the moment like a misty window bystander with your hood up and your hand warmers that you’ll put in your scrapbook so as to bless and keep this memory all your days.
Sift out the sound waves as you watch the dancing silhouettes of the good old days
Bringing tears to your eyes as you remember that someday this’ll be in a box wrapped and taped scotch-like for you to look at and think how lucky we were.
But right now you’re pulling all your best strings to carve out scrawled negatives on the glass before the condensation of your breath fades fades away.
Oh doesn’t it remind you, dear,
That we live in the awareness of fleeting moments rather than the moments themselves?
That we only put the remaining numbers of seconds on our dance cards and not let our time with fullness instead take our hands and waists?
That we scrounge for the film that we can Mary Poppins jump into on the other end of a short while instead of running the risk of forgetting by ripping open the gift of the instant we have been personally given by God?
Don’t let it pass you by because
Even though it’s only out the train window if you
Let it permeate your heart forever that’s the
Only way you can keep it in your pocket during your walk towards eternity.
Dec 11, 2021
Dec 11, 2021 at 6:07 PM UTC
first musical memory
playing Mary Poppins
over and over on my portable suitcase
phonograph
not convinced that
a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
went over to my friends house
to play Barbies
heard B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets
on her record player
began my life long
love of rock music
grew up attending a Southern Baptist church
if my faith continues to evolve in and out of specific creeds and dogmatic beliefs
right arm will never fail to involuntarily rise
towards the Heavens
whenever i hear
How Great Thou Art being sung
parents were in their late 30's
by the time i was born
was exposed to big band music
show tunes
mom's favorite
French operatic singer Edith Piaf
Riverview Elementary
in music class
taught how to do The Hustle and The Bus Stop
to disco records
got to bring in
on Fridays
love of guys with
long hair
blame
on the big hair
bands
the 80's
the 90's
such a kinship to the dark depressing sounds of grunge
believed Scott Weiland
Kurt Cobain and
Jerry Cantrell
plagiarized my thoughts
mad or need to clean
my house
the 2 often go
hand in hand
heavy/nu metal blaring
at maximum volume
Currently
am at a crossroads
need of direction
helps me to undergo the deep soul searching
inecessary
major life changes are required
give myself vehicular therapy,
driving around Wilson Lake
symphonic classical sounds from the radio
surprisingly
maybe not
blaring
maximum
volume
brainstorming
my options
to the
music
overheard
ppl say
they wished that
their life
came with
a soundtrack
Mine does.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 6:07 AM UTC
Judy Judy Kansas cutie / it starts in the heartland / Tornado = social change through manipulated crisis / Toto the only free agent / Dorothy struck on her head by the closing window of virtual possibility / She realizes that hope'n'change have reached the prairie / Alice in Wonderland Hollywood / Kansas as futurist narrative / Star Wars pre-dated / It's a Wonderful Mythic Life / Miss Gulch as Henry Potter / Witchery in bitchery: Hillary 2016 / Scarecrow as Celtic bog-sacrifice victim / Tinman as ****** therapy client / Did that hurt? No - it felt wonderful ! / Bible-belt Pentecostal subtexts: "the anointing" / obsolete leonine monarchies / Louis Quatorze the Sun King / enlightenment through concussion / the tyrant must be resisted from the heartland / populist progressives plot stealthily to justify their rule through the wizardry of science / the tyrant utilizes tech to manipulate the credulous / green state fascism / journey out of ontic inevitability into the futurist nightmare / eco-mammon bailouts / infantile mental midgets ruled by witch-tyrants = One World Munchkinland / Dorothy as redeemer-Messiah / Dorothy as Mary Poppins / America exports populist prophecy to the greater world / Glinda the Matriarch-Goddess / Glinda as transcendent Wisdom / the Anti-witch antidote / Patriarchy creates "special effects" subterfuge / flying monkeys: shock-troops of the witch / simian social justice warriors / Obama as Witch of West AND Wizard simultaneously / flying monkeys: brown-shirt armies of new multi-culti order / George W. Bush was the the witch the house ("Hope & Change') fell on / Over the Rainbow: somewhere beyond ****** identity grievance-mongering / There's no place like the Restoration of All Things
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 5:49 PM UTC
She didn't know when Mary Poppins flew in
She didn't know the world was falling down
didn't know the roof was caving in
and the walls leaked
and the floor creaked
the first stair was gone
She didn't know Mary Poppins was hers
She didn't know Mary was her mother's
didn't know Mary was her grandmother's
and she didn't know Mary
and Mary is hers
Mary is mine too
She didn't know Mary Poppins meant the end
She didn't know Mary meant one less
didn't know Mary wasn't real
and Mary couldn't fix all this
and Mary would go away
mothers could too
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 3:29 AM UTC
Waves from the beach match my waves for my drink
The waitress comes over and asks what’s my order
I said I can’t choose “I’m feeling like there’s clouds above me,
It’s been a rough few days and these double hotel rooms are bland and lonely.”
“Not a problem, sir. I know just what to get to make you feel *****
She comes back with a Hawaiian margarita.
It came with an umbrella which I set aside while saying thank you, Senorita.
I guzzled down the drink to reach the tequila faster,
But the wind picks up and it looks like a disaster.
I ask for one more, with the umbrella.
This fairy godmother returns with another margarita.
The buzz has transformed me like I’m Cinderella.
I leave a 20 at the table and walk towards the beach, ignoring the families with kids who all they do is screech.
Clutching both umbrellas, I walk to the shore
One of God’s many gifts for us to explore.
I never noticed how nice he made the decore.
Tequila is the only alcohol that’s an upper, or so I’ve been told.
But I enter the water even though it was cold
What happened next though was a story previously told,
My umbrellas caught air like Mary Poppins,
As I floated along the coast listening to Phil Collins.
The speakers down below blast the drum section from that one song,
And I stayed up there for I don’t know how long,
But when I descended,
My pain was suspended and my emotions were splendid.
So next time, when your mind feels cloudy and your thoughts are rowdy
Ask for a drink with an umbrella
You’ll soon find yourself smiling, cheesing more than mozzarella.
Sep 18, 2023
Sep 18, 2023 at 10:29 PM UTC
do you sense a shift
corner turn
wind bring
mary poppins
from north ancestral lands
sky-blue signals
perfect blue
blue of whale
blue in the eyes of the newborn
blue of the revolution
this morning
half moon
over the mountain
south of the peak
three clouds
thinning to two
over sedona red rock
one o so tiny cloud
has near disappeared
to blue signals
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 1:16 PM UTC
Su-per-cal-i-fra-
-gi-lis-tic-ex-pi-a-li-
-do-cious. **** that's long.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
Talk to me, talk to me of Old St. Nick
Talk to me of Sinterclaus
Of Mikulas, Pere Noel, or Babbo Natale
Talk to me of candles, christingle and a silent night
Talk to me of crackers, carols and calamities
Talk to me of snow, sleighs, and stars
Talk to me of Christmas cards, wrapping paper
Talk to me of gold, old spice and mice
Talk to me of icing, icicles
igloos, ivy
Holly
Oh sweet Hollie
Tots of Drambuie
Marmalade and toast
Talk to me of Philip Scholfield
Carols From Kings
Mary Poppins
Scrooge
Festive films
Radio Times
And things that are too pretty
Lights, nights
Hark, Dark
barking dogs
tinsel
Tinsel Town
Wolves at the door
Salvation Army playing once more
Talk to me
Talk to me
Cream Crackers, cheese
Frosty mornings, old knees
Talk to me of snow covered alpine forests
Gateaux
Cherries
walnuts and berries
Festive fun,
A seasonal run
Of All Gold telly
With a full belly
Farts, sprouts
Turkey that tastes just like chicken
Oh talk to me of
Terry Wogan
Rosh Jogan
Grogan Josh
Last minute deals
Black Friday
White Friday
And all the Cyber Mondays
Talk to me of
Happy Mondays
Dancing Bez
In a Festive Fez
Talk to me
Talk to me
Of Festive time
Late nights
Early mornings
Beer
Cheer
All in entertainment
Oh talk, TALK to me
Of hangovers,
sleep overs
gloves
mittens
and cute kittens
Oh talk to me of
fake Chanel
Faux Fur and underwear
Celvin Klein
Talk to me , Talk to me of
Jonah Lewie
Bony M
The Pogues
and all those rogues
Fairy tale of New York
Stop the Cavalry
Mary's Boy Child
And the
Spaceman who came riding by
Oh talk, Talk , Talk to me
of places, and spaces We all know
Christmas markets
Tesco, Aldi and John Lewis Adverts showing
Christmas is coming
Christmas is coming
Christmas is coming
Chris
Oh talk to me
Oh talk to me of old St. Nick
Talk to me
Talk to me
Eggnog
Talk to me
Talk to me
Bah humbug
Talk to me
Talk to me
Happy Christmas
Dec 19, 2019
Dec 19, 2019 at 4:54 PM UTC
I ******* around with my hands behind my head
and there i saw you moulding hearts like bread
shittin bricks on a hot tin roof
i am the girl with a cheshire smile
come see me
stay a while
coy as a boy with a flower in his hand
i took your words and i made a stand
and i never thought i'd be hiding you there
peekin out from the covers of delight
throw me away, throw me to the night
and when you are lost and have nothing to say
come see me
come see me and stay
hold my hand and i will run far and wide
catch a ball thats 10 feet high
forget my name and i'll drive my car
touch me alone
i like you
fallin over broken bones like a stumble in the dark
and like a silent movie you made your mark
pirates ahoy - i jumped overboard and over the moon
now its come to the senses much too soon
and i broke a thousand times a thousand times the sand
much too much over a forgotten, barren land
sing me a song my dear, whispher in my ear
i held your hat and you held my tears
scrunched up slowly between your tail and bone
i am not me i am not my own
thoughts are drifting and now i'm away
come find me
come for another day
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 1:58 PM UTC
Loving you felt like putting my shoes on the wrong feet
In the way that I could still walk, but something felt off
Like I was just slightly out of balance
Loving you felt like waking up on the wrong side of the bed
In the way that every day would start with frustration
Like being alive was a challenge
Loving you felt like living alone
In the way that we could go hours without speaking
Like I had nearly forgotten you were there
Loving you felt like giving too much
In the way that I poured from a Mary Poppins cup
Like there was one last drop in the bottom somewhere
Loving you felt like an anxiety attack
In the way that air had been snatched from my lungs
Like I couldn't catch my breath
Loving you felt like killing myself
In the way that I would have died if it meant you loved me
Like Romeo and Juliet
Feb 17, 2022
Feb 17, 2022 at 2:23 PM UTC
Dorothy,
what are you doing there, behind the curtain where a Wizard waits,conjuring fates and certain only of the uncertainty as much as any Wizard can certainly be.
I see Dorothy in red slacks with sling backs and yellow hair,she doesn't know that I'm there,watching her,watching him,
I begin to sing the song,you know the one,and all hell breaks loose,she screams,'it's a dream,I'm home on the farm'
The Wizard says,'keep calm' and pushes the intruder alert,which I have to admit hurt,'the Wizard's a twerp' I cry out angrily,and Dorothy sees me,knees me in the green emerald halls,
Oh *****
I think and slink away.
What was I thinking of going and drinking with Wizards and Witches, and that little krap toto is chewing my britches and where were the stitches in time that I needed?
I fell through the pavement when I went a courting,sorting the girls from the boys that they went with and Poppins went with me to see if she could be my beau,but Mary's quite scary and I quite like Dorothy,and a spoonful of sugar does not do it for me.
The Scarecrow that I know is really quite bright,ask him for a light and he'll tell you,'don't smoke'
The tin man's a joker and never been a smoker,so him and the scarecrow are friends,
it ends with the lion as is usually the case when he growls like a ***** and I laugh in his face.
and I laugh at the Wizard, who turns me into a toad and off I go hopping down my yellow brick road.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 8:19 PM UTC
Mary Poppins
bags underneath my eyes
you've pulled out umbrellas
and towels
and cups
and bowls
trying to catch these
t
e
a
r
s
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
will you escape from the Witch in the land of OZ
Before joining the the fellowship in a quest for the RING
Or will you join Mary Poppins and jump through a chalk pavement picture
maybe you could jump in a DeLorean and go BACK TO THE FUTURE
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
The tip is welded sharply but the mind is much sharper mental scribbles are illustrated with the ink of a marker let's make it bolder let's make it much darker don't tell the doctor
but I think I'm sick, drenched flashbacks are flushed down in my minds sink I think clicks like clocks tick, my gears are offset so I change my axis
I'm in an out like a fine stitch when I write my eyes twitch then blur out my language, I speak words of the damaged
time is a motion picture that I am watching if I stick then I'm it like the clown so come around before your fears drop to the ground
we play with pop rocks to the sounds of the then, not the now
Never pretend to be a part of the crowd I'm a part of the wow
that **** is shocking
I'm up like an umbrella and Ms. Poppins.
speaking babble like in Islamic
leaking metal calls me bionic
I rather live in a cardboard box than in an office honest I'm twisted but more on it then off it
where have the lights gone? it's about to get cold quick, let me drop this ice bomb
my mind runs longer than Olympic marathons
I'm a flawed paragon
they ask me if am high
I say no it must be the cloud I'm on
That's right no wings needed
I'm an open flesh wound so this flow keeps bleeding
I will beat these words down till they scream mistreated
These words are missiles that **** for no reason
Now watch me aim into the air and shoot into your region.
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 11:23 PM UTC
Give me a pen paper in watch me **** the
Ink once it hits the sheets
Get it this style aint unique
So blink im shuttin' out brains
So ya even cant think
Im the devious dangerous poetic terrorist
So all others can bite the dust
Leave ya stiff as old pizza crust i cant even trust
My own gotdamn self my mind is light years ahead of the game
By the time the catch up all the see is the flames
No smokes but the **** i **** take notes
As i hit you with atomic bomb antedote most cant handle the pain i drop from my brain
Mental epilepsy got em going insane
Hits harder than ******* no shame
To keep my adversaries in pain
Face adversities everyday so im.using to get hate so **** what they say
Im diabolical superior intellectual
Beatin muthaphukkas so bad
They loose they own ******
Preference or agenda **** Propaganda
I stand ya and ill slam ya
In the gravel like a punch from the judges gavel
Milleniums of quotes travel in my mind as it speed
Give me this power thats all in my head
As i read
Out aloud brainstorms without a cloud
Palms filled with the worlds waters and lands
Wrappin up contraband even in Japan
I could make earthquakes wake
Because my lyrical content shakes n wakes
All the masses
Appear to me with ********
I shatter ya soul like broken glasses daily i take passes
From another dimension fools get stuck n detention when i mention
Lyrics rollin off the tip of tongue
Mental lynching
Brains pench clear the bench
Like professor x using his intellect to select
What he wants to control
Yosef is too bold to fold been to war
So i know scold
Politics ******* the mrs devil ****
Imma keep ****** off the media
Til.i touch my casktet drastic fantastic
Gun poppins
What ya see is what ya get
Not talkin dramatics im speakin automatic
Rifles let go as im spittin bullet holes in my foe
Leave em dizzy and wozzy got ya ****** body bubblin' like a jacuzzi dont lose me
When i start to go kick a flow that entice any evil
Dont need to be clarified of this
Dont ya know yosef be the poetic terrorist
Poetic terrorist !!!!
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 6:41 AM UTC
Warm toes, cream floating in the coffee
A sweet red apple encased in rich toffee.
Cheesy mashed potatoes and bangers
Cheeky whistles of the old clangers.
The comforting tune to Watch With Mother
The antics they get up to in Big Brother.
The two adorable children in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
The all time favourites that Mary Poppins sang.
Gob Stoppers that used to change colour in the mouth
The warmth of the sun as you travel south.
The cotton wool smoke in Camberwick Green
Rainbows with crushed apricot colours in-between.
Sunsets sunrises who could ask for more
A true gentleman opening the door.
All these things I would not mind doing twice
if not more because they are all things nice.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
The aroma is hot, people heaped together like the pooling of the water fountain as it sprays on the grass
People have set up lawn chairs
Mostly elderly people who have time to sit in the park
Flies wiggling around them
As they listen to a rock band that sways like perplexed grass and sings like the words don't matter and only the guitar, the absolute intricacy of the guitar, is heard
I notice
Ahead of me
an elderly lady
Brown hair cut into a blob on her head
Lipstick, floral dress
Skin that is starting to fold
She feels hungry and opens the cooler
To display a pre-bought sandwich and a plastic bag
She unzips the bag carefully and gingerly takes out a
crisp, pressed white napkin
Which she doesn't end up needing anyway
I can't help thinking that there is irony to this
How something as trivial as napkins can point back to generations before
When the lady was younger
She sat in the glimmering sun in the tall, waving grass
A young man sat beside her
They laid on the gingham
Together
As watermelon juice trickled down his chin
"Poor you!" she laughed. "I forgot to bring the napkins!"
The reality is, she didn't forget
There was no mess to be cleaned up
There was only youth speckled with love and you would be a fool to miss the opportunity when watermelon stuck frozen to his chin so that when you kissed him you could taste the lingering fruit
Years later
She's bouncing in the living room with her little girl
Brown ringlets, just like her
They're eating spaghetti
The kind that is doused in a crimson sauce so that when the strands wiggle on her chin it leaves a trail of red
"Poor you!" she laughs. "I didn't give you a napkin."
The reality is, she didn't forget
There was no mess to be cleaned up
There were only children speckled with love and you would be a fool to miss the memory of crusted spaghetti sauce and that dimpled smile with holes in her mouth
Years later
She thinks about the times when she forgot the napkins
Thinking she'll be practical this time she swipes a few
But she forgets the plastic bag
One day she remembers it but she forgets to close it
The surprise is a family of ants
Now
With the music fading and the air electric
She knows there is no mess to be cleaned up
But she brings out the plastic bag of napkins anyway
She holds on to the velvety scrap and breathes
It is the one connection to her past life
Someone spills something
Finally
"Poor you!" she laughs. "I forgot the napkins."
The reality is, she didn't forget
She hides them in her purse - that Mary Poppins of a possession
And smiles
Because she would be a fool to miss it
May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 8:53 AM UTC
it's the leaves that smell, sat there
like soggy cornflakes on the pavement.
we kick them up, they stick and stink
and loudly we love the scent, love the magic.
the air is drizzly and the sky is flat like the
soda we have in your rucksack, waiting.
no one else is around, and though the sky is pregnant
the clouds haven't given birth
so we keep the umbrella down, and maybe if we are lucky
we can be like Mary Poppins and fly away together
but no, the wind is lazy today, and our feet ache
but we twist, you scoop me up
my shoes muddy your jacket, you catch my hair in your zip
we fall to the damp ground
and as our breath meets before the kiss, the sky decides to open up
and we become drenched.
but it's okay, because that kiss warms away all the ice
and we sit with the cereal leaves, together, and the smell is nice.
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 9:27 AM UTC
It drives me mad
this tornado inside
vibrating my heart
palpitating my breaths
It dwindles my body
to a state of trance
within a trance
within a trance
My eyes close
my mouth smiles
have I truly gone mad?
A song plays
it's the soundtrack to my hazy daydreams
the ones that are so good
you could feel them again
you get light-headed
you get dizzy
oh day-dreams, little shots of sweet escapes
My eyes drift
beyond the obvious or even through them
wait, have I been drugged?
My body is feeble, the tornadoes
caused a mess, even Mary Poppins and her perks couldn't fix
Sleepless nights
drowsy days
what a mess indeed
sober work days
intoxicated nights
yet that stupid smile
those silly day dreams
Darling, I think
I have really gone Mad
May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 4:50 AM UTC