Matinee Poems - Poems about Matinee

Today I think of your Contributions closing the theater’s door Putting together toasted bread Ready for a child to be fed Youngster wearing grape jelly Face down to the belly Laughing saying ‘this is great’ Not showing any hate But Peanut Butter, it is you Who makes the mid-day matinee ever so cool Thank you for...

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Oh boy I am so coy I once thought Skating perilously round and round an icerink floor trying ever so hard not to fall Just incase i make other people laugh and have a joke at my expense Been there done that a million times before no need to back there again of that I'm sure So what's the point what...

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As we go to sleep we know not whats in store. slipping into a sweet slumbering abyss. Down in the rabbit hole- dreams form from thin air. playing with the soul or rattled to the core, rarely known it's not actually real. Made of precious beauty or nightmarish gore. Spirit world has its macabre puppet...

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Tonight shines bright, moonlight beam Wildlife shadows move between Hunters and hunted hide in silence Manoeuvre their skill, their instinct as guidance A squawk, a squeal, a wildlife kill A tum now full, a fresh night meal Rustle of leaves, a silent wait Wind echos the sound of a creaking gate The hoot of an owl, screech of a fox Insects living in a...

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Daydream Matinee David J Walker What were these visions planted Within my head In my bed So young a sleep But not so deep as unconscious exclusion Was it only the illusion of a 7-year-olds Imagination The silent hands of messengers drawing Motion pictographs on the walls of my ...

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Children's Matinee. For us kids off the common streets Every weekend we had a special treat Held at the old community centre On Monksbridge Was the children's matinee Just a stones throw away Where we enjoyed the films Projected upon the screen Armed with bottles of pop And spice to scoff Bought from the local shops We’d sit there eyes as big as dinner plates With our...

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BEYOND THE MILK OF HERA PAST THE HEAVEN'S VERTEBRAE THE STARS BLINK GLEAMING SAGAS, IN THE DAWN THEY FADE AWAY MY SHIP MAKES AN INCISION IN EVERY THING THEY SAY THE SEA WEARS LIKE A SILKY DRESS THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT AND NEVER DOES THE MOON APPEAR SO BEAUTIFUL IN WHITE MY SAILS, IMPATIENT WITH THE WIND, REFLECT CELESTIAL...

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Tuck into the public private seclusion. My aversion to inclusion includes a stub, a tub, a carelessly careful curation, a velvet rope, a hint of hope, a folding chair, softened and stickied by foam and frothing soda spills. A not soundless though talkless time. My not soundless though talkless time. My time oh my oh mine. A excusal from excess tides: the comings-and-goings of...

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Sitting by the bay during a weekday watching the water I thought a manatee I observed Just beneath the surface, it came up for just a few seconds and didn’t reemerge. I followed it with my eyes, seeing its imprint on the surface in the slightly smoother wrinkles in the water where the manatee’s body drifted...

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The women far outnumber All the ticket-holding men And they’re decked out in their jewels They haven’t worn since who-knows-when. Their outfits are forgiving, Hiding several extra pounds And their make-up makes them glow, Although some wrinkling abounds. They’re delighted just to be there On an outing with some friends, All who rush out to the bathroom Just as soon as Act I ends. Most obey and...

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Tame the treacherous TRESSES. BEFORE battling BRAVE BEAST IN IRONIC INTENSE IMPRESSIVE DANGEROUS DUNGEONFUL DREAMS. MONUMENTAL MORNING MESS MUSES BREAKFAST BREAKS BLUENESS TIME TO TEST THE TERRITORY SINCE SATURDAY SEEMS SO SLOW TURN ON THE TV TO TRACK THE TREASURE TROVE MOSTLY MUSING MOTHER OF MOMENTOUS MYSTIFYING MATINEES NEXT, NUDGE THE NUTS AND HELP HARRINGTON HUNT...

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What drapes these aqua wavelets’ sultry trail Along curled bends, creamy foams lift and rise? Where toes and gulls splash fountains like a sail, Paddling on rock ledges with gargled sighs Dewdrops gloss salty brine through chromed rays To warm the heart dancing with crystal flights, As grains of ivory sand hurl tangy sprays A dream-like scene taken from...

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contrary to popular belief, no one shows up for the matinee--- yes, it is true that when you are born, someone was probably there cooing over your little blood-covered & wrinkled face, alongside your mother, and yes, when you are dead, there may be someone who shows up at your funeral or perhaps, at least throws your ashes in a coffee can like walter & the dude...

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I don’t like modern films Over hyped, over killed They so often disappoint The audiences once thrilled I find now as I get older The most joy that I can muster Is from watching an old favourite Than a modern blockbuster...

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Raping old friends Far too easy And I suffer the Consequences. Without connections And only visiting their happiness on the outside. I am undeserved of renewal I say, and out-casted like a good perpetrator should be. Scowling is my brow wanting a happy reunion show....

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