Best Famous Angel Dust Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Angel Dust poems. This is a select list of the best famous Angel Dust poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Angel Dust poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of angel dust poems.
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Written by
Denise Duhamel |
my mother pushed my sister out of the apartment door with an empty
suitcase because she kept threatening to run away my sister was sick of me
getting the best of everything the bathrobe with the pink stripes instead of
the red the soft middle piece of bread while she got the crust I was sick with
asthma and she thought this made me a favorite
I wanted to be like the girl in the made-for-tv movie Maybe I'll Come Home
in the Spring which was supposed to make you not want to run away but it
looked pretty fun especially all of the agony it put your parents through and
the girl was in California or someplace warm with a boyfriend and they
always found good food in the dumpsters at least they could eat pizza and
candy and not meat loaf the runaway actress was Sally Field or at least
someone who looked like Sally Field as a teenager the Flying Nun propelled
by the huge wings on the sides of her wimple Arnold the Pig getting drafted
in Green Acres my understanding then of Vietnam I read Go Ask Alice and
The Peter Pan Bag books that were designed to keep a young girl home but
there were the sex scenes and if anything this made me want to cut my hair
with scissors in front of the mirror while I was high on marijuana but I
couldn't inhale because of my lungs my sister was the one to pass out
behind the church for both of us rum and angel dust
and that's how it was my sister standing at the top of all those stairs that
lead up to the apartment and she pushed down the empty suitcase that
banged the banister and wall as it tumbled and I was crying on the other side
of the door because I was sure it was my sister who fell all ketchup blood and
stuck out bones my mother wouldn't let me open the door to let my sister
back in I don't know if she knew it was just the suitcase or not she was cold
rubbing her sleeves a mug of coffee in her hand and I had to decide she said I
had to decide right then
|
Written by
Ruth Padel |
I was with Special Force, blue-X-ing raids
to OK surfing on the Colonel's birthday.
Operation Ariel: we sprayed Jimi Hendrix
loud from helis to frighten the slopes
before 'palming.
A turkey shoot.
*
The Nang fogged up.
The men you need
are moral and kill like angels.
Passionless.
No judgement.
Judgement defeats us.
You're choosing between nightmares all the time.
My first tour, we hissed into an encampment
early afternoon, round two.
The new directive,
polio.
Inoculating kids.
It took a while.
As we left, this old man came up, pulled on our
back-lag jeep-hoods, yacking.
We went back.
They'd come behind us, hacked off
all the inoculated arms.
There they were
in a pile, a pile of little arms.
*
Soon after, all us new recruits turned on
to angel-dust like the rest.
You get it subsidized out there.
The snail can' t crawl on the straight
razor and live.
I'm innocent.
(This poem was Commended in the 1992 National Poetry Competition)
|
Written by
Majeed Amjad |
Here she comes, onto her “rooftop-terrace,” smiling
With a muted message in her fleeting glance !
This hazy air tinged with dusky reflections,
This desolate path … deserted lane … quiet evening,
The low wall of a house at the street corner,
Upon which is gently laid
A diffuse and silent spell !
This rooftop-terrace … familiar
With the sound of someone’s soft step,
This secluded place … echoing
With the strains of songs
Someone hums to herself !
The charisma of someone’s lips
Spreads dreamily on all sides
Like angel dust .
.
.
light-specks of smiles,
Delirium raining down
From the sweet wine of someone’s gaze,
Someone’s slender, silver-bangled arm
Raised in a silent gesture of greeting !
With her elbows resting on the parapet,
And the air of a Diva,
Stands someone … coyly blushing and silent
With a muted message in her fleeting glance !
|