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Best Poems Written by Mark Poynter

Below are the all-time best Mark Poynter poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Blueberry Hill

I can still remember
back when I was a kid
I had a friend called Millie
and we were made for each other
just like peanut butter and jelly
on a piece of crusty bread

on a Sunday afternoon
I'd go round to Millie's house
and we'd sit in the kitchen and talk
Millie's mom had an old record-player
that sat in a box on top of the fridge
and we'd listen to scratchy old records
of Chuck Berry and Little Richard

but I liked Fats Domino best
yea...he was definitely my favourite
we would sit there sharing a Pesi cola
listening to a song called "Blueberry Hill"
talking tough as if we were grown-ups
and smoking a cheap cigarette

during one hot summer
we'd catch the Short Line bus
and ride it all the way up town
across the old steel mill bridge
through the business district
right around memorial park
and out towards a place
called Stately Hills

when we finally got there
we'd look at the beautiful houses
and Millie would turn to me and say
"wow! I wish me and you could live here"
and I'd say "yea! That would be really great"
then Millie would pick us out a house
it was usually a large two storey affair
five bedrooms huge double garage
and a mail box at the gate

we'd walk around together
trying not to look out of place
but it wouldn't take very long
before someone would notice us
and they'd say something like
"Hey! are you two lost?"

so by the late afternoon
we'd walk back to the bus stop
and catch the very last service home
Millie and I would sit at the back
looking through the rear window
watching all those big houses
slowly fade into the distance
and disappear from view

"don't worry Millie", I'd say
"we can come back another time"
but as things turned out we never did
Millie's step-father had started to drink
so her mother packed up and left him
taking Millie to live with her aunt

I never saw Millie after that
but I always stopped to think of her
each and every time I rode that bus
and whenever I hear "Blueberry Hill"
I can almost taste that Pepsi cola
mixed with the odious smell
of a cheap cigarette

*penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Hot Bubble Gum

she was a strawberry blonde
with a peppermint smile
all peaches and cream
and maybe
just a bit of the devil inside

me
I was just a joung gun
with braces on my teeth
browsing a comic bookstore
looking for a Batman #19
when she walked in

anyone could she was trouble
like a burning petrol tanker
crashing into a factory of nitroglycerine
wearing a Gucci black dress
fire engine red lipstick
matching shoes and a belt
she looked like a woman 
who was about to go forth
and sin and sin and sin...

she looked at me
smouldering with desire
reached into her bag
and pulled out a piece of gum
seductively removing the wrapper
she placed it between her lips like a cigarette
then sucked it back with her tongue

something exploded
inside my head
I could feel the air ignite
burn the tips of my fingers
and nearly set my hair alight
my life flashed before my eyes
3 seconds of missed opportunity
failed goals, schizophrenic paranoia
and sexual anxiety
not to mention the time
I saw the next door neighbor's wife
laying in the backyard
sun-tanning indecently

then there was darkness
and I was alone
nothing mattered anymore
a warm soothing peace consoled me
tranquil calm surrounded and assured me
gradually I could see a tunnel of light
it shone with brlliance
a celestial warmth of divine purity
drawn to its heavenly pressence
I floated towards it

then suddenly WHAM
I was laying on my back in the comic bookstore
with a taste of peppermint inside my mouth
I sat there and looked around
the girl was gone
just a bubble gum wrapper lay at my feet
and in my left hand
was a copy of a Batman #19

*penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Out of Gas

I had decided to go through with it
and this time it was serious
not just another
melodramatic episode
brought on by events
that were beyond
my control

this was the real thing
a calm calculated decision

I had taken care of outstanding debts
paid up bills, ran errands
mowed the lawn
and fixed a leaking tap

words are subject to interpretation
and could never adequately express
what I really wanted to say
so I didn't leave a note

I locked myself in the garage
stuck a length of hose up the exhaust
got in and closed the door

I sat there chocking on fumes
when suddenly the car conked out
looking at the instrumentation panel
I couldn't believe my eyes
out of all the stupid mistakes I'd made
this was surely the best
sitting there like a complete idiot
holding onto the steering wheel
would you believe
I'd ran out of gas

* penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Young & Stupid

back when I was
young and stupid
I really wanted to be
a big famous rock star
just like Jim Morrison
or Jimi Hendricks

I would give anything
just for the chance to have
long hair and wear tight jeans
play Madison Square Gardens
and have hordes of pretty girls
throwing underwear at me

but now that I’m old and pathetic
I just can’t see myself with long hair
dressed in jeans and a leather jacket
holding onto an electric guitar and
threatening to throw a TV set
out of a hotel window

somehow the years
have caught up with me
and the sound of rock music
no longer drives me to madness
I’m terrified to even look at myself
for fear of seeing my parents

but as long as I’m alive
then there’s still a chance
to act crazy and get naked
just because I’m growing old
doesn’t mean I have to stop
being young and stupid 

*Penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Voodoo Economics

I turn on the TV
lay my head back
and watch an economist
presenting a business report
he sounds more like a wizard
casting a spell with magical names
like Hang Seng, NIKKEI
Dow and NASDAQ

in a mad induced trance
investors gamble their savings
chasing after an illusive dream
of rags to riches, riches to power
then abracadabra like voodoo magic
one company merges with another
forming a faceless conglomerate
with a strange Orwellian name

in a surrealist nightmare
of unrestrained power and greed
the wizards of alchemy work their magic
but quicksilver remedies and snake oil
cannot stop the suffering of millions
who are doomed to live in a world
ruled by the lingering forces
of voodoo economics

* Penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Have a Nice Day

cursing and swearing
with a mouthful of burnt toast
I put my foot to the floor
but it's no use
it's raining
both headlights are brocken
an indicators missing
and the wipers don't work

"START DAMN IT, START", I scream
turning the key
dressed in my cleanest dirty shirt
ketchup on the sleeve
old faded green tie
and a freshly wrinkled pair of pants

I see Mr Rogers sitting on the front porch
all the buttons on his shirt are missing
exposing his fat belly and ripped shorts
he smokes a cigarette
and yells at the kids
who run about the yard screaming

I keep turning the key
but it's no use I'm late for work
I've spent five years working for the company
long hours, migraine headaches, stomach ulcers
no shift allowance or medical coverage
and now this
short-term contracts and a cut in pay

suddenly the engine starts
I back onto the street
and slowly drive away
Mr Rogers stands up scratches his crotch
then gives me the finger and yells
"Have a Nice Day"

*penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Cool

when i was younger
i wanted to be cool

so i grew my hair long
wore tight jeans
and said things
like fab, hip and groovy

i had the walk
the look
the attitude
and everyone knew
i was a cool cat
y-e-a
a real happening dude

only the mojo wasn't working
so i never got my kicks
i crashed and burned without flying
and the legend died before it ever lived

even the chicks
didn't fall for it
they didn't dig me at all
nobody would respect the fact
that i was hip, popular, cool

exploding like a supernova
it was never meant to be
the gods above made their ruling
and the phoenix never rose again

well looking back now
i can see
i was just a goofy kid
with a goofy hair cut
dressed in goofy clothes

but hay!
at least i was cool

*penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Cut and Bleeding

walking through
the lower end of town
i meet a couple of guys
who ask me for small change

so I tell them some lie
about being down on my luck
somehow it all sounds true
even though it’s a load of crap

i carry on walking
up through the back streets
across cracked pavements
covered with litter
staring at angry faces
who have been here forever

i walk around the corner
and sitting right in front of me
is an old man who has fallen down
he looks confused
sitting in a puddle of urine
wiping his head with a hand
that’s cut and bleeding

so i walk on by
and ignore what I’ve seen
after all who could believe
that an old man could fall down
and no one there
would help him

Penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Trash

the black bags
sit on the pavement
waiting to be collected

the discarded contents
concealed within
withheld from view protected

the used the abused
consumed products
bought enjoyed spent

red lights late night
the tricks the pimps the trade
everyone pays the rent

work it, buy it, spend it, trash it

the black bags
sit on the pavement
waiting to be collected

Penned by
Scarecrow Joe

Details | Mark Poynter Poem

Yesterdays News

there was an accident
just down the road from where I lived
a kid on a motorbike
crashed into a parked car
and died later on that night

the next day
I read about it in the paper
a full color photograph
depicting a crowd of people
starring at the mangled remains
of twisted metal and debris
strewn across the street

then underneath
some awful reporter
had written an article
purley out of self-interest
it was repetitive
insentive
boring crap
badly wriiten
and even the headline
"KILLER CRASH"
had nothing to do
with the victim

the next day
there was a story about a family
who had been raising money
for a local charity
there was no reason
why their story shouldn't
have been there
but somehow
after yesterday's news
it just din't seem
appropriate

*penned by
Scarecrow Joe