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Best Poems Written by Allen W Trew

Below are the all-time best Allen W Trew poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Hood

I stood before the homeless man
My face lit in righteous Lincoln green.
He thanked me for the proffered booty
And 
I was magnanimous
In my acceptance.
He gazed at me 
For the moment it took
For me to turn, 
And walk away...
I was no longer sure of my feelings.

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2016



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On the Impending Death of My Father

Out on the front verandah
We'd share a bottle of silence
And watch a twenty-eight in the dead Jarrah tree -
Neither of us thinking of the death that was to be.
I'd produce a flask of wit
And you'd follow with a chuckle -
The low, breathy kind,
Like a 'packet-a-day' kookaburra
Just beginning to wind up.
No, not much to say,
All said in our glasses
As we sit
And wait...
For the long, quiet night.

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2012

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Wonderings

I hear a night bird cry; it's voice broken And I ask myself why Birds are angry at the sky When they have the gift to fly.

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2012

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My Breath Is Taken

My breath is taken. 
No choice,
Just taken. 
Ecstatic pain
Thrills through me,
And I know 
You are right for me. 
This glove fits so well;
WE fit so well. 
They laugh at our antics,
That gallery of stern critics. 
Foolishly juxtaposed!
Enemies of Bliss!
The last laugh
Is ours.

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2014

Details | Allen W Trew Poem

Apology To C Y Oconnor

Coal-red eyes protruded from your bust
As we swaggered in mock-bravado.
We were afraid of you Charles
And the shadows you cast
From within cast shadows.

Chinese Apple replacing Adam's
And a terry-towelling cap to repel the '02 sun -
Resurrected in '74 -
It was, Charles, a time of rebellion.

Steel-blue Winfields survey the source
Of your pipe-dream...
How you must detest, yet now, that coinage!
And do you see, Charles,
From your self-inflicted throne
(With inscription below)
That it was no pipe-dream?

Perhaps death has cured your blindness.

I Harbour hope, Charles,
With the wisdom I have gained 
Since '02
Back in '74,
That you see your feats fulfilled...
And mine forgiven.

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2012



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Memory of Adelaide

A wind rolled away down a lonely street
Like silent thunder wrenching, reaping dread,
While an ancient man drew the covers up
To thaw old bones reclined on slatted bed.

Phlegmy eyes coughed into wakefulness and
Slid slowly in their sockets to his chest
And Oh! to hear that moan of sheer defeat
When the flagon echoed his emptiness.

His stingy warmth - printed, numbered; scattered
Like yesterday's news and flew with dire mirth
To dance a cloven jubilee of death,
As old boots, so weary, kissed their mother earth.

The wind rolled away down an empty street -
A whispering dirge borne on leaf-soaked cloud
And an ancient man resting, still as night,
Lies waiting, waiting, waiting for his shroud.

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2012

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The Election

The election date was settled,
There were only two contenders -
An Angel named Forthright
And the God Who now presided;
But the polls predicted Forthright's right-wing swing!

Angel Forthright deemed God useless,
Said He'd lied and cheated -
Drowned millions in The Flood;
Covered Pompeii up with mud
For little more than enjoying life's vast pleasures!

God had backed His actions up,
Putting everything up front:
"The people there had sinned,
Throwing caution to the wind.
You cannot say they never had fair warning!"

"You lie!" cried Angel Forthright;
"Even You cannot deny it.
What of Soddom and Gomorrah?
Your life is steeped in horror.
You'd just as well throw in the towel right now!

And then of Precious Eden -
You said Adam was a Heathen.
Put temptation in his way
Then You have the nerve to say
That he'd defied the Laws of God and all that's sacred!

I ask you dear voters,
Is He the One to hope on?
This poor conniving fool
Who thinks Godhood's just a tool
To use towards His own scheming devices!"

But Forthright's fury turned to panic
When the people dubbed him manic
They said God's gifts had far outnumbered
All the things that He had blundered
And they'd much prefer to rest their hopes on Him!

Angel Forthright bowed his mane
For his rhetoric was in vain
And one phrase rang through his mind
As he left the crowds behind -
The haunting sound of 'Blessed are the Meek...'

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2012

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The Haze

Twas in a summer thunderstorm
And lightning lit the night to day,
I stood aghast and so forlorn
When first I spied a certain Haze.

It took on form - lovely Diana -
Or Boudica with upraised banner?
A shapeless thing in many ways,
That woundrous, beautiful, misty Haze.

It beckoned me - I could not but follow
Into a Net of Glory Days
But like old battlefields, now hollow,
It broke apart, that hazy Haze.

If I could commit one thing to mind
Of all things Past has left behind
It would be 'til End of Days
That wondrous, beautiful, misty Haze.

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2012

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In Convenience

I slowly unfurled the paper from the roll before my eyes -
So this would be my last farewell - my one great feat in life.
My thoughts were turned to others as I drew my Levi's up
And wrapped the paper round my neck...then round once more for luck.

With a wondrous calm I wedged the roll 'tween the cistern and the wall.
"It's now or never", I thought aloud, and climbed up on the bowl.
With breath expelled and hope expired I plunged toward the floor
And pondered on the goodbye note I'd scratched into the door:

'Alas poor Fred, he knew not what his life was meant to be...'
But my thoughts were interrupted as I buckled at the knees!
A wave of horror gripped me until I saw the jest
For I suddenly remembered..Sorbent's stretchier than the rest!

So my history-making suicide was literally down the drain;
But being determined as I was, I had to try again.
A different angle this time - I would drown myself instead.
So kneeling down to face the bowl..I gently lower my head.

Salty tears spring to my eyes; my life-force rather stubborn -
For I find in this position that I cannot reach the button!
Resignedly I raise my head, I'd live my life devoutly,
And when God decides it's time to go...He can bloody-well go without me!

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2012

Details | Allen W Trew Poem

For Brittany Maynard

That frightened Child
With the woman's eyes 
Felt a dread
She could not disguise; 
She asked, "Oh Lord,
What have I done
For you to beckon
One so young?"
The Lord answered,
"You have no sin. 
A special place lies within
My arms for you. 
I gave you wings
My cherished one;
Spread them now...
And come. "

Copyright © Allen W Trew | Year Posted 2014

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things