"takeaways" poems
I TOOK WALK TO BULLER BEACH
I COULD NOT WALK ON THE SAND WITH MY BARE FEET
THE WAVES BROUGHT TO THE SHORE TAMPONS, CONDOMS AND PLASTIC
EVERYWHERE WAS CHAOTIC
THE SEAS HAVE BECOME A DUMPING SITE
WITH ******* PILED TO AN UNIMAGINABLE HEIGHT
MEN, WOMEN AND CHILDREN DEFECATING ON ROCKS
WITH NO SHAME
NO WONDER ITS NAME
TURTLES , DOLPHINS AND SEA BIRDS ARE DYING
THEY SWALLOW PLASTICS AND DIE FROM CHOKING
IF FISHER MEN ARE CATCHING PLASTIC TRASH
HOW CAN THEY MAKE MORE CASH?
CHANGE UR WAYS
AVOID THE TAKEAWAYS
Aug 1, 2012
Aug 1, 2012 at 8:58 AM UTC
Dennis was a citizen
A denizen, a resident
Of somewhere near a motorway
A hideaway most opulent
Ensnared amid the railway
And trail ways for motorcars
A haven from the modern day
The takeaways and trendy bars
But shattered in the summer morn
His rest was torn by hammering
Invading what was once inert
So to his curtains clamouring
He banished each to either side
He threw them wide with knuckles white
And saw in front of his abode
Across the road, a building site
A certainty within his mind
Did slowly wind his purpose tight
And with a grim determined jaw
Across the floor he took to flight
Descending stairs without a care
His morning hair resembling
A dandelion set to seed
In need of disassembling
He strode across his dining room
And snatched a broom which lay by chance
Against the table by the door
And held before him like a lance
He mounted his beloved bike
A cycle like no other made
And on a builder set his sight
With all his might and unafraid
He charged his foe at quite a rush
And with his brush, the builder smote
And leaping from his trusty steed
He did proceed to stop and gloat
Before resuming in his spate
The builders mate did turn and run
To raise the dragon, JCB
It roared with glee and wheels spun
So Dennis, though his ears resound
With just the pound of noble heart
Did firmly stand and face the beast
His brow was creased and feet apart
He struck the creature savagely
And stubbornly with just his head
And that, according to the news
Was what the paramedics said
The End
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 6:30 AM UTC
Sailing away on a luxury liner
Packing your bags and eloping to China
Building a castle and digging a moat
These are all things you can't do with a goat
Any assortment of wrapping and bagging
Over the fireplace or under the lagging
In your pyjamas, in Tupperware boxes
These are all places that irritate foxes
An onion, a carrot, a plantain or mango
A tikka kebab and a bottle of tango
A handful of pencils, a flaming baton
These are all things that won't fit in a swan
Pet shops and grocers and stationary suppliers
Takeaways, rivers and all kinds of fires
P&O; cruises, kebab shops, IKEA
These are all places I'm not allowed near...
**
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 1:17 PM UTC
If any path you took would lead you to greatness
Would you still be afraid of taking the first step?
And stay where you were and still are now
Living each passing second in waking regret?
Because the path to greatness does not mean
The journey is a one way, uphill climb
You fall off and climb then rest in between
Taking care of yourself regardless of time
Because the lessons lie in every moment
Mundane or overbearing extremes
You can find each lesson in the takeaways
If your mindset is easy to upkeep
Because a dream will never come to fruition
If it only lies comfortably where you sleep
Bring it forth into your waking moments
Or live a life waiting to grieve
Because I need that daily reminder
That it is not what but who I believe
I am capable of making things happen
I’ll take myself there with my own two feet
Sep 25, 2021
Sep 25, 2021 at 9:54 PM UTC
I have several things left to pack:
First, the old grey jumper.
Second, a dusty photo album.
Third, that China plate from the kitchen.
Moving through to the hallway,
I swivel on the spot.
The cat eyes me from the stairs,
Swishing his tail left to right.
I gesture to him: In childlike voice
"Don't worry I won't be leaving you".
Boxes laid at my feet, I fumble about.
What a life;
You spend most of it collecting junk;
And then you realise,
What an earth are you going to do with it all?
Leave it behind?
Chuck it away?
Chuck it away, leave it behind?
A disastrously difficult decision!
We are all sentimental someway.
The smell of cooked beef wafted from the kitchen.
Ah, home cooked meals.
I suppose it'll be takeaways soon.
Until we've settled in of course.
It's really real now isn't it?
Like a punch of reality,
Slapping you in the face.
Mixed emotions,
A bit like Sunday: You enjoy it but know that Mondays coming.
Gently, I stroked my cat.
Amongst the purring:
There came a sudden realisation,
That I had not started my list yet.
Mar 31, 2021
Mar 31, 2021 at 1:05 PM UTC
The atheist walks
Past the supermarket
Seeing only shoppers,
Buying their daily bread
Earnt by working nights on security, or
Days serving zombied customers
At drive through takeaways
Getting abused, watching the litter
Pile up from don't give a toss
Attitudes diving immaculate cars,
He sees shattered dreams in the homeless
Begging to survive another day
In pavement poverty,
Preying on good will by sliding doors
In the rain,
Teenagers pushing prams, abandoned
To a cruel world of benefits and scams
Just to make ends meet,
Men wheeling six packs to their hatchbacks
Hoping they have enough *****
To block out another weekend
Of the wife moaning about never going out
And the grass needs cutting,
He smells the pollution of all the cars
Driven a few hundred yards
For a pack of cigarettes
And some dried noodles for the kids for lunch
Just to shut them up,
He sees only individuals
Railing against each other, falling
Over their directionless lives
All wanting to be somewhere, NOW.
He pushes past them all
Never looking up, never acknowledging
A single face, knowing his place
In the crowd.
But I see the woman who stops
In her nurses uniform
Tired from another 12 hour shift
Smiling at the beggar she drops him her change,
Takes her shopping to the car
Looking forward to a family meal together,
Waits for someone to pull out of their parking space
As she leaves for a humble home
Built on love,
I still see a light in the darkness.
Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 4:13 PM UTC
In All sincerety
Modesty
Accolades
And so on so forth
I hope you find a singular
Voice
Underneath all that rubble
Of life
That single
Spark in the forest
That brings it all down
The gold brick
In the Great Wall
Titanium pebble
In the Saharas
Extinct prehistoric fish
Swimming freely in the
Aegean
I hope you find
Your voice
Your stature
Your lungs
Your foothold
Amongst the selfish selfies
The boss
The Instafaces
Greedy
Nonchalants
Unenigmatic
Drunkards and Takeaways
You’ll know them
You’ll break Bread with them
You’ll dance with them
When you’re younger
Know when to get up from
The table
And feast upon yourself
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
If humankind was just one man
His house would be the world
He'd live on only takeaways
The curtains never furled
His clothing would be shabby
Just a mess of cloth and strings
But on his little finger
Are a dozen diamond rings
The body might be starving
But the pinky hoards its gold
The hunger could be ended
With a single diamond sold
The kitchen could be mended
The gloom made slightly brighter
That's not the pinky's problem
So it holds on even tighter
It hires the other fingers
And one adjacent thumb
To stab the legs repeatedly
And beat the kidneys numb
The body starts to waste away
And much to its surprise
Along with every other thing
The little finger dies
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 1:45 PM UTC
He was a bachelor,
A free soul without bother.
He comes home from work,wan,
The house is ***** and span,
Every thing is perfectly placed,
The table,with food laid,
His pyjamas neatly piled on the bed,
That is the maid.
He gets married,
He comes home tired,
A little clutter here and there,
But the bedroom is done with care.
There is soft music, perfumed candles and flowers,
Romantic nights for lovers,
For dinner,mostly takeaways and leftovers.
They have children, three,
He comes home, weary,
There is chaos,
The house is a mess,
Children are crying and shouting,
The dog is barking,
The wife is howling and screaming,
Before she starts complaining,
He takes over the kitchen,
Tells her to see to the children,
For, household chores,
She abhors.
The wife and kids go to her mother,
Home is quiet, no clutter,
For a while mum has come to stay,
Once again hot meals everyday,
The house is warm and clean,
He only has to see to the bin.
Mum is the best,
But he misses his wife and kids nevertheless.
Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 12:42 PM UTC
Soar like a eagle remain like a plane,
I'm higher then high and i don't do *******
Learning this wisdom while building this development,
Feeling so large I might be a elephant,
Pursing my goals I feel the achievements,
Slowly recovering I feel the treatments,
Taking advantage of these opportunities,
Helping these people like a community,
Stand for a cause or don't stand at all,
Running for freedom like football,
You should take it back but there ain't no takeaways,
So raise them hands and just praise,
Shot right though you like a bullet,
I'm cooking these words like a skillet,
My faith is stronger then the world's strongest man,
Its scaring all the people i used to hang with like the bogeyman,
I'm throwing alley oops call me cp3,
I'm throwing words at your face like 3D,
Ain't no stopping this degree of where I'm at,
I'm moving though traffic while they still got a flat,
Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
I fall
I learn
I stand up back
I fall again but to learn something new
Falling makes me learn
Falling makes me profound
Falling give me the important takeaways
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC