Long Quite a Poems
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COMING UP ON 47 YEARS ON PLANET EARTH, AND IT'S BEEN QUITE A JOURNEY. FROM MY EARLIEST MEMORIES OF GROWING UP ON SCOTT STREET IN SAN BRUNO TO BEING A WARD OF THE COURT UNTIL I TURNED 18. I WENT FROM JUVENILE HALL TO REHABS AND SPENT MOST OF MY TEENAGE YEARS LOCKED UP IN SOME FORM OR OTHER. I GREW UP WITH CHOLOS BIKERS, TWEEKERS, AND CONVICTS.
WHAT I HAVE LEARNED SO FAR IS THAT IN THIS LIFE, NOTHING IS GUARANTEED AND NOTHING LASTS FOREVER. I'VE LEARNED TO BE GRATEFUL FOR THE GOOD AND THE BAD BECAUSE IT BUILDS CHARACTER AND IT MAKES ME UNIQUE AND DIFFERENT THAN ANYONE ELSE. MY WINS, LOSSES, BAD DECISIONS, SCARS, AND PAIN MAKE ME WHO I AM TODAY.
I PATIENTLY WAIT TO BE REUNITED WITH MY BOYS. BEING A FATHER HAS BEEN ONE OF THE BEST GIFTS THAT THE LORD HAS GIVEN ME.
I AWAIT TO SEE WHAT MY GOD HAS FOR ME IN MY NOT-SO-DISTANT FUTURE.
See that vessel back there
Just claimed by the storm
The whole crew is expired
Some had not yet been born
There’s no sense parsing gestures
Or mincing words this day
Times like these, the best you can do
Is bundle up and walk away
I know you’ve heard the story
The news rolls on and on
The pulse of irritation
Grips you some time around dawn
And your fingers are like drumsticks
But there is no tune to play
Moments like these, you seal up your beat
And start to walk away
The curtain has been lowering
For quite a while by now
Generations pass in grief
As the eras will allow
It all blurs into one façade
One miniature shadow play
Shows like these, you grab your coat
And your ticket stub and walk away
I don’t know if I’ll make much sense
I’m pretty sure I won’t
On the fields of isolation,
Some break the fence and some don’t
I hope your crop grows sky-high
May fertile winds go your way
As for the rest of us in the bowl of dust,
Let us pack up and walk away.
I waited and I waited just in case she’d been delayed
I stood there feeling foolish, though I acted undismayed
A movie and some popcorn might have won her pretty smile
And I was very keen and so I waited quite a while
Perhaps she didn’t like the fact I had a missing tooth
I’d heard another one would grow and hoped that was the truth
I hoped to tell Jemima of the money that I’d found…
“Hid my tooth under my pillow and it turned into a pound.”
Jemima, as my girlfriend wasn’t stretching much belief
I didn’t have much money, but I had a lot teeth
Losing one seemed scary, but the outcome could be great
Because, you see, the tooth fairy was paying for our date
But then I felt a flutter as Jemima said “Hello.”
She covered up her mouth and said, “There’s something you should know,
I’ve also lost a tooth and now I’m ugly as a witch.”
I said, “And I’m a warlock but, with all these teeth, we’re rich.”
Spelling, syllable count, vanity, too simple, Simon! Be prolific, cruel, smart, up to par, above the bar, fit for the stage. Tap, tap, tap…
—by poet
The Prismatic Self
See the wooden stage, markers for my feet, bright lights, great expectations, critical analysis. Curtains will open any minute as my words make an entrance. Will my opening lyrics draw a crowd? Who will be in attendance? The theater’s not likely sold out.
Backstage, the sponsors, who are they? ATTENTION! As if a teacher wields a pointer, tapping at my feet. Will the audience throw erasers?
On the palm of my hand, the rules - perhaps strict, but I’m not in fear of a stickler. Trained by the nuns in love and hate knuckles.*
Lots of rules, I might have to practice the act for quite a bit longer. I practice in my dressing room, trying on outfit after outfit - those flouncy forms or something simple and succinct.
Am I a people pleaser? Do I perform at the pleasure of the King or Queen? Or am I my own worst critic?
Yes! Yes! Yes! No!
I desire to be seen but I will yield. There is something more important than being the lead. Still, I must confess, I must run back to my little box, mime my tears, dread my limitations, take a breath and when I am ready - take a bow.
At the onset, I must build my own backdrop, backstory, be vague and understood. I run my lines quickly, slowly, go over them again and again, even as I recite them freely, as a monoku or Shakespearian sonnet; or get even more elaborate.
I labor over each word, its placement, its meaning. I don’t care! I do care! I must feel it practically perfect; though I will let it go. Eventually, it will be a comedy of errors, erroneously erupting past the stage, in the rubber hands of cause and effect. The sponsor’s Marlboro ashes fall on it, without understanding my heartfelt meaning; my wings clipped as I await the list…the dreaded and dreadful list. Most surprised when I am the cream, alone - floating at the top.
**Fastbreast, blushing, aghast, euphoric. That sponsor is exact. I do not grow prideful. I do glow. The tip of the iceberg shows, all other words sunken, below. In leotards, the ships pass by, having a look - one clips itself.
*conceit
**Fastbreast - heart beating rapidly (Neologism)
You may ask yourself this question…How important is a doll?
You may think in the scheme of life…not too important after all…
But I would beg to differ…because somehow my little girl found a way
of all the dolls upon the shelf…she picked me that day.
She chose me over all the others…it took her quite a while
I like to think there was something in my eyes…or the crookedness of my smile.
From that moment we were inseparable
Inside…outside…in any kind of weather
We played…we ran…we laughed…we drank tea
We went everywhere together.
I loved the times when she was happy…when her smile was innocent and bright
When she would toss me in the air then hug me with all her might.
I was glad to be there when she was sad…or to help her face her fears
Those times she used my only dress to wipe away her tears.
I remember the day she left me in a restaurant…
I was frightened and lonely without her arms around me
and I remember how relieved I was
when she came back and found me.
This went on for years and years…all I needed was an occasional sew-up
But although dolls remain the same…little girls all grow up.
She didn’t need me like she used to…she spent more time off by herself
and I went from sleeping next to her…to a spot upon her shelf.
Where I now sit and watch her…remembering our laughter…and our fun
and the moment I resign myself to thinking my usefulness is done…
The instant I start thinking I’m just another doll filled with stuff
she gives me a little hug or says I love you
and I think…that is enough
Enough of a reason…enough proof…enough of a diagram
to remind me how important I was…and how important I still am.
The Visitation
Said Gorbelung to Gorbeling,
Flying in their spaceship thing,
"Over there is planet Earth,
I wonder what it's really worth."
So travelling at the speed of light,
Which gave their spacedog quite a fright,
And leaving Saturn in the rear,
They came upon the pale blue sphere.
Said Gorbeling to Gorbelung,
When transposed to Earthly tongue,
“Down there is a little man,
Let's communicate if we can.”
Then sliding back a tiny panel
And opening a communication channel,
They beamed a light and hissing sound,
From the spaceship to the ground.
To Arthur on his hands and knees
In his garden planting peas.
Space dog Io gave a yelp,
Thinking perhaps this might help.
Seeing the light from heaven to ground
And startled by the sudden sound
Arthur ran to tell his wife,
“An Alien spoke to me upon my life.”
“What did it say?” his wife remarked,
“It shone a light and then it barked.”
Arthur's wife, who was making soup
Ran to find young Doctor Croup
Who, declaring Arthur quite insane,
Gave him pills that dulled his Brain.
But Gorbelung and Gorbeling,
Flying in their spaceship thing.
Left the Earth for other spheres,
On Journeys taking many years
And on a chart pinned to their door
Wrote: 'EARTH COMMUNICATION POOR'.
Barry Stebbings
17/08/16
In this modern age of computers
so much is done by aid of the mouse
whether by excel, word or browsing the web
it all can be done from inside your house
By the flick or touch of the finger
in a moment it goes to its destination
such dramatic change brought to our lifes
when you think about it quite a sensation
But for all of this there’s a snag
mistakes are made that throws us all out
but nobody will take the blame
just blame the PC casting out all doubt
But the PC only does what it’s told
so really it is not the one to blame
it’s us who operate all the action
own up we’re the ones that are lame
Be really honest don’t pass the buck
there’s an error within that’s all wrong
for rubbish in, rubbish out that’s so true
get the facts right before striking the gong
As I call my wife and children to say goodbyes.
I tell them do not fear for I am with them always.
I leave the booth to take the most terrifying adventure yet.
As I enter the plan I see men All of them allies.
The plane shakes and jumps as it takes off it was all quite a haze.
We are now over them the bombardment has begun such a quartet.
The air itself feels like it will tear at any second.
Then... we jump 1, 2, 3 and then me something hit me a deep graze.
I hit the ground softly, un-clip and begin to run I must not fret.
I meet up with my company but were pinned within a millisecond.
This is what my grandfather told me before he died in that minute.
The work day over, the clock finally reads five.
I hurry home, driving fast, I finally feel alive;
I can be a mom again, there in my safe haven.
Its nice to be home - hope the kids are behaven.
No more accounts to balance no reconciliation.
I'm looking forward to well deserved relaxation.
I get quite a shock as I walk in the door.
It looks like the aftermath of world war four.
I pick up toys and what's left of an after school snack.
Maybe I should hop in the car and go straight back?
OOPS talking of the car, I forgot to stop at the shop.
Looking in the fridge, two eggs and one pork chop.
The kids help get the place tidy, they do all they can.
All ready for bed, the door bell rings, its the Pizza man.
The house is quiet, kids and I, happily watch a show.
I am blessed to have my safe haven, I'd like you to know.
whilst listening to some songs
i came across this line
you gave me head
on an unmade bed
the phrase lingers
one can see that scene
whilst at tafe, a fellow student
asked, quite out of the blue
do you come
when you are being sucked off?
walking out of a late lecture one evening
this girl, who was keen on me, made a joke
what do banks and 'crumpets' have in common?
it is easy to deposit but hard to withdraw
she was not subtle in her approach
i did not want her
i said excuse me, i need to take a leak
and entered the men's toilet
i waited quite a while in there
hoping she'd be gone
and she was
but waited at my car
she stood there in her short skirt
legs ever so slightly apart
leaning back on the fender she said
can't you just give me one?
yeah sure. How many words
do you want in that essay?