Party Smiles

Party Smiles 

Picture by Bert Stern

The clock struck twelve, 

But no one would delve, 

Behind the smiles, 

Of the party girl with her precious pearls

Sporting coiffured and well groomed curls, 

 As the champagne flowed, 

No sadness showed 

Behind her smiles! 

The clock struck one,

A new year had begun, 

She walked tentatively alone for almost a mile,

Tears threatened and pricked behind the smiles, 

The tears they flowed, 

Her sadness had stewed 

Behind her smiles ! 

And at a quarter to two, 

She knew what she wanted to do. 

She cut her flesh , felt feelings afresh,

The blood seemed comforting as it flowed, 

 Refuse to slow, 

She didn't weep as the blood oozed and seeped, 

She passed away on that brand new day, 

Smiling genuinely at the start of a new year in her morbid decay !

 Submitted toMagpie Tales

 

In Memoriam To A Song Bird

In Memoriam To A Song Bird 


With her bird nest hairdo, 
Her Retro Flair,
Honeyed notes of earlier generations
This Fragile Song bird charmed a nation.


The lyrics she penned,
Were her lifes declaration,
Addiction became her crazy predilection,
It was to heavenly spheres she had to ascend. 


Time in her earthly gilded dovecote
 Was cut short, too premature
Her voice, talent and life,
Should not become a footnote,
Or just the story or News de le Jour.
May Her Talent Live On !


This Poem was written in memory of Amy Winehouse who died On July 23rd 2011


Please click here ->_The Amy Winehouse Foundation

Life/Death Support.

Life/Death Support

There you lie in your sterile bed,

With your sterile hands and your sterile head.

Tubes growing from your torso and limbs,

Your body intact but your spirit becoming thin.

I look at this person I knew before 

All lifeless and blank,a human no more. 

The tubes are your lifeline,all yellow and clear 

To rip them out and give you your pride,

I would pay dear 

But to have loved and watch you now 

My own Death I fear !

Jingle Poetry Potluck

The Waiting Room

The Waiting Room

You sit in your red plastic seat,
Awaiting your destiny, one we will all meet,
You cling to your chairs wooden sides, your knuckles clenched  
But,
Only when the pain is really intense.

Your fibres hang on to your meagre frame,
When you catch sight of your own reflection,
You see how much you have changed,
The many folds of skin, the lack of hair,
You know inside you'll soon be there.

Around the rooms more chairs await,
For those who have lived and feel they are late,
For the place we are all going,
But,
They have to wait in this state,
Until it's their time to knock on heavens gate.