Bedstead Poems | Examples

Absence

Though the carpet teemed with costumes, toys and figures, laid orderlessly, it was barren. 
Distant echoes of the battery powered monkey clapped naively through the still air, and its dim LED eyes softly flickered.

A thread of light shifted through the overcast clouds and chipped window pane, placing itself where someone had once been. Each step creaked the empty yellowed racecar bedstead which ached in loneliness, weakly reminiscing. 

Nothing is said, as superheroes lean against the bedframe and villains lay beside them. They  keep their place, perhaps waiting for an end to the silence. I lay beside them, another still figure. Silent. Static. Hoping, foolishly, to escape this hollow world.

Belay

Just belay, will you,
hook-up and just stay.
Grab a mooring,
until the break of day.
Or ride at anchor on line,
rode to sea's bedstead,
instead.
Just belay, and moreover just stay,
steadfast and sheltered, right here secure, 
with no if and buts
for up-anchor, quick-and-away lifts,
to aweigh, your belay stay
with me today.

Everlasting

I always think of us as young
you still blooming and me too fresh
Like the time when your little body was huge
with our boy
we really rocked the cradle back then

or that time
in some cheap hotel in a scuzzy British resort

was it Skegness

When we
both a little drunk
shook a bedstead loose from its frame

Our bodies made a wild kind of poetry back then
not gentle
We fell into whirlpools of frenzy
unholy delights flickering red in our eyes

Do you recall old girl

Such passions rekindle themselves
through time and distance
they dance on everlasting

though with much calmer flames
and a more steady propriety

Gift Wrapped In Love

Hark, listen to the church bells ring
In welcome to our newborn King 
Sing in praise for the Holy babe
It was for us our Saviour came.

As never before - kneel and pray
For peace on earth this Christmas Day
Come back joyous days of yore
When hearts of gold came to the fore.

Choirs accompanied by brass bands
Sang out to crowds who'd stop and stand
In weather cold beyond reason
Celebrating Yuletide season.

Friends and neighbours often stopped by
For festive cheer and a mince pie
Folk selflessly shared what they had
No one went hungry, hearts were glad.

Children were content to accept 
A stocking hung on the bedstead
An apple, orange, a few nuts
If they had behaved well enough.

Token gifts were given with grace
On the day the world celebrates
God's only son, His precious gift
Wrapped up in love and fellowship.
Christmas 2020

Beer Get Outta Here

Just going for a BEER

Beer, Beer, what you are doing here
I thought I gave you up
But there are still two cans of you left here in the fridge

Now enough is enough
But I do though like salty peanuts
And when you seem to make it snow
I know I can’t leave the pub

To get more beer and some cheer
Now that’s what I call luck
Happy hour is here again
So I don’t give a XXXX

Beer, Beer what are you doing here
Time you went to bed
For if you stay to much longer 
You will affect my head

Night to you all and no need to crawl to the bedstead

Me and Beer have come to agree that he will never leave
So I will just lock him out and hope we don’t both freeze

Beer, Beer, it’s time for you and me to sup

Then to bed we shall go until the next winter glow
And it’s your time to get up slow 

Before Mr Hangovers

DAMO

Mind Your Old

Her old grandmother ailing
Shortly before she lied down
Her quaver fresh head facing the wall
Her crocodile skin broke of blood vessels
She let the dying for burial

She ran away from
The old one who used to-
With a clean razor sew her forested head
Lumbering to clear the wild animal infested bushes
As she tried in vain to breath to bathe on her bedstead

On the eve of her demise she got the information
The civilized one through the nose banged the call
Let the dead bury the dead as she hissed sounding antediluvian
With her entire bed burdened with unknown deceased men fossils
Shhh! Let the dead bury the gone

The Birth and Rebirth In a New Dawn

Steam driven ashes and lava from volcanoes
Obscure tomorrows
Exploding from bean pods and tomatoes
Beseeching and seeking halos

Our lives require
To earn a rebirth
Inspire and inquire
Whether a new berth

Becomes of the essence
In the path the future offers
Despite the intensive care unit defence
Happiness in bloom proffers

To decrease the harm
Self destruction and self deceit 
Can inflict when calm
Vanishes into the precinct whose welcome receipt

Determines if our happiness hangs on the thread
Lost in the complexity and cohesion in the spiderweb
Enmeshed in the labyrinth whose bedstead
Holds the secret to our arrival and survival on the World Wide Web

Where happiness navigates
Searching for you and I
Not as surrogates at Sorrows’ Gates
But as equal partners in debunking a fatal lie.

Lamentaion

I have being bitten with a poisonous sting
Causing me greater pain
Making me feel unconscious
And allowing tears flow down my cheek

I have being bitten by an unseen creature 
Causing people to mourn with me 
Causing me to have that unusual thinking
And making me cry uncontrollable

I have being bitten with a poisonous sting 
Which makes neighbours and friends 
Comfort me to the highest extreme
And making them voice out 'sorry' to me.

I have being bitten by an unseen creature 
Who took my loved ones forever 
Putting their remnant in a forever bedstead
And taking their spirit away to the other side.

I have being bitten with a poisonous sting
Which makes a living creature 
Get separated from their loved ones
All because they are now at the other side 

Oh!! I have being bitten by an unseen creature
Which I know not who you are
And still believe that you're inevitable
Cos you'll still come back for me.

The Snore of a Bore

I dreamt I said, ‘Hullo, Fellow’ on her pink plumage pillow
When from my blue sky grew and flew a sentimental swallow
That told me to fold my arms and grow calm because it didn’t matter anymore
As the etiquette of entire episode chose to metamorphose into a sappy snore. 

I dreamt life no longer brought, caught or taught strident strife
When for the umpteenth time a series of memories drew me to my lost life
Taken away from my puny pay on a gray Wintry Wednesday
Leaving my heart bleeding, begging and weeping every day.

I dreamt I lost my post as teacher to become a preacher
When a sermon I delivered reminded me I wasn’t a true blue bleacher
Who in the twinkling of an eye could turn ebony black into snow white
Praying hard for God to restore a sinner’s succor and salvation right.

I dreamt sanity and vanity from my mind vowed to quit
When by force of booze I succeeded in losing my wit
Indulging instead the bedstead of lampoon language
That infiltrated and integrated every fabric of my every message.

I Remember

I remember


I remember
A swallow gliding across 
The moon’s rising shadow
That falls 
At the feet of my bedstead.
I look at the glow and the raven black sky
And wonder of what’s to come.


I remember
Crashing it fell
Into a birch
Covered in snow
Crisp white snow
Sending an icy death
Across it rigor mortis limbs.
That yearn for the sky.


So the Fall
Leads to a still death,
And time passes.

Memories

I recollect we would,encircling a fire,congregate
Brew tea and pregnant stories of ancient time narrate
My grandpa would hours during nonstop preach
The inestimable merits of Dawn prayer and teach

Deserting wintry bedstead and its comfort 
Cleansing,doing ablutions and to the masjid resort
Yet would hibernate and for a while snore
Something the hapless,antiquated elder imploded to account for

Instead on the blasphemous devil blast it
Spurn to avoid his assailable limit
Professing satan has peed in his ear
Portending any if to his alibi doesn't adhere

God is merciful and our flaws does tolerate
Gran dad's motto is only spank and flagellate.

Post Coitum Omne Animal Triste Est, Sive Gallus Et Mulier

Post coitum omne animal triste est, 

             sive gallus et mulier*

 

Yes, no cockerel who rules the cackling roost

   Will stomach slander from Latin master;

But who will stand aside and let the ghost

   Of hints slur old motherhood’s register.

Manhood must of needs hang its head in pain

   After all the sweat and toil in loins of love;

After millions of squiggly soldiers in vain

   Drop their lean tails at the egg wall alcove.

Only the fool who dares call woman’s bluff

   Shall learn hard way positions in bedstead;

Virile pride will sink in the depths of fluff

   While smooth gym-trained muscles rage instead.

   As they say hereabouts sur le vieil Continent

   La différence, Mon Sieur: lip’s shade content.

 

·     * “After the sexual encounter every animal is
grief-stricken,
excepting the cock and the woman.”

 

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2005-2012. From the collection:

Poems Omega Plus, 2005. Rev. 2012.

Memory Weapons

5 a.m. had surfaced
Weary I ascended from my bedstead
Keen I rose the first of many cancer sticks
to the sleek rift of my lips
Oh, how the flavor of fresh, young smoke
Knocked at the base of my esophagus
Caressing my uvula with infinitely
Unfathomable mountains of beauty

Relax

Starry portents twinkling in iris,
the rest was essential,
some potent tranquilizer,
was working on wrecked nerves,
in delirium one felt,
sweet honey run through nerves,
slowly to brain,
where it oozed,
as if rain,
wetting the parched,
and loosening,
the starched,
gradually links got severed,
and limbs knew not,
where one was,
and where the other,
only a blob,
rested on bedstead,
perhaps holding,
the pillow and post,
drowsiness was overpowering,
and enveloping,
the boat sank,
and sank deep,
only to bob back,
as if new.

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