Best Suzanne Poems
“The October night comes down; returning as before
Except for a slight sensation of being ill at ease
I mount the stairs and turn the handle of the door
And feel as if I had mounted on my hands and knees.”
----- “Portrait of a Lady;” T. S. Eliot
A golden afternoon,
Late October, and my thoughts
Are all of you, Suzanne…
Vestiges of your being
Appear on visages of
A hundred different people;
But none are you, not one
As green, as golden.
Hard it is to know no miracle
Will mend, no giddy hope assuage,
The scourge that slowly puts an end
To our valiant green and golden girl.
Memory takes us to days of indolence,
Of innocence, of children lying on a levee
Deep in lush, green, summer clover --
In sunlight almost as golden
As your hair -- beside a flowing river
Bearing away your golden hours
And the painless green of youth.
Now, in your green room, reclined
In shadow, our golden girl reposes.
Your courage lights the coming night
That does not dim the gold and green
You always shared, and still you share.
Suzanne in the Clouds
I am here, way up here
At peace and flying free
Dancing with angels
Singing with the accompaniment of violins and harps
Choirs here abound, such a wondrous sound
We have swings, numerous playgrounds of fun
Here all we little ones, smile and eat sugar plums
We see the heavens, we have become the universe
So yes I miss you, but smile it’s not the end
Look up in those dark gray skies
It’s me your flesh and blood that does cry
Not for the days of long ago
It’s me who weeps and sheds tears for you so sad
So I send you hugs and kisses
I send you heavens wishes
Live for me, and live for you
You have too, you see, live for two!
There will be a day we are children together
It will not matter the time or the weather
So I beg of you way down there
Live this life as if I were there
I am just a little one
With the gift of the after
I am no wiser just filled with joyous laughter
Knowing one day
We will all be family once again
Kisses from heaven
Thinking of Suzanne – Raised on Radio
Raised on radio, I still listen
to haunting love songs that sadly
remind me of you, lovely Suzanne,
of times when we couldn’t get enough
of each other, body and soul blazing with fire.
Oh Baby, I prayed with all my heart
that it could have been you;
you with the eyes of a woman,
so perceptive, so desirable, and so in love;
you with your soft, warm, positive touch,
that arouses and electrifies all my senses;
always unselfishly happy to give
totally and unconditionally to me.
But now you say it’s all over.
You say you don’t love me anymore.
Please stay, don’t take the magic away.
Why can’t this night go on forever?
Oh girl, can’t help it, you’re my life;
and once you love somebody,
letting go is the hardest thing to do.
But somehow, I’ll survive and
I’ll be alright without you.
So my sweet love, be good to yourself,
and just know this man will think of you,
when our special song plays on the radio.
The above poem incorporated Album #2 Tracks (in bold above) from Raised on Radio by Journey:
Girl Can`t help it, Positive Touch, Suzanne, Be Good to Yourself, Once You Love Somebody, Happy to Give, Raised on Radio, I`ll be Alright Without You, It Could have been You, The Eyes of a Woman, Why Can't this Night Go on Forever
08-18-2015
Contest: Album Tracks Tell Stories
Sponsor: James Fraser
Placement: 6th
I am standing
In a line scene
Cuz my body
Needs its caffeine
And in front of me some dink
Orders a confusing drink
Now he’s changing ‘round his order
With our patients growing shorter
And a sword from
Someone’s pocket
Now sticks through the
Guy’s eye socket
Du du du du
Du du du du
Du du du-du du-du du-du...
.
Such has passed
the flower
her soft touch
her
pure loveliness
allure
comeliness
such has passed
the precious days
which count
she was born
Such shall not pass
the promise
from the One who
did raise our Lord
“to raise all
who are His”
My first love was called Sue Heather,
I thought I’d love her forever.
We kissed and came to grief:
With braces on her teeth,
She stapled my lips together.
Suzanne has the eyes of a woman, but the heart of a lonely child
She was raised on the radio, as an escape from the world
in a house without love, or the warmth of a smile.
No positive touch, to guide her along
No one to hold her, when lost, or alone, but will grow to be strong in spite of it all
The girl can't help it, she has something to tell
Happy to give what she's learned about love
That to be good to yourself, is the first golden rule
Once you love somebody, and they love in return,
you can learn how to say, "I'll be alright without you"
Suzanne has the eyes of a woman, and a song in her heart
She understands pain, but has grown to be smart
and a part of her knows to be strong, on her own
She once felt alone, but learned to be free
One flip of a coin,....it could have been you, it could have been me.
There once was a child.....raised on the radio
spending long nights in a much kinder world
Dreaming of rainbows, to take her away
and sailing on oceans of air waves all day
Ever watching as stars glisten in moonlight,
often while asking the man in the moon,
never for certain that someone might listen...
"Why can't this night go on forever?"
________________________________________________
9/19/15
Submitted for Contest: "Album Tracks Tell Stories"
Sponsored by James Fraser
TRACKS: Girl Can`t help it, Postive Touch, Suzanne, Be Good to Yourself, Once You Love Somebody, Happy to Give, Raised on Radio, I`ll be Alright Without You, It Could have been You, The Eyes of a Woman, Why Can't this Night Go on Forever
If you kiss the Dragon Suzanne she'll lick your brown face
But you must give her a boiled whale to save your mortal race
She can't say boo to a goose
You can hold her by a noose
But if you lay a trip on her you'll vanish without trace
When I was a little girl I loved all my dolls,
but, there was one that was very special to me;
some sat on my bed, some upon shelves on the walls,
one day we took a trip to places filigree !
My best doll was called Suzanne after my sister,
she was an angel in heaven in God's strong arms;
I slept with Suzanne and at night often kissed her,
we came home to red flames and fire truck alarms !
I ran towards the house screaming for my Suzanne,
mom held me in her arms as I wept- dead again;
our house was gone and we went to stay with gran,
for days I cried and could not even speak my pain !
Mom bought me a new Suzanne but I called her Anne,
she came everywhere with me even to my school;
I kept her safe with me- oh, yes that was my plan,
at our church on Sunday she learnt the golden rule !
In truth, I never forgot my very best doll,
she was gone forever and forever was lost;
sometimes, when it is quiet I can hear her call,
though Anne, I so love- and she will never get tossed !
I climb in Suzanne,
She ain't no hippy van,
She's rusty and forgotten
Her soul is slightly rotten
But I believe she's grand.
I turn the key and roar her
Then I beg her like a schnorrer
Won't you let me live inside you
If not own you then to ride you
With life becoming more.
They tell me you're a clunker
And a worn out useless junker
I want you fixed and waxed
With my refund income tax
And life will be so good.
Sleeping in the back
Of my rusty Cadillac
She promises me a meal
in Gorst's finest diner
And a ride o'er the sea
to a place she loves in China
And that's the way to feel.
But I died asphyxiated
From this life liberated
When Suzanne turned herself on
Ran exhaust until the air's gone
And I smiled in my sleep
Eternal and so deep
For only Death is real.
Cyril is a squirrel that comes from the Wirral,
he looks cute and furry but he's gone a bit feral,
Cyril dislikes foreign squirrels,
won't hear no ifs or buts,
he says the tide of squirrelgrants are going to have all the nuts,
Cyril voted ukip and cheered when brexit won,
The says 'now we've taken back control,
got the eurocats on the run',
Cyril thinks that Farage is just a wicked bloke,
he'd like to sit inside the pub with him
and rant and drink and smoke,
he says that Nigel's got it and speaks with the common squirrel's voice,
now we're leaving Europe we have simple choice,
strong and stable nut trees or bremoaners whining, jeez
- surely empress Theresa must be the best of these.
He thinks that every squirrel,
should be free to gather as many nuts,
as he is physically able and if that means some cuts,
to furry mammal welfare that's just the price you pay,
for strong and stable government, it's the neo-squirriberal way.
Now Suzanne's a cosmic yoga teacher,
with her chakras all aligned,
she sees the good in everyone, wants peace for all mankind.
She took her mum out shopping, to Tescos in Ledbelly town,
parked the car and got her bags for life and prepared to shop on down,
she needed organic yeast free beansprouts
and free range yoghurt with which to knit,
a tea cosy for the Dalai lama,
(she thinks he's really fit).
But at the storefront entrance,
a standoff was in full swing,
a fearsome beast with claws and teeth and lot's of tats and bling,
was scaring all the customers!
-the staff couldn't do a thing,
they said 'you'll have to go to Aldi, for if we open up,
Cyril the squirrel will trash the place!',
Suzanne said 'wassup'?,
Suzanne's sense of social justice began to kick in now,
she said 'he's got a point you know,
I'm being a mardy cow'.
She overturned the basket and said to Cyril run,
go, be free and have some squirrel fun.
And there the story might have ended (TBC)
you picked me up at a currys in Beckenham
I liked your ear rings
We started our affair
you confessed to have addictions
if not tobacco then alcohol
and how you missed your chance at acting school
It seemed losing ran in streaks
Your father collected anchor butter
as you shot off to your Bayswater sub let
on weekdays
Going to say goodbye to Suzanne
the river flows
its summer but feels late autumn
The contention school is over
There's breath outside Beckenham
continues ....
(for it 'twas by him that she was awoken).
'Dont listen to hate, or give in to fear,
He said with a countenance kindly,
remember your Vedas and mantras,
Let your be life be lived for the many,
and not for the few,
don't be led into fascism blindly'!
With these wise, timely words in her ears she awoke,
And said by Krishna! I feel so much better,
I must give to the poor and buy the big issue
off that bloke,
the one that's got the red setter.
Now she's totally restored to full yogic health,
and she volunteers at the hospice on Sundays,
'Social welfare should be funded by taxes on wealth!'
She says now, and every Monday
Suzanne can be found (when no one's around)
doing good deeds,
for strangers,
by stealth.
Gone is the curse of the ware squirrel,
but, what of Cyril?
Surely, there must be some news?
The rumour is that he joined Conservative Home,
And now works for Boris in Tory HQ.
Her hair is multi~coloured,she wears big doc marten boots,her body is covered in pictures,where the tattoo gun ran loose..she hasn’t got any confidence,and very low self esteem,she paints a smile on her face,that turns into a beam..she values all her friendships,you all make her feel complete,she gets some nasty comments,but those haters she will beat!….she has her own personal struggles,it’s like fighting in a war,she gets tired of fighting a battle,for she has no points to score..she’s defiantly a fighter,she fights for just herself,she don’t need any money,as her friendships are her wealth..she is somebody’s daughter,but she doesn’t give a damn,she feels just like a warrior,her name is just SUZANNE..
And there the story might have ended
But the bite on Suzanne's thumb
Throbbed and became distended,
'I must say, I feel a little rum',
she said and lay down on her bed,
but as she fell asleep a patch of fur
started growing on her tum.
She slept a light and fitful sleep
Full of strange hypnotic dreams
in which she leapt from branch to branch,
speaking in a stuttering chattering scream.
When she awoke she felt warm and cosy,
her bad dreams had all gone away,
The clear bright light of dawn was rosy,
She was looking forward to the day.
But looking in the mirror her face turned a whiter shade of pale,
for now, coming from her lower back was a thick and bushy tail!
Her two front teeth were now so large they stuck out prominently,
And somehow she was not quite in charge of an urge to act, well, more rodently!
Now instead of inspiring her yoga class
With her incredibly flexible poses,
These days Suzanne is sure to be found
In the park, (only partly obscured by the roses),
Listening intently with her pointy ears for the sound of a poor unwary fella,
that sits down to munch on a nutritious lunch
of sandwiches filled with nutella.
For Cyril had imparted a terrible curse,
He was a ware squirrel you see, man,
and what is worse, his thumb biting curse,
had passed on his populist schtick,
and now she's a big Daily Mail fan!
In her throat comes a lump
at the mention of Donald J Trump,
And austerity, well now she's all for it, ha!,
Let the poor rot in hell,
And the disabled as well,
Katy Hopkins she follows on Twitter,
She's the chair of her local EDL group,
Since she abandoned her candles and crystals,
At night she culls badgers, just for fun, with a whoop,
And owns shares in a frack site near Bristol.
Could this be the end for our white witchy friend?
Can the curse of the ware squirrel be broken?
Fear not dear reader, there's light round the bend,
these few verses are merely a token,
Soon in hushed tones by crusty old crones of a miracle will it be spoken,
how Suzanne the fair, once cursed by a ware
Squirrel was magically spared from this sorry affair
by our old Jedi mate Oby Wan of Conorbyn,
for it 'twas by him that she was awoken.