Oh to be normal for just one day
Please Parky go away
I try to take each day as it comes
But I am all fingers and thumbs
I look around and so much is lying about
I feel like screaming but am told “don’t shout”
It would be so nice to have a chat
“What now” is all I get in reply to that
Why can’t they contribute to the running of their home
It is so hard do this on my own
A kind gesture would go down well
And help me through this crying spell
One a similar theme.
Grand-dad’s Friend Parky
My Grand-dad has a friend, Parky is his name,
He makes him shake and sway about, such a shame!
To my surprise he even shakes; sitting in his favourite chair,
I don’t think he is a friend: why? Because he doesn’t care!
Parky, says Grand-dad, makes him careful,
Is that why he’s slow, sometimes tearful?
Parky makes my Grand-dad crooked,
Bent double like a butcher’s hook is.
Parky makes my Grand-dad whisper,
He can’t shout like my mum’s sister!
But I love Grand-dad the same as before
I’d rather show his friend Parky, the front door!
Don’t worry says Grand-dad he’s my friend forever
But he hates his friend Parky! I know I’m clever.
Small bible in a Room One day just for me
I have a little book
It was my sole possession
No need to place my hand on it
To make this sad confession.
I'd hide a way each day with it and ponder in a room just for me
The Woman who gave birth to me
Washed hands of,gave away
Left a bible,no inscription
To track her down One Day.
Signed it with my own name in a room just for me
I would read it time and time again
To connect,maybe One Day she would come
The times ive wished through desperate tears
Sat praying for my Mum.
Maybe somewhere in her heart One Day there would be some room there left for me
I wrote in it my thoughts one day
Still there for all to see
When feelings are in overdrive
Void chasms deep in me.
Empty screams fall on deaf ears in a room just for me
To die a Thousand times inside
Then revive into the light
One day darkness tears will cease
Through perfection get it right.
In solitary minds turmoil made rooms inide of me
So subtle in delivery
In balanced gentle hugs
To recreationally intoxify
With smarty coated drugs.
Rooms then compartmentalise in rooms inside of me
Ive been there many times before
Mixed up and so unsteady
Staring blindly at my hand
Release there One Day ready.
Rooms get cluttered ,then there is no room inside available to me
My time is surely nearly there
Saw my Dad the Other Day
His eyes were filled with pity
As he tried to look away.
It won,t be long that small box One Day with room there just for me
My hand just would not write the words
Scrawl,tremoring and slow
It's time soon with small bible closed
Final chapter,breath and go.
Rooms Empty Today
there are always two aspects to commenting on a poem - the objective technical aspect and the subjective content.
objectively that is a magnificent poem.in my humble opinion, the best i have read of yours. structured, powerful, intelligent.
but if that's really how you feel, take care, accept all the help you can get. hopefully writing these poems helps rather than makes things worse.