01-29-2015, 09:55 AM
After reading many poems in the last few days I wrote a new one this morning. All my previously written stuff is the rhyming kind like Oleander spoon. That doesn't seem to be the way. This is my first crack at a non rhyming one.
Consolation prize
Startled from sleep by the screeching I stumble from my room
Technicolour shards of plastic imagination ebb underfoot
Untamed violence ricochets between them, squash racquet thwak
Returns serve thwak thwak
Boys please..... Give me a second
Destination bathroom, my socks soak up careless aim
Vacant eyes stare up at me from the dunny
A dolls head with punk hair lolls within
I need coffee.
Yellow ukulele reclines amongst the washing up
Funny, I heard no strumming and it was not there last night
Yes, coffee
She cradles a pinecone, stroking its spiky contours with love
It is her baby
Dressed in a green smocked dress, cocooned nursery pink in a wrap
At least she is not a chicken
She was once for 3 weeks, bok bok
Please use your spoon for cereal; it gets in your hair when pecked
Bok bok bok
Come on kids, get moving
Brush your hair, your teeth; don’t spit on your brother
Keep your hands to yourself, mind your own business
Shhh, come on now.......Quick. It’s nearly time to go
Skinny arms strangle me, with puppy gallop hugs
Gappy giggles bubble free from impish faces
Soggy kisses splodge my face; sticky hands wipe down my back
Bye Mum
Push, shove, scramble and slam
My surreal morning has been sucked out the door
A plump yellow bus has taken them away
There is a vacuum now in the empty house
The silence is heavy in way that somehow the noise never is
I finally have my coffee
But now,
it’s only a consolation prize.
Cheers. I have never written like this, so it will be interesting to see how you think it went.
Consolation prize
Startled from sleep by the screeching I stumble from my room
Technicolour shards of plastic imagination ebb underfoot
Untamed violence ricochets between them, squash racquet thwak
Returns serve thwak thwak
Boys please..... Give me a second
Destination bathroom, my socks soak up careless aim
Vacant eyes stare up at me from the dunny
A dolls head with punk hair lolls within
I need coffee.
Yellow ukulele reclines amongst the washing up
Funny, I heard no strumming and it was not there last night
Yes, coffee
She cradles a pinecone, stroking its spiky contours with love
It is her baby
Dressed in a green smocked dress, cocooned nursery pink in a wrap
At least she is not a chicken
She was once for 3 weeks, bok bok
Please use your spoon for cereal; it gets in your hair when pecked
Bok bok bok
Come on kids, get moving
Brush your hair, your teeth; don’t spit on your brother
Keep your hands to yourself, mind your own business
Shhh, come on now.......Quick. It’s nearly time to go
Skinny arms strangle me, with puppy gallop hugs
Gappy giggles bubble free from impish faces
Soggy kisses splodge my face; sticky hands wipe down my back
Bye Mum
Push, shove, scramble and slam
My surreal morning has been sucked out the door
A plump yellow bus has taken them away
There is a vacuum now in the empty house
The silence is heavy in way that somehow the noise never is
I finally have my coffee
But now,
it’s only a consolation prize.
Cheers. I have never written like this, so it will be interesting to see how you think it went.